so embarrassing when i forget im checking someone’s blog and i start scrolling through and liking and reblogging shit as if it’s just my dash. it feels like wandering into someone else’s apartment and not noticing and making myself lunch
reblog if i can wander into your apartment (blog) and make myself lunch (like and reblog as if it’s my dash)
consider the sperm whale and the squid. an ancient rivalry that dates back millions of years. we know the whales eat the squids. we know the squids do not make it easy for them. we know this because of the scars the whales carry, scars on the outside of their body, and on the inside as well. how badly must you want something to endure wounds inside your mouth? inside your gut?
consider the whale, who is harmed by what sustains her. consider the squid, whose flesh is soft and delicious but refuses to go down easy.
This post is about lactose intolerance I can smell it.
A day late, but posting a story of when we first got married to celebrate our anniversary:
The thing about having an autistic husband, is as much as I love him, he just is not capable of picking up on behaviors or facial expressions and knowing what they mean. He needs me to speak the words I’m feeling.
Early on, this was a problem. When I was exhausted after work and didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with anything, I needed some time alone.
I would say “I’m tired,” get up and leave a room.
He’d follow.
I would shut a door.
He would open it, and keep talking to me.
I had to actually speak the words, “I would like a little bit of space for a while.”
And then he would say, “Oh.” In a sad voice.
And then I’d feel like an asshole, because he always seemed so sad when I did that. I didn’t want to hurt him. I loved him, and I thought I was a bad wife for wanting time for myself. Things were not good.
One day, I came home, and on my desk was a card, laminated. It was simple, black text on white background, in 36-point font. It said:
I love you. Fuck off.
And he took my hands and said the reason he was sad wasn’t that I needed space— he needs his sometimes too, but I pick up the signals and leave him alone.
He felt bad that he couldn’t understand me, and I always looked so uncomfortable and guilty when I told him.
So now I have a card that I can hand to him, any time, and he will understand and go away for an hour and nobody feels guilty.
I read the thread and what isn’t clear from one tweet that this 9yr old was reffing an adult women’s league, not a children’s league. And that woman who argued with said child ref was a player not a mom.
I think one of the most frustrating things about modern conservatives is when they hate something for the wrong reason. And then you have to defend something you also hate.
“I hate Disney!” “Yes, their view on labor has been…” “Because of their woke garbage movies!” “Oh.”
“I am sick of these Disney remakes!” “Yeah, it would be nice if they focused on creating original IPs instead of copy/paste remakes of animated classics.” “They cast a black mermaid!” “Oh.”
“Facebook is evil!” “Yeah, selling user data without consent was…” “They deleted my post about whites being replaced!” “Oh.”
The Ring: If I had a quarter for every time a hobbit picked me up, I’d have two quarters. The Ring: Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.
Of all the bearers of Sauron’s ring, 4 of them were hobbits.
I was wrong. It’s 5. Not 4
The lineage of ring bearers is as follows.
Sauron.
Isildur
Deagol
Sméagol
Bilbo
Frodo
Samwise
I love how Deagol counts as a ring bearer even though he had it in his possession for all of like five seconds
He held it for the rest of of his life!
[Image description: Tweet by @banalplay saying “but something happened then that the ring did not intend. it was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a hobbit, the same fuckin thing that just had it for like 500 years.” End Image Description.] Link to original here. Otherwise reblogging for the final rb there, which made me cackle.
From the ring’s perspective:
1. Home, the finger of my creator and other self.
2. Well, I don’t like it but I can work with this. Cause some trouble, get some revenge, find my way home, this is fine.
3. What the fuck is you?
4. Right personality, wrong species, I don’t know what you are but I hate you and I don’t know why you’re so resistant to my powers.
5. NO NO NO there are goblins everywhere how did I find another one of THESE horrible things. This one’s even more resistant than the last one and also disgustingly nice. I suffer.
6. Listen, I’ll cooperate, just get me the fuck out of this hellhole full of small cheerful people my power doesn’t work on properly. No, not like that. I hate you. Please stop.
7. FUCK
8. (Frodo again) I still hate you with every molecule of my mortal form but at least you’re not number seven. Think I’m starting to get through finally.
9. (Smeagol again) YES it’s you I actually missed you now get me back to the Master and NO FUCK NO I HATE YOOOOUUUUU…. *fzt*
you CHAIN The One Ring?! you chain it like the prisoner?! oh! OH! trauma! deep psychological trauma for hobbits for One Thousand Years!
