#Halogen Lamp

[garrett386]

OXYIMEDIA

Halogen Lamp

Illuminate your life like never before with our magical T13 Halogen Lamp. Experience a world of enchantment today!

[dandelionsdumal]

I love how the "male gay sex isn't so much a deviation from patriarchy as it is just a confirmation of masculine power dynamics, as historically the relation of pederasty explicitly involved the rape and domination of a younger male by the hand of an older male" crowd never seems to extend the same critical eye to lesbian sex, as if it is somehow pure and can be idealized as being a subversion of oppressive power structures. radfem kind of bullshit thought. It is also dehumanizing because of how many levels it seems to abstract sex in antiquity until it can become a very linear simple relationship of power. As if that was the only lens gay sex was seen on ancient rome. It's both dehumanizing and imprudent in terms of history buff shit.

[industrial-meat]

What really boils my piss about this is, there's no need for the damn things to be so bright *just because they're LED*; they could've switched out the halogen lights for a similar intensity LED and it would have been just fine!

...but apparently every goddamn manufacturer decided that, once they were free of the shackles of inefficient incandescent lamps, they were gonna *keep using just as much goddamn power, but now in the name of producing 1.61 Gigalumens of retina-searing blue-white*

"But just align them properly..." only helps on flat and straight roads. You're still fucked if there's a hill, or approaching a right-hand bend (left-hand bend, if you're in the rest of the world), where the headlight pattern won't save you. And I regret to inform you, both hills *and* bends exist -- and are commonplace -- in real-world roads; including ones without street-lighting, where the brightness difference is at its worst!

Like, goddamn, there's plenty of cars running round with one headlight out and the other aimed into oncoming traffic and as much as that's still *annoying* with incandescent headlights, they aren't as out and out blindingly bright so they don't trash your dark vision quite as badly.

I know we're locked in a fucking arms-race of seeing who can make the brightest goddamn headlights that push things as close to legal limits on pattern as they can, in the name of turning everything into daylight in front of the driver; but along with the arms-race of who can make the biggest, tallest, just-barely-legally-compliant SUVs, it's just a fucking safety hazard.

There's no need for it! I will die on this hill; mostly because I can't see the road because I've been blinded by some dickhead with 8000lumens of blue-white LED headlight cresting the hill in the opposite direction, and couldn't see the bend.

if anyone needs me i’ll be ripping the LED headlights out of every vehicle in the country

[a-noodle-named-daemon]

I truly couldn’t have guessed just how happy this noodle would make me

Daemon’s been with me for a whole year now!!! Noodle anniversary!!

[fiona-goldisgood]

700mm 300v 2200w Halogen Heating Lamp Customize Half White Heat

[oyatemolly]

SK15 ceramic 220V 2000W 3000w half white ruby Halogen Heating Lamp for Blowing Machine

[impossibletrashcrown]

Japan imported tungsten filament, high quality quartz tube, long time in 1100 degrees Celsius high temperature use.Add:48-1#,Tinghong Road Jiangnan-Dist,nanning City,Guangxi China.tel/Wechat/WhatsAPP:+86-15051158891. Email: LHJ@o-yate.com

[electricallightinguae]

It is essential to choose the right Electrical Components in the UAE for safety and performance reasons. If you are seeking the perfect industrial plugs and sockets, this article is a reliable guide. Continue Reading.....

[coffeenuts]

Bottled radiance -[ HMM ]- by Carbon Arc https://flic.kr/p/2nUQFiE

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

Original concept comes from @ceilidho’s military asset Soap. Further inspiration came from @391780’s Nikto version “The Summons”. Both are very good and you should definitely check out!!

Content: Post-trauma coping, Non-Con Touching and Kissing, Violence (mentioned), Unstable Soap

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

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Masterlist

[plasterbrain]

Ahoy-hoy! What font does pizziz gam use? I must shitpost accuratcorrectly. ThHanks!

The logo font is Candy by Andrey S. It was a weekly CreativeMarket freebie in 2016 but was wiped from the internet sometime before the game even came out. The only surviving download link I can find is on this completely legit-looking site.

Embedded fonts:

Dialogue: Goodlight (with New Athena Unicode for bits like the mojibake joke)

Typed text: F25

MOTHER text: Broken 15

Headings: SP Aftershock

Settings page: Halogen (this also used to be the dialogue font I think when we showed off the Arim cooking show scene at YoumaCon 2015)

Gamejolt window etc.: Nunito

Character handwriting fonts (for autographs and phone conversation backgrounds)

Kiane: Metafors

Johnny: Hamilton by Graceful Market

Sensei: Seattle Avenue

Lamp: Splurge (Marker Tag for smaller text, Figge Hand Style also an option)

Chris: Justine Flowers

Roobit: Five Minutes

Keen: Big Mister C

Jay: Rushi Orange

I didn't write down Mr. Arim's unfortunately, I'd have to go see if it's installed on my old laptop and I already spent 30 minutes looking for links to Candy LOL

[netscapenavigator-official]

People in the notes of my post about Tesla removing the gear selectors from its new cars, asking how that's even legal, clearly have no idea just how incompetent and slow-paced the NHTSA is.

