#manual meat grinder

[muizin]

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Multifunction High Speedy Chopper Shredder Manual Meat Grinder Kitchen Tools

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Please note: While we strive for accuracy, there may be slight variations in size due to hand measurement, and color differences may occur due to monitor settings. Additionally, we understand that items may incur damage during transit. If your item arrives damaged, please reach out to us immediately so we can resolve the issue promptly.

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Specification:

Product Color: Green

Product Material: ABS; PP; Stainless Steel

Product Size: 130*95*75mm

Product Weight: 200g

Product Capacity：About 500ml

Package Content:

1x Chopper

[leibholz-moved]

— can’t think about l**** m****** for two seconds without erupting in an unhinged mel blanc scream at the top of my lungs tbh! cool!

[moxiebustion]

Star Wars Age Swap/Master-Apprentice Swap but Anakin is still a complete dumpster fire of a Master so young Obi-Wan basically treats him as a How-Not-To-Do-It section of the How-To-Jedi manual and ends up honing his diplomacy skills convincing Anakin to let him manage all the "boring bits" like paperwork, research and logistics in order to keep clones from being thrown into the meat grinder of Anakin's more insane plans. He gets so good at this that he inadvertently ends up making Anakin a figurehead within his own command.

Anakin: *Proposes some wildly bad strategy with zero stealth, high potential body count and low rewards*

Obi-Wan, blank faced: Very good, Master. We shall probably need an ace pilot to reconnoiter the battlefield beforehand just to make sure intelligence is up to date.

Anakin: One of the clone pilots can-

Obi-Wan, a very perceptive fourteen-year-old: I heard that Senator Amidala in attending a peace conference in the next quadrant over, maybe you could also brief her on the... war... progress, while I handle the paperwork again.

Anakin: Good thinking Padawan, one day you'll be as good a knight as I am! *leaves a contra-trail out the door*

Obi-Wan:

Clone Bridge Crew:

Clone Commander:

Obi-Wan: *makes a theatrical sounding beep and dramatically holds up his comm to his ears for 0.00005 seconds*

Obi-Wan, bald-faced lying: Okay, we've just got some... uh, new intelligence so unfortunately, we're not going to be able to use Master Skywalker's, ahem, plan.

Obi-Wan: So, artillery supply is here, main storage for their fighters is here, main ports for their supply lines are here and here. Small infil squads with demolition expertise should be able to take out everything except the fighter hanger and the destroyer can orbitally bomb that provided a couple of our pilots can take out the satellite sensory array before we drop into atmosphere right out of hyperspace. If we're fast and coordinate we should be able to take out all four simultaneously. If we're really efficient we should be able to take the capital and sue for peace within twelve hours before the General is done with his assignat-uh, briefing. Any questions?

Clone Commander, blank faced: No, Commander.

Plo Koon, half a million light years away: Did anyone else just feel a wave of relieved THANK THE FORCE hit the galaxy like a tsunami, or is it just me?

[girl-lostconnection]

Helldivers are just little freaks to me, freaky half feral dog creatures that are tossed to the meat grinder of war. Starving war dogs that do not understand what they are starving for exactly but nonetheless still chasing after what was demanded of them, hoping that maybe, MAYBE, if they go further-If they complete even more missions, they’d no longer feel that gnawing hunger even if it chips away at their very souls.

ANYWHO😌 this is reader to me

“Remember that you can’t save everyone. Remember that you have to try” YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME JESTER OH MY GODDDDDDD THE WAY MY HEART SANK. But yeah, you are spitting facts out here, I’m ready to sign under every word you are saying here.

@jesterinc, my G, this one’s for you

Helldiver!Reader who lives this long mostly because of the kindness and patient teaching from older divers. The shared knowledge, the shared manuals, shared camaraderie.

Reader who doesn’t know why Helldivers who are so much more skilful and who could (and by any standard should have) left them behind decided not to.

Question that keeps them up at night sometimes, question that ping pongs off the walls of their head, echoing louder when it’s too quiet.

Why-why-why-why-why?

Reader who doesn’t understand why these behemoths of war tried to help time after time after time.

They don’t get it until they got their first cadet joining in for a mission.

Jumpy tense thing, losing more bullets than actually hitting the enemy, not used to a recoil yet, not sure how to adjust the satellite tower, not very knowledgeable about the mechanics of battle that are their new home now.

(Everyone knows that Helldivers don’t die sleeping. Everyone knows that death is better than shame)

Reader who suddenly gets it why these older Helldivers helped them, why they carried a new pup on the battlefield, why wasn’t they just kicked to the side.

It is often said that Helldivers as a branch are one big pack of feral dogs.

Starved for scraps of approval, dying too young and snarling at every outsider. Feral creatures. Weapons of war.

Judgement rained from the sky on unsuspecting enemies.

It is often overlooked that the most prominent rule Helldivers live by is “we do not mock young in the field. We do not make them crawl and beg. We help. We were there once. We know how it feels to be a feral dog in eyes both enemies and allies. We know how it feels to be left behind. We do not leave ours behind”.

You that lives long enough to get a little bit closer in experience and skills to mammoths that helped you years ago to survive.

You who patiently covers for young cadet as they fumble with terminals.

What’s a little time wasted if this one might live long enough to crawl higher in rank.

What’s a little effort spared if you as divers already have to prove to everyone that you deserve to be here.

That you are not just dogs. That you deserve the same respect command shows to other branches.

You aren’t going to make cadet “prove themselves” when they have already passed the selection.

They are already here, aren’t they? Means they are worthy. Means they are yours.

Once Helldiver — always Helldiver.

It’s a constant journey and an uphill battle, you seeing first hand how fucking cruel life is to their branch.

How unfair command is. How hard missions are.

So what’s a little kindness shown if cadet behind them might live long enough to see the new generation of cadets.

If one day they too might become what you were to them today. What older Helldivers were to you when you started out.

Your branch is full of feral dogs and behemoths of battle, your branch is a dangerous thing (a grenade without a pin, a rifle without safety, a big bad wolf) hanging on by a thread of believing that your suffering can make the world a little better.

A little safer. A place where young cadets like this one will have more support, more training, more respect.

Simon watches you intently, eyes heavy with understanding, fingers twitching to reach out.

“Remember that you can’t save everyone, Captain”, he hums out, meeting your eyes in the reflection as you watch cadet buying new stratagems with excitement, their rank plate moving up.

Slowly, torturously slowly but steadily. Up-up-up.

They live thought the mission. They live through next three you walk them through. You won’t let them die. Not if you can help it.

“I know”, you muse back and there is phantom feel of hands on your shoulders, hands showing how to properly hold the rifle, hands dragging you out of hell because yeah, no one is gonna save Helldivers.

Other than Helldivers themselves.

You watch the young diver jog to the “Stratagem Hero” arcade, practically vibrating with excitement, eyes darting to you, asking for permission.

Their grin so wide when you nod to go ahead and try it, that you feel like their helmet might be illuminated from inside out.

They are painfully young and achingly fragile, not yet honed by years of work out in the field, their hands not yet calloused and burned one too many times.

Yeah, you remember that you can’t save everyone.

You also remember that you have to try.

[just-some-friendly-fun]

✦ ᴀ ɴᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇ

: ̗̀➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ #: ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛ (OC x Canon)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: The days that follow after the dawning truth that befell Iacon, and the waste that had been laid as a result of the new leaders of Autobots and Decepticons have now stirred a mutlitude of reactions amidst the people of Iacon. Some feel betrayed and others angry over the lies they'd been fed their whole lives, and even some stir in denial as a result of their false Prime and all he'd done... While others bear a more personal wound after his termination.

■ ᴛᴀɢꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: HUGE TF: One Movie Spoiler!! Major Character Death, Angst, Hurt, Character Grieving Over a Character's Death, Graphic Violence (Gore), Assault (someone gets a bottle thrown at them), Oc x Canon, Sentinel Prime & D-16 Megatron are mentioned, but only appear in flashbacks.

✎ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6,869

ׂ╰┈➤ A/N (if needed): Felt like putting one of my OCs into the emotional meat-grinder for fun, and also I'll post a song that I listened to while writing these, because yanno. Also, if I do need to tag anything else please lmk. This is sort of my rough first-time posting smthn like this, so lmk what you think!

▶︎ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: ᴍᴏʀᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ - ᴀꜱʜᴇ

Three.

Weeks.

It had been nearly three weeks

Three weeks since the fall of Sentinel, when he had finally been shot down for flying too high where he should've never gone in the first place, and ended up crashing violently back onto Cybertronian soils as his plummet burned him alive and seared his frame.

Seared every part of his legacy, his influence.

His reputation and face once so boldly plastered onto every wall and holographic transmission, now torn down by servos once so welcoming and worshipping of their false God... Now turned to claws that dug angrily to tear off his face, his mark on Iacon, his history.

And maybe it was all deserved in the end, it really was--some way or other.

Memories of the day arrived in a constant fold, time and time again, washing over what little peace she had since the loss. It would often come to tear at her again when she had thought too much--and far too long on it, more than she was willing to admit.

Sunblitz wished she never did think on it sometimes, wished she hadn't been there during the execution, wishing that she didn't have the exact front row seats to his public execution that never stopped to remind her day in and out on what the color of Sentinel's frame looked like when his t-cog was torn out from him.

Or was it ever really his t-cog to begin with?...

Sunblitz's talons dragged further into her berth as it let out a weak scream from the metal to metal contact. Her pain bleeding into the desire to hurt what couldn't speak. To destroy something when her entire life had been practically wrecked in itself, the fault befitting more to the cup of her servos than any other.

She closed her optics and rendered herself locked in her own berth, her coffin of sorts, and waited for the rust to settle in, beginning first where her spark laid beating still--painfully so.

The flier tried to keep her optics shut tight, before re-opening them again, then closed, then open, a constant dance out of the darkness casted by her eyelids and to the shadows she casted over herself as she hid from the world beneath a tarp.

She was trying to furiously eradicate the memory from her processor core manually, time and time again as she writhed uncomfortably, merely pushing the recollection back only for it to have struck her back harder, running away and only to be captured and let go again.

✦ ✦ ✦

"No!.. No--!! Please! Please! Stop! Stop!" Sunblitz screamed, helplessly dragging herself on the floor, claws reaching to the open air as several of the golden death trackers and guards lay beside her in a heaping mess. Each of the polished plating reflected the appearance of her dreadful look as coolant furiously spilt from her faceplate to follow the tear-like designs already pre-made upon her looks, now giving them a real purpose, to no longer imitate for the sake of art.

Pain gripped at her very frame, seeping into the wires and plaguing her systems with a hot sensation that made it unbearable. She could feel the shock settling in as she pushed herself across the ground with the exposed axis of her legs, the exposed wires trailing along. She choked back a cry with every time the raw wound touched to the ground. Her legs were strewn about elsewhere by the hands of D-16, a cost of her duty--but by accordance to his views, a cost for intervening in this public execution.

No.

Not D-16.

Something far worse than Sentinel could've ever been in her optics. By the hands of a--a monster in his place.

She crawled pathetically with desperation, the pain of her missing legs searing through her sensors with every drag as she pathetically moved with desperation to stop D-16 while he lifted Sentinel into the air for all of Cybertron to see.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go... This shouldn't end like this.

"No..! No!! No--Please!!" Her voice rang shrill, a shattering pitch that went unheard. Sentinel was lifted higher and higher, the Prime's mouth agape once the silver mech behind him began to fasten his grip around one half of his body and then the other before a loud, sickening wail of stretched metal sounded in the air, slow and torturous.

"STOP!--"

A cacophony of limbs, wiring, and steel flesh began to split as the city of Iacon fell first to hearing Sentinel's choked screams of agony, followed by bloodlust-filled hollers and cheers below somewhere amidst the exiled. His helm tilted further back, his servos unable to stop himself from breaking into two as he was split apart by servos fueled with rage. This was the end.

Her optics had met to his, and every part of her screamed in her mind--get up!

GET.

UP.

But the painful truth took hold to her. She wasn't going to make it. She couldn't do a thing in this state but watch, helplessly with her optics torn wide open to remember this moment vividly, for the rest of her life. She should've looked away, saved herself the addition of another drowning tidal wave of pain until, for the briefest moment Sentinel had left, he spoke up, and out rolled a final lie to the world, to her.

"It's... Alright-" He choked, ".. It's gonna be okay-"

His words no longer existed, cut short, and abrupt, followed by a crash of metal and snapping circuitry, and wires that filled the air. It was still day and yet with every spark that flew across her vision and crackle of electricity, for a moment. She thought she was seeing the stars to the universe die out.

And then, she was no longer looking at optics lit with life anymore, as his body--a part of it-- fell before her and it took...

One.

Two.

Three flickers.

Before the rings in the lens of his optical receptors went out one by one, until he had finally been rid from the world, lips parted in a silent scream that Sunblitz herself couldn't have voiced for him as her vocalizer had been strained to its limit, leaving every choked cry to befell her to become agonizing.

Even when his death wasn't enough. Sunblitz lifted her helm to watch while Megatron proceeded forth, unsatisfied yet of his slaughter. He began to reach down, tearing open the chassis and into the chest cavity again to feast upon the rewards that lie waiting for him. Sentinel Prime was soon desecrated, robbed of the very thing he stole from another, Megatronus' t-cog now befitting to the new brutal revolutionist who preached to his followers below.

Her spark hammered against her chassis, the echo ringing in her audial receptors at the sight and she felt a stinging urge in the back of her throat to throw up, force everything out as her tears were the first to begin spilling from her in rapid streams. In her last morsels of strength, she crept forward, sliding close enough to pull what remained back to her, and to reap the scavenged remains, holding close while it was already beginning to dim into a cold, gray design. She held to his body, offering a warmth that was meaningless, pleas left unheard, gripping to it.

Sunblitz sobbed into the side of his helm and lifted it carefully off the floor and laid it against her, to find some meaning to the weight and to trick herself into believing, despite the odds, he was alive... Even for a moment, shredding her sense of reality just for a droplet of delusions. It didn't help when the weight had grown a smidgen lighter, cold.

She didn't know what compelled her to say it, but as her spark began to wring itself dry from the twisting threads of her own emotions, she spoke up.

"Don't... Don't you dare leave me like this, Sentinel Prime..." She silently sobbed, "Don't you dare... Go," Before burying her faceplate into the crook of his neck.

✦ ✦ ✦

An abrupt knocking came at the door, violently yanking Sunblitz from the cycle of pain Sunblitz had thrown herself within as she pushed up to her knees, her fore-helm against the berth. She waited.

"Sunblitz. Open up. You can't stay in there forever,"

At the voice of her carrier, Sunblitz shifted further into the blankets as if to hide from an unseen gaze. She was beginning to feel the tarp she concealed herself with grow taut against her wings. It tangled and snagged onto several nooks and crannies along her frame. A soft creak of her body became her only response, and in turn, another knock came harder than the last.

"Sunblitz." Voltcharge began, and from there. Voltcharge didn't have to start any further on her lectures or demands.

Sunblitz knew better.

So, with aching resistance, she slowly untangled herself and yanked on the tarp, attempting to throw it off of her frame but only stopped from her harsh throws and pulls once it snagged sharply on the parts between her arms and wings. A trickling sensation of pain seeped with the tight lock she found herself in, forcing her to halt abruptly.

