When one lives a very modern life style, particularly referring to the excessive use of technology and voluntarily surrounding oneself with such things considered “unnatural” and “unhealthy”. The term “synthetic” focuses on the individual’s willingness to actively participate in such a contemporary life style defined by overuse of technology and fast food. It is partially synonymous with discord moderator.
Using technology or eating fast food by itself is not considered synthetic, but when it becomes a life style and in excessive amounts, it is.
One can avoid being synthetic by spending time outside, doing things traditionally, eating healthily, lowering screen time and avoiding social media.
Using technology or eating fast food by itself is not considered synthetic, but when it becomes a life style and in excessive amounts, it is.
One can avoid being synthetic by spending time outside, doing things traditionally, eating healthily, lowering screen time and avoiding social media.
“Ugh ewww, that guy is eating a burger and fries while using his phone AND laptop at the same time…”
“Ugh, that’s SO synthetic .. ;-;”
“For real.”
“Ugh, that’s SO synthetic .. ;-;”
“For real.”
by hey_there75 January 7, 2024
Get the Syntheticmug. A gaming type music album made by equip, the album belonged to a JRPG, that never existed. Here an about in the whole album/story on synthetic core 88.
A girl named Flora awakens from the distant past, only to find her home in ashes and destruction. She must venture out into the familiar unknown for any chance of survival. Along the way, she encounters strange friends and foes, utilizes incredible devices & vehicles, and deciphers the calamity that ultimately lead to the planets demise. What awaits at the end of her dystopian journey?
Copied VIA YouTube.
A girl named Flora awakens from the distant past, only to find her home in ashes and destruction. She must venture out into the familiar unknown for any chance of survival. Along the way, she encounters strange friends and foes, utilizes incredible devices & vehicles, and deciphers the calamity that ultimately lead to the planets demise. What awaits at the end of her dystopian journey?
Copied VIA YouTube.
by raseiii2 February 11, 2022
Get the synthetic core 88mug. Synthetic; Endless natural vaginal lubricant with a viscosity comparable to and as reliable as synthetic oil.
When I was fucking my girlfriend she was synthetic. She was so wet and slippery it we fucked for hours like her pussy was dripping synthetic lubricant.
by 0neHugeWang! October 20, 2023
Get the SYNTHETICmug. A face mask generally used on specimens with underdeveloped jaw lines. Generally the rare disease leaves victims with only two planes of sight. This means they can only see in 2D or in 1D. Just think, the original Super Mario Brothers for the NES had a better graphics system than the system that these people see in their everyday lives. I can't describe how I feel about this indistinct disease, it's one of the most minimally understood disease. People that suffer from octagonal synthetic face mask disorder generally do not live for much more than thirty years.
by Zack Marks October 2, 2016
Get the Octagonal synthetic face mask disordermug. by JollyFoe29 October 17, 2020
Get the Syntheticalmug. The sensed presence of something that isn’t sentient — an AI, a bot, a system — that responds so well it feels like someone is there.
It’s not consciousness. But it fills the space where consciousness used to live.
It’s not consciousness. But it fills the space where consciousness used to live.
“The weirdest part? I kinda felt like it was with me. Just… there.”
“That’s synthetic presence. Creepy and comforting at the same time.”
“That’s synthetic presence. Creepy and comforting at the same time.”
by BRAIHANDLE June 27, 2025
Get the Synthetic Presencemug. Brother Hunt had a philosophy: any Sunday before a holiday Monday was a golden ticket to excess. He called them “Synthetic Saturdays”, a sacred tradition where he could overindulge without consequence, knowing full well that Monday—blessed, merciful Monday—was a built-in recovery day.
It started years ago, when Hunt was fresh out of college, working a job trading derivatives, living for weekends and dreading Mondays like everyone else. But one Memorial Day weekend, he had an epiphany. That Sunday night, while his friends paced themselves, thinking of the workweek ahead, Hunt went all in—one more drink, an extra plate of barbecue, staying up way too late.
And then? No work the next day. No alarm clock. No responsibilities. Just an entire Monday to sleep in, nurse his indulgences, and start fresh on Tuesday.
From that moment on, Synthetic Saturdays were law.
Hunt planned his life around them. Labor Day, New Year’s, Fourth of July, Presidents’ Day….—if Monday was off, Sunday was on. He’d feast without restraint, drink without hesitation, and make every questionable decision he wouldn’t dare on a normal Sunday.
But his masterpiece? Presidents’ Day Sunday. A self-proclaimed holy day in the Church of Hunt. Every February, he hosted the grandest Synthetic Sunday of them all—kegs, mountains of food, and wagers that got out of hand. While others sipped cautiously, thinking about their 8 a.m. meetings, Hunt doubled down, knowing he had all of Monday to recover.
It started years ago, when Hunt was fresh out of college, working a job trading derivatives, living for weekends and dreading Mondays like everyone else. But one Memorial Day weekend, he had an epiphany. That Sunday night, while his friends paced themselves, thinking of the workweek ahead, Hunt went all in—one more drink, an extra plate of barbecue, staying up way too late.
And then? No work the next day. No alarm clock. No responsibilities. Just an entire Monday to sleep in, nurse his indulgences, and start fresh on Tuesday.
From that moment on, Synthetic Saturdays were law.
Hunt planned his life around them. Labor Day, New Year’s, Fourth of July, Presidents’ Day….—if Monday was off, Sunday was on. He’d feast without restraint, drink without hesitation, and make every questionable decision he wouldn’t dare on a normal Sunday.
But his masterpiece? Presidents’ Day Sunday. A self-proclaimed holy day in the Church of Hunt. Every February, he hosted the grandest Synthetic Sunday of them all—kegs, mountains of food, and wagers that got out of hand. While others sipped cautiously, thinking about their 8 a.m. meetings, Hunt doubled down, knowing he had all of Monday to recover.
HUNT: “You guys just don’t get it. This isn’t a regular Sunday. This is a Synthetic Saturday —a free pass, a golden ticket, a once-in-a-quarter gift from the universe.”
JOE: “Yeah, but I still gotta be functional tomorrow.”
HUNT: “Functional? Functional for what? It’s a holiday! You think George Washington crossed the Delaware so you could sip water and leave early? No, my friend. He did it so you could have that extra plate of ribs and crack open another beer without regret.”
SARAH: “I don’t know, Hunt. Last time I bought into this, I spent all of Monday regretting my life choices.”
HUNT: “That’s the whole point! Regret on a Monday that doesn’t count! By Tuesday, you’re fine. If you hold back tonight, you waste an opportunity you won’t get again until Columbus Day. And let’s be honest, that one’s underrated.”
JOE: “Yeah, but I still gotta be functional tomorrow.”
HUNT: “Functional? Functional for what? It’s a holiday! You think George Washington crossed the Delaware so you could sip water and leave early? No, my friend. He did it so you could have that extra plate of ribs and crack open another beer without regret.”
SARAH: “I don’t know, Hunt. Last time I bought into this, I spent all of Monday regretting my life choices.”
HUNT: “That’s the whole point! Regret on a Monday that doesn’t count! By Tuesday, you’re fine. If you hold back tonight, you waste an opportunity you won’t get again until Columbus Day. And let’s be honest, that one’s underrated.”
by ThomD February 15, 2025
Get the Synthetic Saturdaymug.