men and women are literally the same but unfortunately everyone's crazy so we are forced to pretend they're different in some ways.
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Not today Justin

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@bisexualjigsaw
men and women are literally the same but unfortunately everyone's crazy so we are forced to pretend they're different in some ways.
NOOO GAY PEOPLE STOP EXISTING AGAIN TOMORROW
well. see you all nxt yr ig😔
GAY PEOPLE ARE YOU READY TO EXIST AGAIN!!!!!
The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.
Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.
So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.
Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.
oh shit
As the OP of this post, I’m going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.
I know it feels like a lot but I really believe we can do it 20k notes per day isn’t that hard to do?
Losing My Best Friend to My Ex-Boyfriend
An act of betrayal leads a writer to ponder what it means to end a friendship
By HANNAH HORVATH
Jessa always refused to use the words "best friend." I long feared her reticence masked a reluctance to fully welcome me into her life. That, in her eyes, I might be somehow unworthy of the love, praise, and hugs that I so eagerly bestowed upon her. She nurtured all of my insecurities, allowing them to fester, then grow.
I realize now, with the benefit of the wisdom that can only come once you've lived as long a twenty-seven years as I have, that this was probably my favorite thing about her.
Adam always refused to use the word "boyfriend." He courted me for months. His method involved me inviting myself over to his apartment, where we'd have weird sex that never quite satisfied me. He was, and remains, the only person I've ever truly loved.
But I realize now that what initially attracted me to him were the same things that attracted me to her.
So perhaps it should come as no surprise that Adam and Jessa are in love with each other.
Adam finally agreed to be my boyfriend on a sticky hot night in the summer of 2012. I fell off his bicycle and he told me everything about him. Things I didn't know because, as he reminded me, I never asked. He loved books. He was an alcoholic. He owned pants.
Is was the same night that Jessa met Adam for the first time. "He does look like the original man," I recall her saying.
I met Jessa for the first time on the campus of Oberlin College in the fall of 2006. I chased her around Northern Ohio for seven months before a heroin addiction landed her in rehab. She wouldn't return to school.
She had no Facebook or MySpace even though it was 2006. She didn't understand text messaging either. "Word alerts," she called them. We kept in touch on the phone. She'd call me at all hours of the night. She'd wake me up and I'd pretend that I wasn't asleep. I loved hearing her (possibly fake, likely exaggerated) British accented voice in my ear as I listened with wonder. She'd drone on about whatever guy had fallen in love with her or whatever country she was in that day. [...] She disappeared as quickly as she had from Oberlin, stranding me at her father's house Upstate. She'd end up in rehab again.
In her absence, I fell apart. My long-dormant Obsessive Compulsive Disorder was back and in a big, big, big, big, big, big, big, big way. I needed Jessa, though what aide she might have been able to provide remains unclear.
Adam was there. He came running. Literally, running shirtless through the streets of Brooklyn to my door in Greenpoint.
Our relationship began again in earnest. A few months later, I got a phone call in the middle of the night. It was the same person who always called me in the middle of the night.
[...]
We broke up, and after a few months, Adam wants to get back together. I said no. I started dating a co-worker.
Some time between then and when we broke up, Adam and Jessa kissed for the first time, had sex for the first time, told each other for the first time - things I might not even know about. They fell in love.
Maybe they are better for each other than I ever was for either of them. Their addictions are to substances, but mine are to people like them. People whose behavior confirms my darkest fears about myself. People who give me an excuse not to be happy.
My story is a simple tale of jealousy. Or, of beating jealousy back like in the medieval dragon it is. In this story, I am Viggo Mortensen in "Lord of the Rings," and jealousy is powerless against my sword.
And this begins the way all stories of jealousy do... all great stories of jealousy... which is with my ex-boyfriend and my best friend fucking. And this is not just any best friend. This is the best friend who I would say looks like Brigitte Bardot had a baby with a mermaid. She literally had an open fungal sore on her face and Matthew Perry still asked her out.