She grimaced, forced to be gentle to herself as she searched her frame for the snag, and slowly unloosened the tangled tarp from the space in-between her gears, before resuming. Her fight became a loss. Her optical receptors slowly adjusted to the dark silhouette of her room, only illuminated by the slight crack that remained ajar by the curtain-covered glass wall that led out to the balcony of her room. She stepped out of her berth, and let out a ragged sigh, breathing in and out to make sure her vocalizer hadn't strained itself too much from the countless hours she spent in her vulnerability, wondering if the walls had been thick enough to conceal and keep her secrets in.

She hoped they were.

Heavy trudges answered to the door, she swiped her face-plate and reached for the input pad of her door, slipping the code with a few clicks of the keys before she came face to face with the older femme beyond, and a tray full of energon cubes stacked into a loosely designed pyramid, with a few blocks here and there led astray from the initial concept clearly. Sunblitz glanced at the appeasement gift, then to the older femme.

Voltcharge's audial finial twitched, and she slowly offered the tray forth, serving to her first patron of the day.

For a moment, Sunblitz eyed at the cubes, and then back up to Voltcharge in silent questioning, her vocalizer unfit to produce any real words just yet before the silent exchange ended with a sigh.

The older femme re-adjusted the positioning of her hold on the tray and spoke up, plucking a cube from the arrangement, "Might've over done it a little but... You skipped on refueling hours quite a bit ago, I thought I'd bring extra," She expressed, explaining to the design as it left Sunblitz to huff.

"... I don't need it," She said, internally cursing as her words began to drag with a prominent rasp.

Her carrier was immediate to the slight catch in her throat and the voice Sunblitz carried, before she spit-fired back a solemn response, "Like slag you don't," Before visibly liftening her sharpened optical ridges and softening her gaze. She bit down her glossa for coming off too strongly and to make up for it, a quiet "sorry" escaped her and she shifted her placement beneath the tray again, to selected one of the Energon cubes. She plucked to one of the cubes, the one from the very top now lying at the bottom of Sunblitz's outstretched hand, "... Just, take one, at least. You can't keep neglecting your health like this," Voltcharge spoke, with a touch of concern in her voice, her optics dimming to a pleading look.

By way of her weakened state and inability to deny the truth, Sunblitz couldn't help but begrudgingly sigh. She took the cube, placing it on her glossa as the conveyer-portion of it began to coax the cube into the back of her mouth and she proceeded to consume it under Voltcharge's careful gaze until it let up.

The older femme sighed with relief and her sharp gaze dulled to a passive look, her optics adjusting and brightening as she nodded at her eldest's compliance before walking off.

She paused briefly in her strides to look back at Sunblitz, tilting her helm in gesture once she noticed Sunblitz hadn't followed, "C'mon, come downstairs and help me get The Rewind up and at 'em, hm?"

Sunblitz huffed, "What's the point?..." Sunblitz remarked, Nobody's going to be coming here not after..." She trailed off, and pursed her lips, the fresh memories arising once again and making the sweet aftertaste of Energon on her tongue go sour while she gazed on to her carrier.

Voltcharge stared on and, she responded, offering Sunblitz another cube from the tray to goad her out of her room. Reluctantly, Sunblitz followed to pick up another Energon cube, and then down the stairs went Voltcharge who spoke between every step, "... It still doesn't hurt to keep it open for the people that still need this place. A place to come down to and rest, have a drink or two after everything," She advised. "The people need it. They deserve it,"

At that, Sunblitz couldn't deny the older femme's reasonableness on the matter. The idea of keeping The Rewind opened right after felt at some ways... Capitalizing off the conflicts as of late, but with the intentions her creator carried, it sways the thought.

Yet even then, Sunblitz wondered if the same could be said for her--whether the resolution would be just that simple, or enough. Her own mind felt like a mess, a steaming, hot pile of burning slag that not a cup of high-grade could fix or extinguish. Either way, she shook her helm to push her problems aside and followed dutifully after, syncing her steps to Voltcharge's,

"... Fine,"

. . .

Slowly, but surely, Sunblitz had resumed to aiding Voltcharge in setting up the establishment, the floors were cleaned, booths and tables polished, and inventory stock was checked, and so on to make the space cleaned up just right to keep the welcoming atmosphere hanging. A few customers had arrived in soon, not many clearly as she noticed that some hung outside the entry point, some merely turning away when they caught glimpse of Sunblitz to mumble something beneath their breath.

She pursed her lips at the hateful gazes that came and go, but she didn't necessarily point and blame them for it, not after everything.

She looked back into the rest of the establishment after giving the bar top a firm wipe-down. The place was nearly desolate, mind a few customers here and there that laid in the far corners, drinking themselves silly and having a good cry into their mugs. Others had finally gotten some shut eye, slumped in booths and tables--only finding rest when the drinks had pushed and encouraged for them to submit to the need for recharge, ending their days of neglect for rest or previous inability to.

No words were spoken amongst what remained of her family, as she looked around. Voltcharge was working behind the countertop as usual, having wiped clean the same glass when all others were already accounted for, and Razorcase was helping check up on the generators and other technical areas of the bar--trying to keep his own servos busy to occupy his mind from the messy days. At some extent, Sunblitz had even begun to wonder how her other sisters were holding up after the mess... Or at least one of them, no... Both.

She didn't even want to think of it like that, and regardless she did, now her attentions lingering on the thought of Silversong, and how she was doing since her body was... Recovered from the rubble.

Her tank began to coil uncomfortably again while she gripped the microfiber rag and to the shelf she was cleaning now, her claws lightly digging into the material of the furtniture.

Silversong had known to D-16 far longer than Sunblitz ever did, and she almost wondered whether somehow or other if Silversong had any part to the slag-show that resulted in all of this. And even without the role for causation, she almost wondered if Silversong did anything to stop that monster from becoming who he was and-

She stopped, her servo gripping fiercely into the steel shelf, nearly leaving indentations to the edges. The teeth of her digits had carved up the paint and material, dirtying the golden tips.

Sunblitz stared for a long moment, peeling her hand back and removing the rag from the shelf to clean off the evidence from her talons before deeply sighing. I need to get out of here, she thought, internally fearful of harming something else now while in her moments. She abandoned from her post from behind the countertop, throwing the rag loosely onto the flat of the table as she passed by her carrier in a speed-walking motion, catching their optic..

"Where are you going, Sunblitz?" .

Sunblitz continued her strides, slowing them down a step to speak rather than abandoning to Voltcharge's inquiries completely, "... To... Somewhere, I guess to uh. To get my processor off of things, y'know?" She remarked, trying to keep casual, extremely eager to leave.

"Do you need me to come along with you?-"

"No!" She abruptly began, like an uncontrolled blast from a gun, her words came out too sudden, too explosive than she would've liked-- which now left her patting out the flames of where her words ended up striking, looking to the surprised bartender, as guilt briefly glimmered in her optics.

Sunblitz cleared her throat "No--I mean, it's... Fine. I..." She waved a dismissive servo, averting her gaze, "I think--I'd like to go alone," She said.

After a moment of awkward silence, she slowly pivoted on her heel and pushed to moving towards the door again"... I-I'll be back soon, I promise,"

"Alright but, stay safe out there," The older femme resumed, and just as Sunblitz prepared to leave the establishment, she freezed at Voltcharge's next remark, morally obligated to stop and go like a delayed clock--uneven in its ticking and pace.

"-And you know you can always talk to me, right?" Voltcharge hummed, "Or Razorcase or even..." She froze mid-gesture, her own words now carrying too short and dropping like a dead fly.

She had trailed off, and Sunblitz had already known painfully too well what she was intending to say.

Your sisters.