Halogen headlights weren't legal until 1979.

Composite headlights (the uniquely designed ones that aren't the old-school circle or square ones you see on older cars) weren't legal until 1984.

Adaptive High Beams (Matrix Headlights) were only recently legalized, in 2022; and the regulations and testing procedures in order to approve them are so haphazard and over-complicated compared to Europe's that not a single automaker has even made them available.

Side Curtain airbags still are not mandated in the United States.

Turn Signals can be red in the U.S., as opposed to the statistically safer amber which is mandatory in Europe.

Making that worse, those red turn signals are allowed to share lamps with the brake lights. This means if you have your turn signal on, 1/3 of your brake lights can’t do their job because they're too busy doing another job.

There is no law in the United States dictating that an electric car must put on its brake lights when Regen braking. In fact, the law specifically states that only the friction brakes are required to activate brake lights. You can bring a Hyundai Ioniq 5 & 6, Kia EV6, Genesis GV60, and many other EVs to a rapid, complete stop without ever activating the brake lights.

Early model Chevrolet Bolt EVs and some Mercedes-Benz EVs will activate the brake lights appropriately when slowing down, but will deactivate their brake lights once they've come to a complete stop, allowing the car to sit at a standstill in the road without any indicator that it isn't traveling at the same speed as you are.

It's completely up to the automaker to decide how (or even if) to implement regen brake lighting. EVs and Hybrids have been around since the late 1990s and this still hasn't changed.

The US government STILL only evaluates a vehicles crash safety by crash testing it at 35 mph into a flat wall and t-boning it with a barrier representing a 3,000 lb sedan. They don't do an offset frontal test or a truck-barrier side test like the IIHS has been doing for private insurance companies for over a decade.

The NHTSA performs ZERO pedestrian crash safety tests like EuroNCAP does.

Oh, and on the topic of gear selectors, those aren't regulated at all. Here are some examples from modern cars, both electric and not:

BMW i3 & Nissan LEAF (Electric):

Toyota Prius (Hybrid) & Honda Clarity (Plug-in Hybrid):

RAM 1500 & Cadillac Escalade (Gasoline):

The automotive rules of the American government are pure chaos, and that’s if they're even there at all. If you're seriously asking how Tesla can allow a car to select reverse on its own, and then put the manual override in the touch screen, I mean, that's just scratching the surface.

If you wanna learn more, Technology Connections on YouTube has some great videos on the Turn Signal issue, the EV Regen brake light issue, and the history of the headlight regulations. I highly recommend you check them out because it truly puts into perspective just how awful the NHTSA is at doing its one job: keeping safety standards up-to-date.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1972 Buick Silver Arrow III

Conceived by GM styling boss Bill Mitchell, the Silver Arrow III was a dramatic reinterpretation of the production boattail Riviera introduced in 1971.

Just as the fabulous Silver Arrow I show car (read about it here) was based on the production 1963 Buick Riviera, the SIlver Arrow III was based on the production version of the third-generation boattail RIviera introduced in 1971. (There was also a Silver Arrow II based on the second-generation 1970 RIviera, but it barely saw the light of day.)  All the Silver Arrows, of course, were the creation of Bill Mitchell, the colorful boss of GM’s design studio from 1958 to 1977.

Much as he did with the Silver Arrow I, Mitchell had the Silver Arrow III extensively modified to more closely resemble its original design studio counterpart (above).  The greenhouse and rear quarter panels were reworked and the roofline was lowered to produce a sleeker, more dramatic profile. (For comparison, see our feature on the production 1971 Buick Riviera here.) Other classic Mitchell touches included wire wheels, an ensemble of six rectangular halogen headlamps across the front end, and an exquisitely detailed cockpit in silver leather with bucket seats and console.

Introduced at the 1972 Detroit Auto Show at Cobo Hall, the Silver Arrow III boasted a number of advanced features, including four-wheel disc brakes and Max Trac, an early form of electronic traction control that was offered on the production Riviera as well. Above the backlight at the trailing edge of the roof was a set of high-level warning lamps that also served as secondary directional indicators. Additional show-car touches included a fully chromed and detailed 455 CID Buick V8 under the hood.

When the Silver Arrow III appeared on show floor at Detroit, Chicago, and elsewhere in 1972, we’re not quite sure what the ultimate effect was, except perhaps to throw some shade on the more conservatively styled production Riviera. It is known that Mitchell was quite proud of the two Silver Arrows—here, below, he’s shown posing with the pair. Both Silver Arrow I and Silver Arrow III are still in existence today.   -Photos courtesy of General Motors. 

[fiona-goldisgood]

1500w 220v/1000w 220v Clear Glass Heating Tube Halogen Infrared Heat Lamp For Screen Printing Machine