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PaperclipPerfector  2d ago (text post)   2328 thread views

Small-Scale Question Sunday for August 16, 2026

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What are some irl parallels to the pleasure of a horror game “save room”?

I’ve heard some pretty good things about a hit of heroin.

When I researched this some time ago, a lot of heroin users would describe the high as being tucked into a warm bed after a long day of walking in the rain.

Someone once asked me what falling in love for the first time felt like, and I described it as “what it feels like to use heroin.”

Never having taken any opioid, I was just guessing for rhetorical effect. But if that’s accurate, I wasn’t far off.

To be fair, though, “you’re my addition baby” is the province of love songs and fuck sonnets since the invention of modern pharmaceuticals, so it’s not like I invented it. I notice nobody has yet described their lover as their methamphetamine, although I’m fairly certain the sensation is similar. “I’d rot out my teeth because of my singular obsession with you and lack of dental care” isn’t, you know, exactly a Shakespeare sonnet, though maybe it kinda rhymes with 130.

(Did people before opium came to the west use alcohol as a reference point? “You’re like fine wine” doesn’t really parse as a romantic phrase to me, and the process of alcohol intoxication sounds more like a metaphor for a bad hookup, of which I’m sure the drink has been the cause of many, than it does a burgeoning romance. “It’s fun while it lasts but I’m throwing up in the morning.”)

“You’re like fine wine” doesn’t really parse as a romantic phrase to me, and the process of alcohol intoxication sounds more like a metaphor for a bad hookup, of which I’m sure the drink has been the cause of many, than it does a burgeoning romance. “It’s fun while it lasts but I’m throwing up in the morning.”)

The comedian Sam Morril had a bit where he said that sex in a relationship is like a baked salmon darne, where you feel nourished and satisfied afterwards, having eaten something that was healthy and good for you. Whereas casual sex is like a takeaway kebab or burger, where you are absolutely loving the experience in the moment, but then feel disgusted and ashamed of yourself immediately afterwards.

Whereas casual sex is like a takeaway kebab or burger, where you are absolutely loving the experience in the moment, but then feel disgusted and ashamed of yourself immediately afterwards.

Off-topic: do people actually feel disgusted and ashamed after eating take-out?

I get that people say this so it must somehow be true (even if a meme, it's too popular to just be made up) but of the thousands of burgers I've consumed over my lifetime so far I have yet to identify one I was disgusted with myself for eating.

Is it just that it's a product of an industrial kitchen system, and industrial kitchens are bad because reasons?

Do people really order two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s (one with cheese) and a large soda, then consume it all themselves in one sitting?

Have I missed the mythical past, or never having visited the southernmost US states, never knew a world where fast food meals were more than 1000-1300 calories on the regular?

Or is it something else I can't see?

Are you familiar with the meat and three? These are restaurants. Diners, if you will. They sometimes have burgers, and the burgers will be typically on a buttered and toasted bun, with a bit of mayonnaise that even a person like myself who for years despised mayonnaise can tolerate, some crispy lettuce, ketchup, maybe a firm tomato slice, a medallion of red onion, and of course a burger patty, but with proper ground meat shaped as a patty. Calorically I'm not sure, probably a lot. In my view these are the best burgers to be had anywhere. But even if the place doesn't have burgers it will have hamburger steaks. These are not the filler and spice heavy Salisbury steaks one not from the south might imagine, but, again, big patties of meat well salted and peppered and cooked to a Maillard reaction and served with probably sauteed onions and a brown gravy beside, again probably, a mound of white rice. This or fried chicken, stewed chicken with dumplings, a tender gravied pork chop the promise of which once extended my mother's life briefly, or a chicken fried steak with white pepper gravy. These are the meats. Sometimes beef stew or tender pork ribs or maybe meatloaf. The three would be the sides, popularly understood as vegetables but often including something un-vegetable like such as a rich macaroni with cheese, dirty rice or just boiled white rice, a baked potato with butter or sour cream or both, mashed potatoes with gravy, creamed or kernel sweet corn, etc. True vegetables might be green beans cooked with pork fat, collard greens (also cooked with pork or bacon fat), black eyed or field peas, pinto beans, fried okra, sliced tomatoes or sweet Vidalia onions, or just cornbread, either in muffins, slices, or shaped like a stick. You order a meat and three sides. You drink cold iced tea, either sweet or unsweet or half and half. You have a small cage of Tabasco or other hot sauces, ketchup maybe, mustard, etc. I miss these places. They're even better at breakfast but I'm already damn hungry and my train just stopped.

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