But that option wouldn't be available at this moment, not with the current state of things as it almost made her scoff at the thought. Silversong was the last person she wanted to talk to right now, yet the only one she felt tempted to reach to, to demand answers even if it meant to grip to her unconscious form and to scream at her from there, to ask what had happened when she had disappeared off with the group of miners and came back to all this. And as for Hightop? Primus knows where she's gone since all that had happened, having remained holed up in her room from time to time or either gone elsewhere.

Her family was currently a mess of itself, so to her. It only felt right to leave and find her own space rather than rely to her closest ties--not while they were like this--a conflicting tangled web of lies, and mistrust, uncertainty and cluelessness, to put it crudely.

"Yeah. I know," She said, more lenient to brushing off the offering more than anything to seek her own methods of peace. She began to resume her trek, looking to her side and reached out as she took to an abandoned bottle of cheap high-grade left behind by some sap she remember slumped here from yesterday. Before waving out at the door, "I'll see you soon, Voltcharge,"

With that, she bid farewell and shortly departed, having felt the set of concerned optics burn into her back, attempting to shrug it off as she disappeared out the doorway.

. . .

"... Dirty traitor!"

"Lowly scum bag!"

"Wasn't it your job to protect us!?"

"Slagger!"

Sunblitz raised her forearm as a glass bottle crashed against her plating, wincing. Her forearm shielded herself from the shards that flew explosively in their own web of directions, fortunately none having entered in places she didn't want them to.

She opened up her optics devoid of glass--and made sure to keep them that way while she hurried off before another bottle could be thrown at her, narrowly missing her helm and into the wall she darted past.

The barrage of hostile messages barely relented with each step, wondering whether she should've just changed her passage route as it was beginning to become slowly more populated with bots who saw to her and thought,

"Now there's an outlet we can use. There's the one who was apart of this mess,"

Damn it all, she thought as she dodged poorly to a thrown can that nearly caused her to trip.

The group of various bots she had passed began to raise their volume with each advancement she made while walking away, wanting to remind her of her past with every opportunity they still had in her presence.

Sunblitz knew that she could've flown here, made it easier for herself had she taken to the skies but there was no longer any pride for her gift of wings. At the very moment, most fliers weren't regarded very well, considering that most of the fliers that once made up the population of Iacon were associated one way or another with Sentinel, some thought back to either the ex-High Guard, and Sentinel's personnel, now turned Decepticons or either dead.

Even if she did take the option, she couldn't put much trust that it'd be a smooth sailing without someone deciding to take her down from the skies with just one very accurate and emotionally driven throw of a tool or some other, so for now. She dismissed the thought and forced herself down this walk of shame, venturing on and taking to the strikes of cans against the helm, sheet metal and anything else that proved to be a rather effective tool to remind her of her regrets and faults for ever associating so closely with Sentinel Prime.

She wondered if he'd be even laughing or pitying her from where he stood in the afterlife by now.

Down the streets she went, down every road, and path. Her pede followed to very calculated steps, an internal route that she had followed time and time again to visit to the one place where she'd be able to find some quiet to herself... The one place where she truly could speak to someone freely without interruption.

She turned up around a corner and glanced around for a moment, having drawn out on the farther side of Iacon city down at the outskirts. She sighed, and trudged up to a particular space, twisting to one more corner, down a flight of short stairs.... And there, she found herself face to face with Sentinel Prime.

...

Or what was left of him really.

The intricate statue that remained of his head had been worn out, cracked in the side of the helm where it had its first taste of concrete after several of the miners down in the center of Iacon took it down from its shiny pedestal, the only recoverable part she could find in the mess of broken pieces of his limb and bod.

His faceplate adorned to smears, and scars, littered in desecration that aimed to ruin everything he found so perfect in himself. His jaw had been broken off too, ironic, to say the least--perhaps for the sake that he could tell no more lies. Even in this petrified yet solemn expression.

Beside it, there was his wings--his actual wings--clipped from the scene during his fight with Megatron. She even wondered how she had managed to find these in rather adequate condition, after her recovery, and after her makeshift trials with the new leader, Optimus Prime. She had initially suspected that someone would've at least made a grab for them to destroy and throw away or some other. Yet it didn't feel so much as a lucky find and more of a dreadful discovery that some part of him survived when the rest hadn't.

It was the only thing she had left of Sentinel to remember of him, not that he had deserved much of a proper memorial in the eyes of the people who once adored him.

Sunblitz almost wondered what they had already done to the rest of his frame already, probably melted it down into slag and then thrown away to be turned into garbage, some sort of tragic cycle of being used to be rendered useless again, or perhaps turned into something undignified, a crude design of his visage to remind all of Iacon the liar that had been plaguing their government for years... Or maybe her processor was all too forgiving, too kind, and uncreative at the moment to really wonder what happened and what they'd done to it, because most certainly, she knew that Iacon bore no kindness for being played like fools, nobody would.

Regardless, she took to the one thing she had left and properly arranged to the space again as it had come undone since her time away, keeping everything into place. His helm laid at the foot of a piece of debris, chipped poorly to make for a headstone. His wings leaned against the side of it, folded on the other instead of displaying proudly.

His name was once etched on the stone but became desecrated by her own golden talons, for the better--she thought. Otherwise, had anybody found the space she had been visiting to, Sunblitz was most definitely certain they would've just destroyed it completely, to purge Iacon of the traitorous figure.

The flier eventually settled, only after scarring to the stone obelisk again, making her... Seventh notch in the material before sitting down in front of it where she could face the decapitated stone helm.

She watched it, as it watched her, and with a deep sigh. She pushed out her first words to the open air,

"Hey," She greeted, with no mirth, and nothing short of forced casualty.

...

Silence.

As to be expected.

...

She slowly clenched her digits close and parted her lips, ready to speak again until... All the words she had, mingled into something else altogether, her internal script becoming unwoven by the letter,

"I..."

Sunblitz took in another breath, her ventilators whirling as her processor tried to find something, to untangle the words and make this as clean as possible, gripping to the lower end of her facial plate.

It shouldn't have been this hard--she's done this before.

She was speaking to a rock for Primus' sake.

"I--hff." She huffed, and tried again and only embarrassed herself further when a choked noise escaped.

Primus, she looked insane.

"Ugh...Hhhgghh---!!! Frag. Frag it all I guess! Let's just. Let's just roll with the punches," She expressed, miserably reassuring herself as she threw out her desired, clean scripts out her mental window, doing it the way she's always done...

Not like the ways that she was once used to, no.

There were no more cleanliness to anything she did, she wasn't given that option anymore. Just a mess, of herself and--everything!

"Frag it--frag it all! I don't even know what the hell I'm even doing here, talking to this--talking to you--I look insane!" She exclaimed, judgmental of herself in every part when the figure before her wasn't even alive for her to blame.

Throwing her servos forward and glaring at the Sentinel helm, she huffed at its natural indifference, "Y'know what? I bet you're all up happy--happy and prancing about in the Allspark right now, all giddy and slaggin' gone stupid with joy that you didn't have to fight bolts and nails to prove your innocence, huh?! That you didn't have to be down here like all the rest of us facin' the consequences of your own actions!" Sunblitz breathed, her chassis rising and falling as her anger steadily rose with the silence from the stone, pinching the metal between her optical ridges.

She was right somewhere, this was stupid--let alone embarrassing to be talking to this inanimate object that looked like her last partner albeit bodyless...

and... Jawless... And lifeless.

But, damn if she did and damn if she didn't--whatever she was doing. It was working in getting her to talk and so she persisted, sighing and grabbing to the stone head, holding it close in hopes that it would help burn her out soon enough in her tangents and hopeless rants.

