Dont Try This At Home - Tumblr Posts
PSA:
Don't put a snickers bar in the freezer and attempt to eat it. My teeth and jaw hurt now. Ow
bad git tip #1
Ever feel like you want to try out a new git trick, but you're afraid it might cause some problems or break your repo somehow? Wouldn't it be great if you could track the history of your git state and revert if something went wrong?
Well, now you can, with a little trick I call git-git!
Just go into a directory with a git repository, cd into the .git folder, and run git init. Then, cd back out, and create a post-commit hook in the toplevel repository that creates a commit in git-git repository every time you commit in the toplevel repository! Now your git history is being track by git, and you have all the powerful tools that git gives you at your disposal. Never worry about doing fucked up shit in git again!
I put glitter on my black backpack and it looks SO CUTE??? it should become a trend tbh
Damian, taping a knife to a roomba and setting it loose: Be free my child.
Jason, entering the room with cuts on his ankles: WHO THE FUCK—
When I walk in the kitchen
My heart hits the floor
'Cause' it's you that I'm missing
I still see a vision of us cooking dinner
And you holding me from behind (from behind)
And you say, "Please be careful
The knife is so big
And we can't have another ER trip
We're too young, too dumb, too in love to afford it" (to afford it)
Now it's just me
And a hundred square feet of bittersweet memories
Deleted the playlist
But I still hear all your favorite melodies
Strangers, to lovers, to enemies
So I'll dance with your ghost in the living room
And I'll play the piano alone
But I'm too scared to delete all our videos
'Cause it's real once everyone knows
Could've at least shown me some decency
Done me a favor and packed up your clothes
Falling in love, no, it ain't for the weak
So don't try this at home
The couch that we sat on back in New York
Has made its way three thousand miles to L.A
These pillows been talking
Asking me where the hell you've been (where the hell you've been)
Told me you loved me two weeks in
And I knew I would fall for you over and over
But who would've known that the falling would come to an end (come to an end)
But now it's just me
And a hundred square feet of bittersweet memories
Deleted the playlist
But I still hear all your favorite melodies
Strangers, to lovers, to enemies
So I'll dance with your ghost in the living room
And I'll play the piano alone
But I'm too scared to delete all our videos
'Cause it's real once everyone knows
You could've at least shown me some decency
Done me a favor and packed up your clothes
Falling in love, no, it ain't for the weak
So don't try this at home
So don't try this at home
(Ooh, ooh, ooh)
Ain't it funny how time shows you
You know nothing
'Cause I used to love you
But now you're dead to me
Strangers, to lovers, to enemies
I am "smol", as the kids these days say. I think. Short, scrawny, underweight, harmless looking. But also really flexible and agile and pretty darn good balance. So being height challenged I too often find myself straining to reach just another inch or two to secure some clamp or loosen some bolt or clip in a safety - and No, Anrita, I can't "just make the lift go higher" because there's gods damned structural steel in the way.
Net result is I'm constantly just jumping up on the kickplate of the bucket, or standing on the apex of an A-Frame, or any number of things that are giving other people heart attacks, and I'm like; "If I feel unsafe, I don't do it. But safety laws are also for the lowest common denominator. 50 year old, overweight white men with bad backs and knees." Just because Gary can't even imagine balancing on one foot with another hooked over a pipe and an elbow braced to the wall, doesn't mean I can't zip up like a squirrel and get it done.
And yah, there're been a few "I've wildly misjudged this" moments.
I may have been in a Genie lift working by myself once, and when asked "why is this taking so long" I pointed out I needed to come in, climb out, move the lift, go back up, repeat. Every five feet. They jokingly teased about an old worker there who would just grab the (wall anchored) pipes, brace his gut on the railing, and pull the lift around, while elevated. And then left.
About ten minutes later, already frustrated at the tediousness of it all, I thought to myself; "Hell. If Ronnie could do it..." So I gripped the pipe, braced, and tugged. The bucket shifted forward smoothly. I'm about 18 feet up, and expected more wobble or resistance, but it was really quiet easy. Surprised, and pleased, I pulled forward a couple more feet then went to let go of the pipe.
And that's when I felt the bucket sway.
