Hi everyone! I've moved over here from mastodon.art, since my enthusiasm far outstripped any sort of actual talent I had, haha.
I live in Western Sydney with my lovely wife Kristina and our half dachshund/half Maltese dog Beanie, and am a hobbyist coder and photographer, Apple enthusiast, and general all-round geek.
So if you've been following me for awhile, you've seen me mention Fipamo from time to time as one of the projects I've focused on.
Fipamo at it's core is a blog platform that started as I promise to myself to get writing again but only with software that I built so I can add features that I need and to share it with other folks that want something easy to use and have full control of their data.
It took a bit but it's finally in beta.
Wooo Rebel Galaxy Outlaw is now available on Xbox! https://www.microsoft.com/en-au/p/rebel-galaxy-outlaw/9nm6jn1xrc7s
(I presume it's available on other consoles too, but I only care about the Xbox).
And now for something completely different, I'm racing a goddamn truck in the rain.
i gotta say, being a teen in the 2000s wasn't /great/, but thank god i am not a teen today
i really dislike spotify, and most of the reasons are clearly just grouchy personal preferences of mine. but i can't shake the feeling that it is also actually objectively bad. i think paying artists effectively nothing, destroying the concept of "i have a copy of this record" and encouraging everything to turn into an endless soup of background playlists has done more to devalue individual pieces of music as culturally important, meaningful artifacts than piracy ever did
And done! Total race time, an hour and eighteen minutes.
I find these kinds of anecdotes terrifying because there doesn’t seem to be any cohort (age, class, education) immune to cults and cultic beliefs https://www.buzzfeednews.com/amphtml/janelytvynenko/qanon-families-friends?__twitter_impression=true
Breadposting, but also dogposting
Beanie knows the exact sound of bread being cut, and no matter when in the house he is, he'll come in to the kitchen like a shot, waiting for either crumbs to be dropped or me to give him a scrappy end piece.