

What are you imagining my “case” is? I stated a fact.
What are you imagining my “case” is? I stated a fact.
For me, there is kind of default neutral sounding voice for comments, but as soon as I get some kind of clue as to the speaker, either from language or punctuation patterns or if they say something about who they are- age, gender, nationality, etc., then the voice gets some more distinctive sound to it.
For instance, @[email protected], who is the main poster in several communities I subscribe to, has a picture of Leela from Futurama as her profile pic, and she has mentioned that she’s a she. So obviously when I read a comment or a title she wrote, it’s in Leela’s voice.
Your comment seems energetic and friendly, so the voice is genderless and with a neutral (to me) accent, but with an energetic, friendly tone and cadence.
If I’ve been listening to an audio book, or a tv series my inner monologue can take on the voice of the narrator or main character. I’m always afraid I’m going actually speak out loud like them, but it’s never happened.
I just did a batch of lactofermented cherry tomatoes, and the one out of four jars that didn’t get moldy just tastes a bit salty, not really fermented. Not sure what I did wrong.
Yeah, I love sweet gherkins, and when there is an unlabeled dish of cornichons I get very upset at the surprise sour/bitter/black pepper flavors. Give me that DelMonte high fructose corn syrup sweet pickle!
You don’t opt in to the IDF, it’s required of all 18 year old Israelis. No one is required to join ICE.
Most places where I am in California have outdoor seating options, but it’s more common to have it behind the restaurant in a little courtyard than in front right next to the street.
Streisand effect. I’ve never heard of Bob Vylan before, am now a fan.
Take some cyclamen, it will clear it right up.
Top right reminds me of a hat I got as part of a happy meal in the ‘80s. I wore it for like, a decade.
Do the hats have breakaway neck ties? This makes me nervous.
When I had a kitty that slept on me, if I wanted to turn over, I would put my arms under the blanket and lift her up in a sort of makeshift cat-hammock and turn my body underneath, then set her back down. She didn’t mind it. But if I moved in a way that she wasn’t sure was intentional, she would firmly tap the body part in question with her paw, three times. I miss that girl so much.
One hundred thousand nights is 274 years.
Me, but with houseplants, gardening tools and recently… a set of bagpipes. 😞
Do you mean like a fecal transplant? I don’t think it would work well.