"You don't even KNOW how absolutely fraggin' grueling it's been bein' around here and cleaning up after you!" She hissed, "... Telling and begging all of Iacon to believe me--me! One of the very closest people to you--you, who had to go and blow up everythin', and make an absolute slag show out of this entire thing!" Sunblitz exclaimed, shaking her helm, "I--I honestly can't believe it! Do you even understand how terrible it was?! To be looked at and ridiculed, to no longer make people feel safe around you when you swore to protect them?!"

She almost felt like throwing the helm out of her lap. Her digits wrapped tightly around the sides, watching as the material cracked slightly, breaking under her harsh gaze and even harsher treatment.

Sunblitz forced herself to exude once again, some extent of restraint, not wanting to actually break him despite the temptations that lied in the back of her processor to do so, to take and find some peace in destruction, as she always did, be it on herself or something else.

She closed her optics again, gritting her dentas and sucking in a sharp breath--then carefully dropping the helm back onto foot of the obelisk to keep it away from her talons, scoffing at it instead.

Reeling in her anger, she found the strength to speak up once more when she had the coherency to, forcing herself to drop her dignity out so that her whirlpool of thoughts at the moment would be better balanced and given light of this opportunity. She doubted that she'd ever get the chance like this to speak to him, to argue like she used to, to hear his stupid voice, watch his face crack with bafflement at her defiance.

This was her taste of reprieve and for her alone, so she'd be sure to relish in every part of the taste of it,

"... All of Iacon's struggling to process what you did still, half the center of the city is wrecked and we've got new messes arriving soon. There's... There's Decepticons and Autobots now. And... And they're being lead by the miners that--- you messed up, the ones that.. You.. You tore out their transformation cogs from?!... I mean, who does that and... And you lied to me! You lied to me this entire time and kept it secret--from me!!" She pointed to herself.

The decapitated head only stared and continued to say nothing.

Sunblitz huffed and shook her helm, not even understanding why she was getting so worked up about this statue-head not reacting, not saying a word, blinking, anything--and yet she knew somewhere, that some other. It was the simple work of projection, forcing all her emotions onto this single, lone block of stone that made it real enough for her to converse with--or rather simply fill the silent space around with her voice. Every echo coming back in her own words felt just right enough to make up for a conversation, even if it felt a little mocking and uncomfortable.

She didn't know if that made her more of a fool to the fact that she tricked herself into believing just enough that this hunk of rocks was him, or the fact that it was working.

Her thoughts lingered and delved now that she was alone and face to face with him, some part that fooled her just enough.

She thought back and swam in her memories, no, not swam--she began to drown in them and her own doubts, sinking further into the spiraling whirlpool of her mind before, bobbing to the surface again with an unsteady realization, "...Primus, how long have you been lying to me? For how long did you keep up this facade?"

Silence.

"... Was there every any truth to anything you said...?" She muttered in disbelief.

The stone-head continued to keep quiet, lips permanently sealed, and in her dying hopes. She leaned back and steadily pressed her knees up to her chassis, crossing over her arms and glared to the rock before averting her gaze as she softened her voice, spitting out bitter words that hold no better heat than to a firecracker, "... And to think you had the audacity to lie to me, and promise me that it would be okay..." She scoffed, "... Was this your definition of it being 'okay' then?..."

...

Still, silence filled the air in place of his reply.

Her expression turned sour and she pursed her lips, faceplate scrunching up, "... You gave me a purpose here, a job, and somehow you ripped it away from me without having to do--anythin'. Now, the people of Iacon can't even look at me, because they think I'm just like you and... Airachnid--that I knew from the very beginning that you both were knee-deep in all this slaggin' mess... and don't even get me started on what they've got on with Airachnid now," She said, rolling her optics to the thought before glowering again.

Her gaze fell right back onto to the decapitated helm of Sentinel. She gripped her fists around air again and settled back into an uncomfortably bunched state, huffing as her wings drooped and she hid back behind the wall of her crossed arm to glare like a petulant child, the gaze giving away to a look of weariness, a flame in her eyes that should've been put out long ago,

"... I should feel lucky. In fact, I think you would've probably told me that I was lucky. Somehow or some other with that cocky, arrogance of yours somewhere." She said, "But I don't. I don't feel lucky. Between the three of us? And all that happened? ... I'm starting... To feel like you... You were the luckiest out of all three of us, Sentinel,"

She gripped her arms a little harder, bitter to the thought, "you got the easiest way out possible, while me and that bodyguard of yours had to suffer the collateral, and some of us--me, especially, and so many others, are now pickin' up after you, was this all really worth it?... Did all of this live up to your intended dreams caked in gold and all the finer things in life?!..." She near-shouted, before forcing herself to quell her anger by a smidgen, cutting off her volume first when she had heard pedes off in the distance down the alley walking by.

Her eyes widened, tucking herself further near to the tombstone close to the wall and kept quiet, silent and watchful until the silhouettes passed, keenly listening to the sounds of their steps

... Until silence became restored and she sat back with a relieved sigh, now solemnly glaring at the rock nearest to her lap before looking away when she had once again picked it up and carefully placed it into her folded legs,

"... Maybe she had already known this would happen, but me? I was the damned fool who knew nothin' of this..." She said, before something bit into her throat at the thought--the idea of being innocent and a victim--left a more burning flavor of disgust on her glossa than any of Cybertron's worse below-grade Energon could ever do, rephrasing,

"... No, I wasn't the damned fool who knew nothing... I knew something and felt too complacent to even think of sniffing around any further to see what kind of slag you were hidin' from me... From all of Iacon, from the world..." She rested a servo over his helm, and reluctantly dragged it to tilt his lifeless eyes up to her, by the chin.

"... If Primus had written your fate to be like... This? Then, by the Allspark, do I have some slaggin' criticism for his work," She said, trying to find something bitter to say but, all there was left in her internal storage now was just... Memories, both good and bad that she wanted to get off her chassis. The idea of something so sweet between brittle and sharp thorns of her mind was... Almost repulsive.

She reached back, and forced them out--like throwing out tchotchkes and toys she no longer needed or wanted, only to look back and wonder whether they still deserved to stay or to go

"... For a moment, and during the nights, I can't help but think... They were too easy on you, too merciful," She started up, outright blunt honesty as he would've expected from her, "... I sometimes think you should've been brought to justice, imprisoned, stripped of your wings, your power, somethin' more that I know would've hurt you more than what you got in the end... And sometimes, I can't believe I think that way now... Say things like that. It's like I'm right back to where I was the first few times I knew you... So hateful, and... Full of resentment," She crossed her arms over the top of his helm, bringing the rock close to her chassis, looking over it.

"Sometimes I wonder if I was even the first bot to have ever hated you when I came... What a privilege that would've been, hm? Someone original out of every copy here who said they 'loved' you,"

She sighed, "And now look at me." Sunblitz tilted the stone-head to face to her as she gently cupped the side of its face, the cold material leaving her to shudder as she narrowed her optics and lowered her helm.

Passing the weight out of her servos and back onto the ground, she stood up once more with a hardened expression, what softness lied now became suffocated, "... You are... One of the most downright, worst bots, I could have ever gotten the privilege to know... in this life cycle, and I..." She trailed, her servo wandering just short of the storage compartment to her forearm, taking out the extra company she brought with her in the form of a bottle of cheap high-grade, "...Honestly do not know... Or whether I ever truly knew... Whether I hated you or if I ever genuinely did... like you," She whispered the last half out, and sighed deeply.

Her index and thumb seized to the cork, twisting.

"... This one's for you, Sentinel,"

"pop!" went the plug, and out went the dark blue liquid. She took to a short sip of the bottle of processor-poison first, choking on the taste as she spilt the rest out over the rubble and mess that she called Sentinel's grave, sharing the awful drink out to her unresponsive partner. Her yellow optics dimmed to the lowest setting they'd been in since... Ever, watching as it spilled over and stained every part before becoming a pool on the ground that surrounded his helm like blood. Sunblitz watched until all of the contents slowly left the bottle and onto the crudely arranged headstone and for a moment. She observed to the waste.

