If you scroll pass this you don’t got ten dollars
Need my $10
Guys i literally just got tipped $10 at work
trying on a metaphor
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
dirt enthusiast
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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#extradirty
Mike Driver
KIROKAZE

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
taylor price
DEAR READER

⁂
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Claire Keane
No title available
sheepfilms
Sweet Seals For You, Always
$LAYYYTER
d e v o n
seen from Tunisia
seen from Brazil
seen from Kosovo
seen from Germany

seen from Germany

seen from Spain

seen from United States
seen from Uzbekistan

seen from United States

seen from Venezuela

seen from Jamaica
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@alwaysstandingalone
If you scroll pass this you don’t got ten dollars
Need my $10
Guys i literally just got tipped $10 at work
reblog with your weird group chat name in the tags
today in “youtube’s recommendation algorithm completely misunderstands what i’m interested in”: i am recommended a channel consisting entirely of livestreams of a creepy dude sitting in a corner and just staring at the camera for 4 hours, 3 times a week
a robber broke into his house and he didn’t stop recording and the robber got so creeped out he left. the video is on his YouTube somewhere
https://youtu.be/tmrXakd_r6I?t=9391 here
“This episode of Sitting and Smiling features a very special guest. About 2.5 hours into the webcast, I hear someone come into the house, which is odd, because my only housemate is at work, and we aren’t expecting anyone. I realize I didn’t check to see if the doors were locked before starting the webcast. I hear the person stealthily moving around the house, and then I hear them stealthily climbing the stairs, towards my room. My door opens, and I hear an unfamiliar male voice say “Hello?”. Then, after presumably seeing me sitting still and smiling in front of a camera, lit from beneath by a florescent bulb, he promptly descends the stairs and exits the house.
You can see this happen at 2:36:30
As it turns out, the doors were locked, and he had broken one open. We found nothing missing, as there is not really anything of value in the house other than the laptop I was using to webcast.“
I’m howling
The robber legitimately thinks they just walked into a creepypasta and they made the wise choice of getting the hell out of there
i was on twitter and
it’s arrived
the ultimate shitposting platform
Is… is this real?
absolutely
have fun
so i got a message today from @nattercom and
oh my god
OH MY GOD
SHITPOSTING GAME TOO STRONG
this post was getting notes out of nowhere again so i checked a little and
uh
have you ever shitposted so hard that you not only saved a social media website but it completely rebranded itself bc of your shitpost
SHITPOSTING GAME ULTIMATE
This is so pure?
i prefer guys who make small dick jokes about themselves over guys who make big dick jokes about themselves
I nearly spat out my tea
A friend and I were out with our kids when another family’s two-year-old came up. She began hugging my friend’s 18-month-old, following her around and smiling at her. My friend’s little girl looked like she wasn’t so sure she liked this, and at that moment the other little girl’s mom came up and got down on her little girl’s level to talk to her.
“Honey, can you listen to me for a moment? I’m glad you’ve found a new friend, but you need to make sure to look at her face to see if she likes it when you hug her. And if she doesn’t like it, you need to give her space. Okay?”
Two years old, and already her mother was teaching her about consent.
My daughter Sally likes to color on herself with markers. I tell her it’s her body, so it’s her choice. Sometimes she writes her name, sometimes she draws flowers or patterns. The other day I heard her talking to her brother, a marker in her hand.
“Bobby, do you mind if I color on your leg?”
Bobby smiled and moved himself closer to his sister. She began drawing a pattern on his leg with a marker while he watched, fascinated. Later, she began coloring on the sole of his foot. After each stoke, he pulled his foot back, laughing. I looked over to see what was causing the commotion, and Sally turned to me.
“He doesn’t mind if I do this,” she explained, “he is only moving his foot because it tickles. He thinks its funny.” And she was right. Already Bobby had extended his foot to her again, smiling as he did so.
What I find really fascinating about these two anecdotes is that they both deal with the consent of children not yet old enough to communicate verbally. In both stories, the older child must read the consent of the younger child through nonverbal cues. And even then, consent is not this ambiguous thing that is difficult to understand.
Teaching consent is ongoing, but it starts when children are very young. It involves both teaching children to pay attention to and respect others’ consent (or lack thereof) and teaching children that they should expect their own bodies and their own space to be respected—even by their parents and other relatives.
And if children of two or four can be expected to read the nonverbal cues and expressions of children not yet old enough to talk in order to assess whether there is consent, what excuse do full grown adults have?
I try to do this every day I go to nursery and gosh it makes me so happy to see it done elsewhere.
Yes, consent is nonsexual, too!
Not only that, but one of the reasons many child victims of sexual abuse don’t reach out is that they don’t have the understanding or words for what is happening to them, and why it isn’t okay. Teaching kids about consent helps them build better relationships and gives them the tools to seek help if they or a friend need our protection.
Teaching Consent to Small Children
