Alvaro @OMGTehAwsome@queer.party

Better rip off the old #introductions band-aid so people don't think I'm a poorly written bot.

I'm Al. I'm an old school bisexual, just because they didn't have the word "pan" back when we were driving our hot rods to the malt shop and getting an egg cream for a dime.

I love indie comic books, comedy and cooking. My TV is always blaring something, since otherwise I get lonely.

I'm as broken as everybody else and my coping strategies are pretty terrible, but I make do.

Hot diggity damn is Hollow Knight good. I haven't felt this urge to finish my chores quickly so I can go explore a game since I was a kid.

I've been trying to find something to combat my own blend of depression and ADD at work, and decided to try using the pomodoro technique with a visual timer. So far I'm digging it!

1) Being able to see the time until my timed break lets me work through my brain's urge to distraction after a block of work.
2) The structured breaks discourage me from consuming fluff (I've be walking away and reading a book.)
3) My long breaks between cycles are guilt-free, like a post-workout ice cream.

That awkward moment when you explain to your junior dev that they could have shaved 3000 lines of code down to 3 by just flipping where they ran it.

I had a bunch of fruit left over from a taste-tripping party we had with one other safe couple. So it wouldn't go to waste I've been tossing them in jars with a bunch of sugar, to make fruit syrups, then using the fruit syrups to bake with. So far I've made one batch of dark chocolate & key lime blondies and peach & white chocolate muffins (which were also meant to be blondies, but oopsie-doopsy...)

lofi funeral dirge radio - beats to mourn/wail to

I found a Power Mode JS port, which means my corporate user syncing application just got way more entertaining for anyone that knows the Konami code.

I'm officially too much of a food snob. A coworker asked where you can go in town for a good quesadilla and the only answer I can think of is, "why the hell would you ever leave your home to get a quesadilla?"

Buddy, I'm not trying to kink-shame you but you could really just save us both time by calling your "tactical EDC hand-carry survival pouch" a "clutch purse."

I placed an order for some miracle berry tablets, thinking it would be a fun things to try when we're stuck indoors. For no reason, out of nowhere, a thought popped into my head: "I wonder what they would make pussy taste like?"

It broke my brain. In the middle of a meeting. A meeting I was running. While I was on camera. I just sat there, unable to speak, for minutes.

So I got this weird phone case on a whim and it worked *so* well with the spare finger grip I had in my drawer.

I may have edited the lyrics of Look Down from Les Misérables to explain why our support system can't handle manual changes that clash with our automated user sync.

There's a good chance this will eventually be the reason why I'm fired as an enterprise engineer.

Trying to explain dependency injection to my junior developers is probably the closest thing I'll ever feel to teaching someone where my clitoris is.

We have Nazis running the White House, melting the earth and shutting down health services...
A pandemic battering society...
The economy crashing as we try and minimize the losses...
And now a fucking asteroid is heading towards earth?

Alright, fine. You win this one, Lord. I'll stop sucking dick if you will just RELAX.

I made my partner a birthday gift, and I'm real dang proud. She's a DM, so I had some teeny-tiny polyhedral dice 3D printed, dyed the 3 sets the pan pride colors*, and stuffed them in a faux-antique glass vial pendant.

*Okay, as close as I could get. Y'all, plastic dying is hard.

Sometimes I feel like my real contributions at work aren't appreciated. I mean which test data would you rather see?

A) Username: "Username",
FirstName: "UserFirst",
LastName: "UserLast"

B: Username: "JBeez",
FirstName: "Jonathan",
LastName: "A Literal Cloud Of Bees"

How many times do you throw a lone sock back into the laundry before giving up on it finding its mate?

Well guess who's got eight thumbs and just got a month of workers' comp from the cloning facility

I decided to try my hand at making a childhood dish for our work potluck. I didn't have a recipe, just a vague description.

It took 4 hours to make. I love freestyling in the kitchen, but this was like a four hour long jazz solo where I couldn't check if I'd hit "record" until it was over. It was a close call once I had to improvise a bechamel.