It almost looks like his color, she thought, with pursed lips and a strain in her throat. Sunblitz cleared her vocalizer for the moment, trying to rid the bitter taste that lingered, looking to the headstone once more with a conflicted look that slowly gave away.

"... I hope you're happy with yourself from up there," She whispered, huffing as the bottle ran dry, before allowing it to slip from her fingers. It clattered onto the cold rubble where she knelt once more to come at eye-level to the stone, tracing her digits gingerly onto the engraved moniker, and her spark began to ache once more and twist itself painfully.

Blame it on the high-grade, she thought, blame it on the high-grade.

Before Sunblitz knew it, she held to the sides of the obelisk, and leaned her helm to it, a ragged sigh escaped and she breathed,

"I hate you..." She airily said, before allowing herself the moment of silence to pour out one last thing, suspecting that the poor high-grade pool beneath could use to a coolant finisher, as she softly breathed and wept against the monument in silence.

[beloved-menagerie]

[Image: Juan and the Menagerie cheerfully posing for a photograph, all clustered together in the frame. Juan smiles and flashes a peace sign, but there's something decidedly... strained in his expression. Miodrag rests his paw on one shoulder and holds a bottle in the other. Tiff brandishes a big scary knife. The others assembled hold forks, platters, and even a manual crank-operated meat grinder- Their grins are excessive to the point of being purposefully cartoonish, licking their chops and winking into the camera. This is something of a comedy photo oppertunity for them, despite Juan's evident nerves.]

okkkkkkk lets get this over with i need to go home go kiss my boyfriend and my girlfriend and also Charcoal's big stupid head

-- Juan

[coff-in]

Hii Uhm I just wanted to rant abt my total oc!

Her name is Ellie (Elizabeth Lilith Graves) she is 19 and has the mentality of a 5 year old on acid.

She is the youngest, she is like Ashley if she wasn't manipulative but just a ball of energy. (Basically pinkie pie from MLP)

She is the baker of the group! She started baking around 7 and was the one in charge of birthdays! Ashley takes a liking to Ellie because she always has the same impulsive thoughts as her!

Ellie always for some reason had it out for Andrew. She would give this man the stanky-est side eye as if he like slaughtered her first born. As they grew up, Ellie grew out of her unreasonable hate for Andrew, and started to enjoy his company (a bit too much...)

Since I can't show you a picture of her, just imagine Ashley just shorter hair (like really short) with red eyes and less revealing clothing.

Fun facts about Ellie

Her weapons are based on routes, Burial route it will be a hacksaw she named Micheal, in Love route it would be that one manual meat grinder (I forgot the name), and in the friendship route it would be a 4 for long chain with a bear trap at the end.

Her bunny color is black with red buttons for eyes

Considered poisoning Renee when cooking their dinner

She got accepted to a cooking college

do as you will with this info.

-Ellie anon

woah :0 i'll try to keep this information safe on my blog! she sounds really neat. i like the idea of sibling ocs that aren't immediately attached to andrew or ashley, they're able to sort of have a normal or not as messed up social life outside of their siblings, but they eventually start to depend or attach themselves onto andrew and ashley as time goes on.

very cool, ellie anon

[jacqui-dennett]

Painting with light still life

Manual meat grinder

[atplblog]

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[madewithonerib]

One man, a pickle bucket, and a potato peeler

The thought first struck Shawn Seipler in 2008 while staying at a hotel in Minneapolis.

Seipler was a road dog. A technology executive, he spent 150 days per year in hotels on business trips. And one night, after a few room service cocktails, he wondered what became of unused hotel room soap.

So, he called the front desk and asked.

“Excuse me, what do you do with all that leftover soap?”

“Sir, would you like another cocktail?

“Absolutely… but also, what happens to all that soap?”

“Well, we throw it away.”

“Do all hotels throw it away?”

“Yes, sir, it all goes to a landfill.”

Seipler did some back-of-the-napkin math and realized that millions of bars of perfectly salvageable soap were going to waste.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that,” Seipler told The Hustle. “And I decided I had to do something about it.”

A few weeks later, in his hometown of Orlando, he walked into a Holiday Inn and asked if they’d be willing to part with their unused soap. The general manager happily complied, and Seipler left with a giant bag of half-used toiletries.

“I went to 6 other hotels that same day and they all said the same thing,” recalled Seipler: “‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!’”

Armed with thousands of bars of soap, Seipler and a few friends set up a small “workshop” in a single-car garage in downtown Orlando.

The group sat on upside-down pickle buckets and scraped the outside of the soap bars off by hand with potato peelers, pulverized them in a meat grinder, melted them down in Kenmore slow cookers, poured the mixture into soap molds, dried it overnight, and cut it up into new bars.

Seipler (right) and his buddies in a garage, manually cleaning hotel soap, in 2008 (courtesy of Clean the World)

At his best, Seipler could churn out ~500 new soap bars per day.

The next question was what he was going to do with it all.

He laid out a bunch of stats and came to a realization:Hotels were wasting millions of bars of soap. At the time, ~9k children under the age of 5 were dying from hygiene-related illnesses every day globally. Studies showed that regular hand-washing could cut those deaths in half.

Seipler launched Clean the World and set out on a mission of getting those millions of bars of wasted soap to children in need.

To do that, the first thing he’d have to do is scale his operation. But getting monetary support for a real facility proved to be difficult.

“I put together a grant application for the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, imagining that Bill would walk up our driveway and hand us a check for $1m,” said Seipler. “We got a rejection notice within 8 hours of submission, with a note that said, ‘Please do not reapply for 3 years.’”

Donated hotel soap was piling up. The economy was in a bad spot. And if Seipler didn’t figure out a solution, the whole idea would die.

So, Seipler came up with an annuity model:

Hotels pay a small fee ($0.50 to $1 per room, per month) to participate in a soap recycling program.

They’re provided with everything they need to streamline donations and get rid of their waste: storage bins, shipping, staff training.

They also get impact reports detailing the social and environmental impact of their donations.

For hotels, this serves 2 purposes: 1) It was a relatively affordable way to get rid of all their waste, and 2) it helped them meet sustainability goals.

How the hotel soap recycling process works

Today, Clean the World partners with more than 8k hotels — roughly 1.4m rooms in total — around the world.

Its clients include major chains like Hyatt, Marriott, InterContinental, Walt Disney Resorts, and Hilton, in addition to cruise ship lines, casinos, and airlines.

Since 2009, the company has:

Collected 13m pounds of discarded soap from hotels

Distributed 68m bars of reprocessed soap to 127 countries

Diverted 23m pounds of plastic and soap waste from landfills

Its biggest partner, Hilton, which signed on all of its worldwide locations in 2019, has contributed 14.5m bars of soap in less than 3 years.

To recycle all of this soap, Clean the World has a $750k production facility in Orlando, and satellite facilities in Las Vegas, Hong Kong, the Dominican Republic, Montreal, and Amsterdam.

“It’s a much more professional operation now,” said Seipler. “No more potato peelers or meat grinders.”

The process to convert hotel soap into new bars works like so:

Clean the World provides a participating hotel with storage bins; when full, they’re shipped to a Clean the World facility

Soap goes into a giant refining machine, which filters out hair, dirt, and other debris, and churns out “soap noodles”

Soap goes into a mixer and is sterilized with diluted bleach

Soap goes into a duplex plodder, where it’s pummeled into a powdery substance and compressed into long solid blocks

Soap is cut into bars, stamped, and packed into boxes

Soap is sent to countries in need

Hotels all use different types of soap, and there’s a whole science to mixing the right bars together. Holiday Inn Macau’s oatmeal bars, for instance, pair well with Aloft Taipei’s Bliss bars. Clean the World relies on 20k+ volunteers to determine the right sorting process.

