https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Core_rope_memory

Some back of the napkin math says that would take about 70833 ft^3 to store the Win 11 installer. Thats a cube that is about 41ft long on each side. It’s approximately 18.5 semi truck trailers of memory.

I guess they should have cut the processor, or RAM, or the graphics instead?

Same goes for people.

Who touched my gun!

If you can bear to get a lot closer, these little nuggets are actually pretty cute. They have stripes that can be nice blues, yellows and greens. They are excellent hunters, and their main prey are pests that are actually a cause for concern.

My partner and I call them “basement friends”.

The irony of “love is love” right above the “you better not fucking sit here” spikes.

Breton Illusion Mage > Stealth Archer

They can’t see you, the same way you can’t see a 2D object.

I’m straight, figure I’ll pump out a few kids and raise them gay before flipping so I can maximize my ratio.

Shoot, my mom told me Labor day was a second mother’s day, to thank her for pushing my 9.5lb body out of her poor vagina.

Hot air rises.

For the first few hours. Stale woodsmoke in your hair smell awful.

I’m pretty sure this guy does want a woman who can think for herself. Otherwise he’s gonna have to tell her how and when to clean the house, plan and cook meals, take care of their kids, and manage the household…etc. He’s gunning for the Monkey’s Paw version of a tradwife.

A game where to play as a squirrel trying to cache food, and the whole time you have to avoid cars, hawks, and cats. Collect food, bury it, hide from rival who try to dig up your food and bury it elsewhere.

Pfff. I had a Compaq laptop with a “blazing fast 12mbps” Express WiFi card. Everything hurts.

Now remind me I’m supposed to schedule a prostate exam.

Sure, but you’ll need something to turn the gears.

Typically, we use a crank that converts a reciprocating motion into a rotation. Then we move a piston up and down by putting a little explosion at one end. Connect it to a tank of explosive fuel and badaboom, perpetual motion, as long as you have explosive fuel in the tank of course.

Neat. In this case I was referring to the notorious bad automatic transmission in the Ford Focus.

I like how they keep me dry in the rain, warm in the cold, and protected from knock-off military murder wagons being driven by underinsured middle school drop outs with a cellphone in one hand and a tiny dick in the other.

Manual? Or are you on your …(does math)… 15th transmission?