I wish this post featured the OP’s name more prominently; it’s by Libby Anne of love joy feminism, and she writes fantastic stuff. A survivor of Christian patriarchal fundamentalism, she writes about parenting from the perspective of someone working through her own traumatic experiences. I love reading her blog.
I met my nephew (codename Totoro) in person for the first time when he was eight months old. Before this, I’d known him only through video calling. A few hours after getting home from the airport, my sister (codename Mystery) was holding him on her hip. I asked her, “Can I hold him?”
She smiled and said, “Ask him.”
“What?”
“Hold out your hands to him and see if he leans toward you or away from you.” So I did, and he leaned away, and I dropped the subject. Five or ten minutes later, he was leaning towards me, overbalancing and almost falling out of Mystery’s arms, and she said, “He’s asking you to hold him now.” So I did, and it was magical, getting to introduce myself to my nephew and the firstborn of the Sybil family.
I am all about respecting children’s agencies and teaching good boundaries. I didn’t ask at the airport, when Totoro was surrounded by new stimuli and needed the reassurance of his mother. I didn’t ask when we first got back either; I gave him time to settle down, get used to his surroundings, and get used to me in person instead of a moving picture on a cell phone screen. I thought I was respecting his boundaries. But it had never occurred to me that an eight month old, who couldn’t speak or even understand most speech, might be able to establish his own boundaries.
A year later they came to visit again, when he was 19 or 20 months old. The weather was what we Northwesterners call “a bit nippy” and what thin-blooded Midwesterners like my sister call “fucking freezing, are you kidding me?” As we were getting ready to leave the house, Totoro objected vehemently to the need for pants and a coat. Finally Mystery had me stand by and hand her things as she near-literally wrestled him into his clothes. He was screaming and kicking and saying, “No pants, no no, don’t wanna, no Mama.”
And as she worked, Mystery kept talking to him soothingly. “I can hear you saying no, and I understand that you don’t want to wear your clothes, but it’s my job to keep you safe and warm. I know you’re saying no, I can hear that, but it’s very cold outside and I have to keep you safe and warm.” Over and over, reassuring him that she understood what she wanted and that she had a good reason for ignoring his wishes.
And it hit me all over again, an aspect of respecting children’s agencies and boundaries that had never once occurred to me. Because sometimes it is necessary to override their wishes. Part of being a good guardian is keeping them safe even when they want to play in traffic or eat nothing but candy. But I’d never thought about it from Totoro’s point of view, how frightening and how helpless it would feel to scream “no” into an unhearing void. Mystery made sure he knew he was being heard, he wasn’t being ignored, he was important enough to have people react to his words.
It’s just, geez. Every time I watch Mystery interact with Totoro I learn something new about agency and boundaries and just plain humanness. It blows me away.
HAS ANYONE SEEN THE NEW EPISODE??
Browan asf omg im crying Season 2 Episode 10 “Control” out now for free on Go90.
He’s so in love with her, kill me
Omggg
Browan? Wonderful, beautiful, talented, inspiring, groundbreaking. I thought they were gonna kiss. The banter before he found the yearbook page was so cute.
Simultaneously in pain and over the moon. When Ash and Elisia are really over but Browan is just taking off
You should watch t@gged if you haven’t already :)
I thought the Bermuda Triangle was going to be a bigger problem in my life when I was younger
Reblog if you want Dan and Phil to give Dab his long hair back
Also like if Dab and Evan bring you life.
☁️ Smile ☁️
Dab chuckled softly as he held Evan under him tickling the boy who let out loud adorable sounding giggles, his cheeks pink and his smaller hands trying to get Dab’s larger ones off of him.
Dab stopped tickling the boy and pinned him down, “Give me my fricking DS back, Pancakes,” the black haired boy commanded down at his best friend with a grin.
Evan smiled profusely up at him, there were butterflies erupting in his stomach which he tried his best to ignore. “Okay okay, it’s under my bed,” Dab raises an eyebrow, “Or in the nightstand,” Evan finally admitted.
Dab shakes his head and opens the nightstand, retrieving the red DS, holding it up in the air, “Victory!” Evan giggled slightly and Dab chuckled.
Evan then sat up, pushing Dab off him lightly. Dab somehow fell off the bed. Evan laughed loudly at this and Dab stuck up his middle finger from the floor.
Evan went to the edge of the bed, laying down on his stomach, feet up in the air and swinging.
Dab rose from the floor, looking to Evan with a pout, “Meanie pants,” he could barley hold the pout as he saw Evan’s smile, he thought the boy’s smile was absolutely gorgeous. He smiled softly.
Evan seemed to hesitate a little, a slight pink coming to his cheeks. He wanted to tell the boy about the butterflies he got in his stomach when he looked at him, how he couldn’t help but smile every time he looked at him. How he could make him blush with the simplest gestures. How he wanted to be the one he held close at night.
“H-Hey Dab, can I tell you something..?”
“Anything,” Dab assured softly.
He couldn’t bring himself to say it, “You have a really nice smile.”
“Really? I think yours is better.”
OmG My HEaRt
Dab and Evan are so cute I want them to be best buddies and then when they become teenagers slowly fall in love with each other. What’s their shipping name, thought? Devan? Davan? I ship it and I can’t wait to write and read some wholesome fan fiction about them.
Dab and Evan as children and teenagers. Sorry I can’t stay out