Every donated bin is weighed so Clean the World can give hotels detailed impact reports chronicling things like:

The number of new bars contributed

The total pounds of landfill waste diverted

Carbon footprint reduction (in kg of CO2)

The number of refugees the soap directly impacted

Water and energy use reduction

Once the soap is repurposed and ready for its second life, Clean the World works with humanitarian partners like UNICEF, United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, World Vision, and Children International to determine where it’s most needed around the world.

With these partners, they’re able to work with local clinics and schools, where they teach kids hygiene protocols and monitor effectiveness.

The organization played a big role in providing soap to Syrian and Somalian refugees, and Haitian residents in the wake of the 2010 earthquake.

By volume, the largest amount of soap has gone to countries like the Philippines, Zambia, and Honduras.

But in recent times, another country has been added to the list: the US.

A pandemic pivot

In 2020, Clean the World faced a frustrating problem:

Supply was crimped by massive hotel closures

Demand for soap in the US was at an all-time high

“We were nearly on the brink of extinction at a time when people needed soap more than ever,” Christina Flores, Clean the World’s marketing director, told The Hustle. “We had to let 80% of our staff go.”

When hotels began to slowly open back up, many big chains — including Marriott and IHG (the parent company of Holiday Inn) — also pivoted from packaged soaps to big refillable dispensers.

Facing a diminished supply, Clean the World launched a new arm that provides at-home kits consumers can fill up with unused soap and other toiletries at home.

To date, the organization has distributed 5m+ of these kits to US homeless shelters and other countries facing sanitation supply chain shortages.

These initiatives have had a considerable global impact.

As the largest hotel soap recycler in the world, Clean the World has helped lead to a 60%+ reduction in the number of children who die from diarrheal diseases each year.

One 3-ounce bar of soap is good for 100 hand-washings — enough to significantly cut down the risk of contracting such illnesses.

A big problem still looms: worldwide, an estimated 3B people still don’t have access to hand-washing facilities with soap. And thousands of hotels still throw away their soap waste.

Luckily, Clean the World isn’t the only organization working on solving this problem:

EcoSoap partners with 1k+ hotels and has provided 250k+ pounds of soap to children in 10 countries

Diversey, a leading provider of hotel hygiene products, has repurposed 25m bars of soap since 2013

Thanks to these efforts, hotel toiletries that otherwise would’ve ended up in landfills have been given a second use case.

Seipler has seen mothers cry with joy when they’re given soap. The small, commonplace things we often take for granted, he said, can make a world of difference when reallocated.

“I know it sounds funny,” he said, “but that little bar of soap on the counter in your hotel room — that thing can literally save a life.”

This post originally appeared on The Hustle and was published April 22, 2022. This article is republished here with permission.

[bigedred]

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[glowing-disciple]

The weird thing about coffee is how snobbish people can get out of what is really just bean tea.

Take people’s opinions on how to grind whole beans. There’s all sorts of different burr materials, fancy grinders, and opinions about whether electric grinders are better/worse than manual grinders.

Meanwhile I’ve been “grinding” my coffee beans using an old meat tenderizer, and it works great.

[efcaaus]

Enhancing Efficiency in the Food Industry with Food Processing Equipment.

In today's fast-paced world, the demand for processed food is growing rapidly. Businesses in the food industry must continuously adapt to meet consumer demands, and one of the critical factors driving this progress is the use of advanced food processing equipment. These machines are not only vital in enhancing productivity but also in ensuring that food products meet safety and quality standards. In this blog, we will explore the significance of food processing equipment, its benefits, and how businesses can make the most out of their investment.

Importance of Food Processing Equipment

Food processing equipment refers to the machinery and tools used to transform raw ingredients into consumable food products. This equipment includes everything from grinders and mixers to blenders, ovens, and packaging machines. Each piece of equipment plays a critical role in specific stages of food production, ensuring consistency, safety, and quality in the final product.

The importance of food processing equipment lies in its ability to:

Increase efficiency: These machines streamline production, making processes faster and more efficient.

Ensure food safety: Food processing equipment is designed to meet strict hygiene standards, reducing the risk of contamination.

Improve consistency: Automated machinery ensures that every batch of food is processed in the same way, guaranteeing uniformity in texture, flavor, and appearance.

Benefits of Investing in Quality Food Processing Equipment

Investing in high-quality food processing equipment can lead to numerous benefits for food manufacturers. Here are some of the key advantages:

1. Enhanced Productivity

By automating manual tasks, food processing equipment significantly boosts productivity. Machines can process larger quantities of food in a shorter amount of time, allowing businesses to scale production without sacrificing quality. Whether you're grinding meat or mixing dough, the right equipment can optimize these tasks, reducing labor costs and minimizing the chances of human error.

2. Improved Food Safety and Hygiene

The food industry is heavily regulated, and businesses must comply with stringent hygiene standards. Modern food processing equipment is designed with food safety in mind, using stainless steel and other materials that are easy to clean and maintain. These machines help prevent cross-contamination, bacterial growth, and other safety hazards, ensuring that the final product is safe for consumption.

3. Consistent Quality Control

Achieving consistency in food products is essential for building customer loyalty. Food processing equipment enables businesses to produce uniform products, regardless of batch size. Automated systems allow for precise control over cooking times, temperatures, and ingredient mixing, ensuring that every product meets the same high standards.

4. Cost Efficiency

While the initial investment in food processing equipment may seem significant, the long-term cost savings are substantial. Automated machines reduce the need for manual labor, cut down on production time, and minimize material waste. Additionally, these machines are built for durability, ensuring they last for years with proper maintenance.

Key Types of Food Processing Equipment

There are several types of food processing equipment used across different stages of production. Some of the most common include:

Mixers and Blenders: Used to combine ingredients evenly for consistency.

Cutting and Slicing Machines: Ideal for preparing fruits, vegetables, and meats for further processing.

Grinders: Essential for breaking down meat and grains into smaller, uniform sizes.

Heat Processing Equipment: Ovens, grills, and steamers that cook or sterilize food.

Packaging Machines: These are used to package finished products in a safe, hygienic, and efficient manner.

How to Choose the Right Food Processing Equipment

Selecting the right food processing equipment depends on your business's specific needs. Here are a few factors to consider:

1. Production Scale

The size of your operation will determine the type and quantity of equipment you need. For large-scale production, look for industrial-grade machines that can handle high volumes.

2. Compliance with Food Safety Regulations

Ensure that the equipment you choose complies with the relevant food safety standards in your region. This is crucial for maintaining hygiene and avoiding legal issues.

3. Budget

While it’s essential to invest in high-quality machines, be mindful of your budget. Compare different models, their features, and price points before making a decision.

4. After-Sales Support

Choose a supplier that offers excellent after-sales service, including installation, training, and maintenance support. This ensures your equipment remains in optimal condition for the long term.

Conclusion

Food processing equipment plays a vital role in the food industry by enhancing efficiency, improving food safety, and ensuring consistent quality. Whether you’re running a small business or a large-scale food production facility, investing in the right equipment can help you meet customer demands, comply with safety regulations, and grow your business. By carefully selecting the equipment that suits your production needs, you can optimize your operations and ensure long-term success in this competitive market.

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[proprocessor]

Venison Processing Equipment: Essential Tools for Quality Meat

Processing venison at home can be a rewarding endeavor, ensuring quality control and maximizing the value of your hunt. Whether you're a seasoned hunter or new to the game, having the right equipment is crucial for efficient and safe processing. Here’s a guide to essential venison processing equipment that can help you transform your harvest into delicious meals.

1. Butchering Knives

A good set of butchering knives is fundamental for processing venison. Look for:

Boning Knife: A flexible blade that helps separate meat from bones.

