I recently bought a D-E200 CD Walkman and bought a pair of (modern) MDR-XB550AP headphones. While testing them out, I noticed nothing wrong on my phone, they're a little bit too bassy for my taste, though this might be because I haven't used headphones for over an year. But when I plugged them in the Walkman, I noticed something very weird. The sounds this thing was making sounded like I was listening to the music with some kind of weak karaoke filter on! (as in reverbed music with very weak/distant vocals) I tested the Walkman out with a pair of cheap headphones and strangely they sounded way better.
###Can someone make sense of this?
Had a commenter grave dig my posts to try and shame me for an incident I mentioned where my entitled mother stole food and tried to argue that parents do what they do out of love and that I have no right to not appreciate everything they do. So let's debunk this new trend and shed light on the food stealing now that I know a few other things with my Dads input as well.
It seems ever since i was little Mom was aggressive with food. Mom has always been a SAHM and would make dinner for both me and my brother and pack us off to bed. We lived in Illinois by that naval academy and were far enough away that Dad would come home after Mom had put us down for the night so I guess I always assumed as children do that parents are godly and fair and that Mom had set aside dinner for Dad.
No, she didn't and she forbade him to cook after he got home or it would wake us. Often my Dad who was a young twenty something could only have a teacup of salsa and a bowl of tortilla strips for dinner. His equally young twenty something wife who smoked a pack a week to stay thin and was at the time a vegan was being horrible and I never knew. His breakfasts consisted of coffee and a few of those rice cake things, lunch was ramen, a coke and a nutter butter. I thought I hit the jackpot as a kid finding the chocolate treat and my dad got mad when I took it once. I didn't understand then but now, I feel like an awful person back then because that was his second highest caloric intake.
Week day dinners were chips and salsa or nothing with weekends meaning he got to eat with us. He got to eat well, because he stuck to my brother and I not to be starved. This is supposedly around the time the Wall fell if my Mom's tales of how horrid Dad was for clattering the kitchens after bedtime are any indication.
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After we moved to California with Dads new duty station his duty station was closer to base housing and could be home for dinner but he maintained the chips and salsa habit. As my brother and I got older, we had the usual appetite of growing kids. Mom tried to limit our intake saying that we shouldn't be going through this or that any faster than some arbitrary time and attempted to implement a rule that would restrict us to a 'fair share' of a snack.
There was a lot of push back as my brothers OCD meant he'd keep horking food unless personally overseen but he'd throw a fit if overseen so i had to get into everything first for my bit. Mom wasn't pleased that her rules lead t
... keep reading on reddit ➡The funeral director was asking us what we think Mum should wear in her casket.
Mum always loved to wear sarongs (fabric wraps that go around the torso and drape downward a bit like a long skirt would), so my uncle suggested that she wear a sarong in there.
The funeral director looked a bit confused, as did some of our family members, to which my uncle added:
"What's sarong with that?"
I started laughing like an idiot. He was proud of it too. The funeral director was rather shocked. We assured her, and our more proper relatives, that Mum would've absolutely loved the joke (which is very true).
His delivery was perfect. I'll never forget the risk he took. We sometimes recall the moment as a way help cushion the blows of the grieving process.
--Edit-- I appreciate the condolences. I'm doing well and the worst is behind me and my family. But thanks :)
--Edit-- Massive thanks for all the awards and kind words. And the puns! Love 'em.
I would have a daughter
“What is it?” Andrew asked. He had noticed me stopping by a small pipe. I reached out and plucked a small piece of red and silver metal that had been perched on a steaming pipe, close to chest height. It was folded into the shape of a deer.
“My father makes these out of coke cans,” I said, holding it in front of my torch. “He gives them to us at Christmas and on birthdays. They’re little things but… they build up over time. I have dozens all lined up. He must have left this for us.”
“So we’re on the right track,” Caz said. “His directions are actually right?”
It had been six days since my father had gone into hiding in the London underground but this was the first time I thought I might actually find him. Quietly, I pocketed the little figurine and tried to kindle the feeling of hope it gave me.
“He must mean a lot to you,” Caz whispered.
“He’s kind,” I replied. “Everyone hears ‘schizophrenia’ and they think ‘psychopath’ but that’s not true at all. He lives in a scary world filled with voices and strange patterns. He’s vulnerable, not dangerous. He must be having a bad episode to come down here.”
“You said he’s done this before though,” Andrew said. “At least that means he knows what he’s doing.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “It’s just he was 43 when he last spent some time down here. He’s 65 now and struggles with stairs.” I held up the bizarre list of directions he’d left me, some of which included ten foot drops onto hard concrete. “How’s he going to manage this?”
