Probably because he’s written it in English.

I think gherkins from cold, dead hands might be considered a delicacy somewhere.

Yeah after writing it I sort of realised I was pointing out the joke, but we’re here now.

One thing I find funny about the original meme is that the hands are just dirty and manly, like you can’t see any calluses or cuts or whatever, so it’s like a hand shibboleth.

Not many situations where you can use the phrase “I’ve often been born”.

I think I’ve met like four people in my life who wouldn’t get this joke.

What part of “one must imagine Sisyphus happy” isn’t clear? You’ve got to do it!

I usually say 10° but the threshold often strays a bit lower. Yeah, not much hiking to be done around here, ha, actually I’ve just been travelling somewhere a bit further south and I looked out the window and said “hills! I remember these!”

I come from the north; anything above 20° and I graduate to the shorter shorts.

I used to laugh at that little boy who said shorts are comfy and easy to wear, but by God was he right about it.

I’ve had to do it twice in my life, and I cut the hair with scissors first then used a cheap razor much like these: https://www.voordeeldrogisterij.nl/premium-laser-twin-wegwerpscheermes-10-stuks.html?id=272026839 Came off painlessly.

Undergoing severe semantic satiation here lads.

I looked up “veridian” and found out it’s spelt “viridian” so maybe that’s the true Mandela effect at play here!

I’m fairly good at thinking up insulting nicknames, but I only ever give them to people above me in the work hierarchy. A boss where I currently work is called Jan, and he’s always fucking whinging about one thing or another, so I call him Jankerd (crybaby). A boss I had last year was called Onno, and he was fucking disorganised, so I called him Onnoverzichtelijk (disorganised). One of the managers there was a fucking idiot but he always walked around like the cock of the walk, so I called him Schaakduif (chess pigeon). His name was Abel so I’d also call him Incapabel. There was a lad there called Pepijn who I called Hoofdpijn (headache) for a laugh once or twice. You have to make your fun where you can, sometimes.

Ah, then you might be thinking of vermillion, which is an orangey red.

God, and you’re a full-blown adult now, fuck me.

You see these fairly often in Amsterdam; half of them are driven by the elderly and disabled and the other half are driven by burgeoning adult daughters of the rich as some bizarre fashion statement. There’s a local company too called Heen & Weer (which means “there and back” or “back and forth”) who taxi the elderly and disabled in one of these for €1 a go, which is a splendid, splendid idea.

I was born in northern England in the early 90s, and I can only eyeball in imperial units, even though I now live in a country where they only use metric (and Beaufort).

No mention of viridian, a blueish green, in these comments, I see.