Fillet Knife: Ideal for skinning and filleting cuts.

Cleaver: Useful for breaking down larger sections of meat.

Steak Knife: For portioning and trimming.

Tip: Invest in high-quality, stainless-steel knives to ensure durability and ease of sharpening.

2. Meat Grinder

A meat grinder is essential for creating ground venison, perfect for burgers, sausages, and other dishes. When choosing a grinder, consider:

Manual vs. Electric: Electric grinders are faster and easier for larger quantities, while manual grinders are portable and more affordable.

Grinding Plates: Different plate sizes allow for various textures, from coarse to fine.

Tip: Freeze the meat slightly before grinding for better results.

3. Meat Saws

A meat saw is invaluable for cutting through bone and larger cuts of venison. There are two main types:

Hand Saw: A traditional tool that provides control and precision.

Band Saw: A powered option for faster processing, especially useful for larger game.

4. Vacuum Sealer

Proper packaging is key to preserving the quality of venison. A vacuum sealer removes air and prevents freezer burn, extending the shelf life of your meat. Look for:

External Vacuum Sealers: Great for everyday use and smaller batches.

Chamber Vacuum Sealers: Ideal for larger volumes, as they seal liquids and are more efficient.

5. Sausage Stuffer

If you're interested in making sausages from your venison, a sausage stuffer is a must. Consider:

Manual vs. Electric Stuffers: Manual stuffers are often more affordable and portable, while electric models save time and effort.

Variety of Tubes: Different sizes allow for making various sausage types, from bratwurst to summer sausage.

6. Processing Tables

Having a dedicated workspace is important for hygiene and efficiency. A sturdy, easy-to-clean processing table will help you manage the butchering process smoothly. Look for:

Stainless Steel Tables: Durable and resistant to bacteria.

Height Adjustability: Ensures comfort during long processing sessions.

7. Thermometers and Scales

Accurate measurements are vital for ensuring food safety and proper portioning. Invest in:

Meat Thermometer: For checking doneness and safety.

Kitchen Scale: For precise measurements, especially when making sausages or marinating.

8. Cleaning Supplies

Maintaining cleanliness during processing is crucial for food safety. Stock up on:

Food-Safe Sanitizers: To clean all surfaces and equipment.

Disposable Gloves: For hygiene during handling.

Aprons: Protect your clothing and keep the workspace tidy.

Conclusion Investing in the right venison processing equipment can enhance your butchering experience and ensure high-quality results. Whether you're preparing for a hunting season or looking to try your hand at home processing, having the right tools will make the process more enjoyable and efficient. With the right setup, you can turn your venison into a variety of delicious meals, making the most of your hunting efforts. Happy processing!

[roxannepolice]

Shitpost vagueing about Titus Andronicus and Shakespeare cannibalism got me into ranting about how that theme got bastardized in GOT.

Like. In Titus Andronicus, this is the point at which the audience goes into the level of disgust that's so deeply visceral that it's no longer just shock value, it's being exposed to the absolutest fucking taboo there is. You have this feeling - or at least it's not absent from the play, much relies on director's work, but I'd say Titus explicitly describing how he's going to make the pies works in this reading's favour - that you're witnessing the absolute fucking collapse of a human being. Like. This guy didn't just kill his daughter's r*pists and son-in-law's murderers, he actually had this very daughter gather their freaking blood in a vessel, chopped them up, grounded their meat and bones WITH MANUAL TOOLS OF ANCIENT ROME LIKE THOSE GUYS DIDN'T EVEN HAVE FORKS, HE SPENT HOURS DABBLING IN HUMAN REMAINS, MIXED THEM WITH FLOUR, BAKED IT, AND SERVED IT TO THEIR MOTHER. This is some oedipal level of absolutely primordial disgust that's so deeply grotesque you can only giggle nervously or throw up.

But most importantly, this shows the depth of just how fucking desensitised Titus is at this point. Again, we aren't talking murder. We aren't even talking putting the body through a neat grinder or woodchopper, we are talking grounding it with your own fucking hands.

So fuck's sake don't give me the same fucking theme but with the assurance that oh no worries it's a good person that manually grounded two people into pies and fed them to their parent, she would only do that to bad people :)

[brothes]

The Ultimate Guide to Keema Machines: A Perfect Addition to Your Kitchen

Keema, a beloved minced meat dish, holds a special place in various cuisines worldwide. Whether it's for making kebabs, curries, or stuffing for savory pastries, the quality of minced meat plays a crucial role in the flavor and texture of the final dish. Enter the keema machine��an essential kitchen appliance for anyone who loves to cook with minced meat. In this blog, we'll delve into what a keema machine is, how it works, its benefits, and tips for choosing the right one for your kitchen.

What is a Keema Machine? A Keema Machine, also known as a meat grinder, is a kitchen appliance designed to mince or grind meat into fine pieces. This machine is versatile and can be used to grind various types of meat, including beef, chicken, lamb, and more. By using a keema machine, you can control the coarseness of the grind, allowing you to create the perfect texture for your recipes.

How Does a Keema Machine Work? Keema machines come in two main types: manual and electric. While both types serve the same purpose, they differ in how they operate.

Manual Keema Machines: These machines are hand-cranked and require physical effort to grind the meat. The meat is placed in a hopper, and as you turn the handle, the meat is pushed through a set of blades that cut and grind it into smaller pieces. Manual machines are usually more affordable and compact, making them ideal for small kitchens or occasional use.

Electric Keema Machines: Electric machines are powered by a motor, making the grinding process faster and more efficient. You simply place the meat in the hopper, and the machine does the work for you, producing finely ground meat in a matter of seconds. Electric keema machines are perfect for those who frequently prepare large quantities of minced meat or prefer a more convenient and effortless grinding experience.

Benefits of Using a Keema Machine Freshness and Quality Control: One of the primary advantages of using a keema machine is the ability to control the freshness and quality of the meat. When you grind your own meat, you know exactly what goes into it, ensuring that there are no additives, preservatives, or fillers. This is especially important for those who prioritize healthy, clean eating.

Versatility: A keema machine is not limited to grinding meat. Many models come with attachments that allow you to grind vegetables, nuts, and even make pasta or sausages. This versatility makes it a valuable addition to any kitchen, allowing you to experiment with different recipes and culinary techniques.

Cost-Effective: Purchasing pre-packaged minced meat can be more expensive than buying whole cuts of meat and grinding them yourself. Over time, investing in a keema machine can save you money, especially if you regularly cook with minced meat.

Customization: With a keema machine, you can customize the texture of the minced meat to suit your preferences. Whether you prefer a coarse grind for burgers or a fine grind for sausages, you have complete control over the end result.

Tips for Choosing the Right Keema Machine Consider Your Needs: Think about how often you’ll use the machine and the quantity of meat you’ll be grinding. If you only need it occasionally or for small batches, a manual machine might suffice. However, if you plan to use it frequently or for larger quantities, an electric machine would be more practical.

Check the Material and Build Quality: Look for machines made from durable materials like stainless steel, which is resistant to rust and easy to clean. The build quality should be sturdy to withstand regular use.

Look for Additional Attachments: Some keema machines come with additional attachments, such as sausage stuffers, pasta makers, or different grinding plates. These can add versatility to your kitchen and make the machine more valuable.

Ease of Cleaning: Opt for a machine that is easy to disassemble and clean. Proper cleaning is essential for maintaining hygiene and ensuring the machine's longevity.

Conclusion A Keema Machine is a worthwhile investment for anyone who loves cooking with minced meat. It offers freshness, quality control, and versatility, allowing you to create a wide range of dishes with ease. By choosing the right keema machine for your kitchen, you can elevate your culinary creations and enjoy the satisfaction of making delicious, homemade keema every time.