“I’ve never heard of a telecoms bunker anywhere in this part of the underground,” William said.
“If he’s where his letter says he is,” Andrew interrupted, flashing his brother a dirty look. “We’ll find him. We know everything down here.”
“Yeah,” William stammered, quickly adapting. “No one knows this city like we do.”
“How deep are we now?” Caz asked after a few minutes of silence had passed.
“Honestly I don’t know but I’m gonna guess about 60m,” William answered.
“There’s a kind of quality to the air past a certain depth,” Andrew added. “You learn to recognise it.”
“I never even knew this was all down here,” she replied.
“My dad was obsessed,” I said. “He used to research all the stuff hidden down here, but this bunker was his favourite of them all. When I found his directions I knew what it was going to say before I even opened it. He’s the smartest man I’ve ever met, funny, passionate, and he’s… he’s just got this spark you know? But he overestimates himself. He thinks he’s invulnera
... keep reading on reddit ➡But Bill kept the Windows
True story; it even happened last night. My 5-year-old son walks up behind me and out of the blue says, "hey."
I turn to him and say, "yeah, kiddo? What's up?"
He responds, "it's dead grass."
I'm really confused and trying to figure out what's wrong and what he wants from me. "What? There's dead grass? What's wrong with that?"
.
.
.
He says, totally straight-faced, "hay is dead grass," and runs off.
You officially hit rock bottom
Now it’s syncing.
I just received my third WM-550C. It sounds all just like it should, but the actual sound is very finicky. It seems that when the door is pressed against the machine with nearly any amount of pressure causes some mechanism inside the Walkman to cut the sound feed. Now in a normal case, upon opening the door or pulling the door away from the machine, it would cause the same effect. I noticed that the one I received had a piece of foam at the top of the inside of the door. None of my other models have this, and I’m beginning to suspect that the previous owner used this as a solution. Of course I assume if that were the case the foam must be starting to break down by now, thus, the problem remains. Any ideas on why it’s doing this and how I can make it stop?
I will find you. You have my Word.
...sails are going through the roof.
Made me smile
Mods said I'm a cereal reposter...
A taxi
But now I stand corrected.
Growing up, I was the odd one out. The weirdo, the one who always stood in the back of the classroom. The quiet one. I had no friends and no one to talk to.
I only had my walkman. Some of you may know that this thing was pretty cool back in the day. You would pop it open, place a CD inside and crank up the volume. Headphones plugged in and over your ears. Man, I loved to blast some rock ‘n’ roll music back in the day. The oldies, the true greats of the genre, the pioneers.
This walkman meant everything to me. It was my refuge, the place where I got lost for hours and hours in a row. It made me feel safe, you know?
The city I lived in was… sad? Depressed? I don’t even know how to describe it anymore. Everyone just went by, minding their own business. The houses all looked the same. Washed up, grey, empty tombs..
People were walking down the streets, ignoring each other as they did so. Their heads hung low, watching the pavement as they went on with their daily routines, to their boring 9 to 5 jobs.
Everyone was alive, but they forgot how to live. A hollow hopelessness was floating in the air every single day. There was nothing to be happy about. Apart from the fact I had no friends, I was also constantly bullied. Sometimes my parents wouldn’t even notice, other times I’d tell them I just tripped and hit my nose or something.
A veil of desperation suddenly fell over my brain and soul. I just wanted to run away to a place where I could find something that had meaning. A person or a thing to hang on to.
I decided that it was the best thing to do. There was nothing left for me here in this dead town.
One day I was walking back home from school with my headphones on. The wind was beating low, there was no traffic. No people, nothing. It looked like it had been deserted. Like everyone and everything flew from this town.
I almost wondered if something happened. That was short-lived, though. I remembered it was always like this. A boring city with boring people.
As I was walking, the song began to experience interruptions. I just tapped the back of my headphones gently with my index finger. I thought that maybe they were close to dying after such a long period of them being used.
A constant static sound started coming in. A metallic noise followed. A buzzing filled my head and the pain was unbearable. Yet I couldn’t take them off. They suddenly felt like they’d been glued to my ears.
“Hello… Hello, can you hear me?” a girl’s voice said.
I grabbed
... keep reading on reddit ➡And then you will all be sorry.
He replied, "Well, stop going to those places then!"
She said how do you know he was headed to work?
“thank you for your cervix.”
Wait. Sorry, wrong sub.
