Wugmeister

I mean, same here, but if an influencer migrates from Twitter they usually bring their fans with them.

One of those pillows that looks like an inflating phone battery.

Better idea: 3"*4" Magnetic viewing film, stored in a thoughtfuk card, which is wrapped in a box with 6"*6" thermochromatic film, which is itself is wrapped in a box with a roll of glow in the dark tape, and then given to them with another thoughtful card that holds a gift card to somewhere you think they would like. Basically a nesting set of tiny cool things that all cost about as much as the wrapping paper they are in.

I agree with the other commenter’s points, but one thing I think people forget to mention is that BlueSky feels like Twitter in a way Mastodon just doesn’t. When I am trying to pitch Mastodon to people, I usually compare it to Tumblr because the vibes are similar.

Mastodon is also flat out hostile to influencers, and by that I mean the platform is designed to be terrible to influencers. The lack of an alogarithm means you can’t game the system, no quote tweets means you get less opportunities to spread, no reply limiting means your notifications are going to be going nuts from the replies. The culture on Mastodon is difficult to game too, since people there expect thoughtful responses to their replies.

Well, what snapped me out was when I ran an experiment that proved how strong the placebo effect could be, which caused me to reflect on my beliefs and realize that literally all the Werewolf wizard powers I thought I had could be explained by the placebo effect. Naturally, I concluded that I couldnt trust anything my senses told me and spent a few days trying to figure out how to deal with the possibility of being a brain in a jar.

And of course, right after I’d rebuilt my entire conception of reality from first principles, that’s when I found out that some of the memories I had of things I was most proud of and defined myself by were provably false. So, as you would expect from me considering my calm and careful reaction to the placebo effect, I then decided that all my memories couldn’t be trusted.

So, can’t trust my senses, cant trust my memories. That’s pretty much all the things I can use to define myself. So, based on the lack of valid evidence I concluded that I do not exist.

And that’s how I stopped being a flat-earther wizard werewolf. Thankfully eventually I came around to agreeing with Descartes on the whole “I think, therefore I am” thing. After I climbed out of the psychological hole I dug over the next six months, I recovered with only a severely crippling fear of advertisements.

I believed there was a big hole in the north pole where the magnetic field comes out

I was convinced a was a Werewolf with psychic powers. Also that the hollow earth is real, because that’s where the mole people aliens come from. And I also thought the Big Bang Theory was funny.