Max: ???? he does something ????
Furiosa: She’ll kick your ass. She’ll kick anyone’s ass. She’ll kick his ass. She’ll kick your dog’s ass.
Nux: Perfect cinnamon roll too beautiful for this world, too pure
Capable: Lots of people ship her with Nux. Apparently Nux isn’t as bad as the other War Boys?
The Dag: Kickass lady who has premonitions or something?
The other ladies whose names I don’t know: Aren’t sexual objects, the entire movie’s against that, they all kick ASS. But not as much as Furiosa.
The breathie thingie guy: Evil. Eeeeeviiil.
Doof guitar guy: HOLY SH** ON A BISCUIT THE GUITAR IS REAL. THE DOOF WAGON IS REAL???? HE’S ACTUALLY???PLAYING A FLAME THROWER GUITAR???? ??????THAT’S AWESOME
The War Boys: Everything is chrome in the future.
The setting: Wasteland. Bright af wasteland where for some reason the only way to get around is by forming a deadly cirque du soleil bike gang in the middle of the goddamn desert. At least according to the War Boys.
The plot: Max and Furiosa have to kick Breathie Thingie Guy’s butt and free the Kickass Ladies, who are currently kept for the War Boys to doodliedoo. Nux is a precious cinnamon roll. High speed car chases ensue, Furiosa kicks ass, War Boys spray chrome into their mouths (Valhalla or some crud like that yadda yadda “I live I die I live again”), tons of ass gets kicked, the car chases get more and more intense and all of the fricking cars are real. All of the fricking…the fricking metronome things? Real. The fricking FLAME THROWER BUNGIE CORD GUITAR ON A MOVING MUSIC VEHICLE. REAL. THEY ARE LITERALLY PLAYING THEIR OWN THEME MUSIC AS THEY DRIVE ALONG. THIS KICKS ASS.
having a flesh vessel is so annoying?????? like they have to be constantly watered, they have to be in specific temperature range to be comfortable, i’ve had a headache for like seven hours and nothing i do will get rid of it,
physical forms are so inconvenient??????????????
I knocked mine over yesterday and scraped off some of the outer barrier and it keeps sending me really annoying warning messages about it
blood.dll has caused an access violation exception
I still can’t figure off how to turn off the monthly compile time. It goes for like 7 days wrecks all the system and takes so much CPU time.
I got the wrong model, too, and there’s no returns or exchange policy. I’m trying to make do as best I can with aftermarket modifications, but even that’s a real bind. And then I have to deal with all the purists who try to tell me I should be happy with the model I was given.
My model seems to have been made with all third-party pieces and is falling apart at a much faster rate than anticipated. I’d really like to know who I contact about this because I was supposed to get a licensed version.
mine was apparently shipped with defective visual-input parts which went unnoticed at the time, and while aftermarket add-ons are able to approximate normal performance, actual repair or replacement of the defective parts is neither feasible nor cost-effective
also the OS has this big honking flaw where it freezes up a lot and all the memory access to anything but negative shit gets locked out, plus all the code regarding physical interface with external modules appears to be either corrupt or missing
i wish to complain
i don’t know what you guys are even talking about, i got the model that turns into a race car if you fold it right
Steve’s introduction to social media started off as Tony’s idea of a joke. After he’d been out of the ice for a few months, Steve was irritatingly well-adjusted, and Tony couldn’t resist pushing a few buttons. So, one day, Steve got a message on his S.H.I.E.L.D. email (“Email!? You understand email?” “Of course. It’s just like a telegram on a screen.”) with a link to a site called tumblr. The post he’d been directed to is part of a blog apparently run by a history major looking for a place to scream about WWII. Some of the post made reference to books and documentaries that he didn’t know about, though he supposes they must be rather popular since she never goes into great detail. However, from what he was able to parse, the author was insinuating that perhaps he and Bucky had been a bit more than childhood pals. (The exact wording being: “I’ve seen the old reels, and let me tell you; that is not a smile you give your buddy. Barnes and Rogers were the gal pals of the twentieth century, okay?”)
He blushes and makes a mental note to get Stark back later, but…his interest is piqued. This girl has really done her work. It’s actually a little alarming how accurately a total stranger has pegged him, but in the same breath, it’s sort of nice. Even after the serum, nobody seemed all that interested in Steve Rogers. Other than Bucky and Peggy, it was all about Captain America, and after his “death” he became a symbol, warped and tainted by the years until he didn’t resemble himself anymore. But as he scrolled down through more posts, it was clear that whoever was behind this blog knew who Steve Rogers was, or was at least making an effort to figure it out.
Two hours later, he had six tabs open and was buried deep in the Captain America tag, alternating between enraged and delighted as he read through the debates about everything from his political leanings to his mental health. He desperately wanted to respond. Both to set a few records straight and to thank the dedicated historians that looked at the man behind the shield.
“Natasha,” he called across the common room.
“Hmm?” she looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow.
“Can you help me with something?” The look on her face as she strode over was one he’d grown accustomed to since his de-icing. It was the one that said “Be nice to grandpa, he doesn’t know any better.” Clearly, she was expecting to explain how to run a Google search or something equally self-explanatory, but instead, he asked: “How do I reply to this?” and pointed at one of the posts.
“Oh. Um…for starters, open a new tab.” She walked him through the process and a few minutes later, steve-g-rogers was up and running. Natasha helped him post a picture of himself waving hello into the webcam with a little bio beneath it, and explained how to tag it so that people would see.
It exploded overnight, hundreds and then thousands of followers accumulating as bloggers found out that it was the real Captain America debunking their research. He stayed up into the early morning, correcting the most blatantly wrong posts and answering piles of questions, some about how he was getting by in the future and “dude, you know tumblr?” mixed in with some serious ones about what life was really like in the thirties and forties. Finally, he reached out and messaged the blogger that had sparked his interest, confiding she had hit pretty close to the truth, and “Please don’t publish this, I need to gather my wits a bit more before I’m ready to put it out there, but yes. There was more. For me, at least, it was more. And thank you. Not many people seem to remember that I’m a person before I’m a symbol.”
From there, Steve’s internet exploration took off. As he branched out more on tumblr, he found himself taking up art again, posting pictures of cartoons he drew in staff meetings or sketches of the other Avengers. Even a few of Bucky that he did from memory. Eventually, there were so many that he made an instagram account, where he also started posting photos of the New York skyline as seen from Stark Tower. The caption on the first one read: “Ugly building, beautiful view.” Once he feels caught up enough on political issues to weigh in, he sets up a twitter. He completely forgoes the usual “Hello, this is my first tweet” route and opens with: “@GOP: FDR’s New Deal “handouts” saved half my neighborhood. #Captain America is not your conservative puppet.” The media goes nuts.