Disclaimer: The outriggers may have not been in because FFS it was already taking too long. Always operate elevation devices with all required safety features in place.
So my hands, instead of relaxing, death gripped the pipe as I realized what was happening below me. I wasn't pulling the base of the lift along as I'd believed. I was pulling the bucket, and tipping the lift over. I ccaaareeefully retraced my path until I heard the "thunk" of the rear wheels hitting the floor again, descended, got out of the bucket, and spent about five minutes in a chair contemplating poor life choices.
TL:DR = Use your outriggers. But also acknowledge some people are just comfortable in possibly risky situations.
some of you never watched your life flash before your eyes while standing one rung higher than recommended on a ladder to hang lights and it shows
On the topic of precarious ladders:
So writing about working at heights hijinks and life-panicing moments got me thinking about an old member of my first local. This guy had been installing wiring for the Big Bang, I garuntee. We were talking one day about ladder adventures. Both being short, small, and overconfident, we had plenty of moments to swap, but his took the cake.
He was on a North American tour of an Opera, back in his day, and they were down in the States, I want to say California but I can't recall precisely.
So this venue they're at, they're doing the load in, and it has this odd grating installed over the last few feet of the stage that allows the actors to walk right above the orchestra, a sort of grid covered pit.
The touring rig has a lighting pipe that needs to be hung right out over the stage edge, so motor lines are dropped in, everything is built and hooked up, and up it goes. But then, the local crew explains to Ronnie, because of the unique floor covering the pit, it wasn't load bearing enough for a scissor lift to be run across it. "But how do we focus those lights?" Ronnie asked, confused.
So that's when the house crew went out into the house, up to the back of the third balcony, and pulled out three segments of an extension ladder, 20 feet each. A quick chat determined that the apron pipe was about 40 feet above the deck, so two chunks of the ladder were passed over the edge of the third balcony to the second; over the second to the main floor, carried out to the edge of the stage, and linked together.
"Now what," Ronnie asks, probably well caught on, but just making sure. The local guys grin, and walk the ladder upright. Then four of them get around the base. "Up you go."
40 feet, straight vertical, no safety, nowhere to anchor to, no wall around, held in place by four crew hugging the bottom.
Up zips Ronnie, straddling the top rung and hooking his feet into lower bars, pulls out his wrench, and gets the first light focused.
"Okay, now, hang on," the guys at the base holler, and proceed to waddle-walk the base of the ladder to get Ronnie to the next fixture.
One foot, pivot-twist - rock onto other foot, pivot twist. Stop, work, repeat.
The whole width of the apron.
I can still see the grin on Ronnie's face retelling it, I bet he was having the time of his life.
And then, the story goes, he was so comfortable up there, and the ground team so competent, they got the pipe done in record time, but halfway along, tragedy struck upstage.
If you've never heard a motor bag dump a full length of chain after everything has been flown out, well, consider yourselves lucky. A collective groan went up from the carpentry team as a bag spilled, the only way to clean it up being bring the set in again.
"Hold up," says Ronnie, "maybe we can help." And his base team waddle-walked his ladder across the stage, where he pulled up the chain and stuffed it back in the bag to the cheers of the other crews below. Lighting was the hero of the show for the rest of the production's stay there.
So... Every now and then, when my leg is cramping because my harness is biting off circulation in my thigh because I'm folded in half trying to adjust some fixture, and my retractable lanyard is trying to choke me to death, or at the very least pull my hair out, and some Technical Director is griping that I "shouldn't be doooiiiing thaaaaat..." Okay fine, then I guess you can't have the effect, because I can't set it up legally; I think back to Ronnie, seated on the top rung of a forty foot ladder, being waddled across a stage, and I wonder if all this safety has dumbed down our skills.
And I wish like hell I could try that.
You though I was gay? More like hoped I was gay....y'all just want to get in my pants
Luna says rolling her eyes and smirking, she takes a sip of her juice while looking up at everyone sitting at the mean girls table through her lashes
(She is wearing a skirt)
i just got some spaghetti with breadsticks, you know what that means!
mmm yummy foil
"BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER!"
Happy birthday, Sherlock Holmes! You don't look a day over 160...
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What a normal weekend... In a public bath..-
Not in front of Inside.
They are just best friends (or they pretend to)