So, um, I guess I'm not what you would describe as, like, a chill girl. I'm not like a cool, relaxed lady. Like, you would never meet me and be like, "That Hannah, she really goes with the flow like a funky youth." You would be like, "Has she snorted Adderall in the last 60 minutes?"
So when I found out about my ex-boyfriend and my best friend, um, I was weirdly calm, considering that fact. Frozen, even, you know? I tried to imagine all these horrible things, like him licking her elephant tramp stamp and sucking her tiny tit while she cupped his balls and then he sucked on her lip, which is shaped like a rosebud.
And I tried to get myself really worked up and just imagine all this horrible stuff on a loop, but the fact is that I wasn't angry, I was sad. I was sad about what I thought they knew I was. I thought they were sitting there going like, "Oh, God, Hannah's freaking out. She's gonna kill a cat and she's gonna nail it to our door. She's going to cry so hard that all of Greenpoint fills with tears and it's like fuckin' Waterworld."
And you know what? They weren't wrong. I had to fight really, really hard not to be that girl. And it wasn't easy. I thought about, um, throwing a bike through his window, but, A, he lives on the third floor. I have very poor upper body strength. And, B, he probably would have appreciated it and been like, "Thanks for the bike."
I thought about sending her a text that said, "How does the wind feel caressing your two faces, young lady?" But instead I sat and cried and thought and ate and wrote and masturbated thinking about Chris Farley, which is a thing from my childhood that I haven't fully worked through yet.
But when I heard tonight's theme was jealousy, I knew that I needed an end to my story, a real end, and that end came about 20 minutes before I arrived here when I delivered a very nice and not at all cheap fruit basket to his door, along with a note that said, "Good luck. I mean it sincerely. In perpetuity, Hannah."
'Cause that's the fact, you know? I'm Hannah forever. No matter what I do, no matter whether I, you know, start a new nuclear missile crisis with my emotions or just sit back and chill and give someone a fruit basket. I can only control the mayhem that I create around me.
But the crazy thing is that when I showed up, I heard screaming and I heard my name and I heard madness, and I knew that I was free, at least for tonight. That's all. Thank you.
90% of my drawings are done while watching whatever is going on between these two freaks
i’m having an edging party but none of you can come
Only day you can reblog this
this has been scheduled since last month
today
All the days you can reblog this for the next 10 years:
November 26 2023
May 26 2024
January 26 2025
October 26 2025
April 26 2026
July 26 2026
September 26 2027
December 26 2027
March 26 2028
November 26 2028
August 26 2029
May 26 2030
January 26 2031
October 26 2031
September 26 2032
December 26 2032
June 26 2033
Happy Sunday the 26th
self-compassion: an antidote to shame mb
it’s 2028. trump is dead. elon is dead. zuckerberg is dead bezos is dead they’re all dead
Like to charge reblog to cast
You're obsessed with the rotting bloated corpse. It's like your Jungkook. Embarassing!
Tsundere this, yandere that. I'm a wandere. You took your eyes off me for two seconds and I've already fucked off. Saw something cool glint on the other side of the continent and I'm on my way to check it out.
Copyright class actions could financially ruin AI industry, trade groups say.
AI industry groups are urging an appeals court to block what they say is the largest copyright class action ever certified. They’ve warned that a single lawsuit raised by three authors over Anthropic’s AI training now threatens to “financially ruin” the entire AI industry if up to 7 million claimants end up joining the litigation and forcing a settlement.
well…darn
like to charge reblog to cast financial ruin of the AI industry 🔮
originally posted August 8th, 2025.
Authors have until March 30th, 2026 (That is just 9 days as of this reblog, which I am posting on March 21st, 2026) to file their claim against Anthropic to be reimbursed up to $3,000 per work found in the list.
Updated February 18, 2026 IMPORTANT: The Claims Deadline Is March 30 Background Bartz v. Anthropic is one of the major copyright lawsuits b
Please click the above link for all of the exact details of how to file a claim and to check for your works, and share this post as far and wide as you can before March 30th, 2026!
!!!SIGNAL BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST!!!
His, but yes.
hello fellow artists. google has fallen. pinterest/duckduckgo AI filters don't work. do not despair; here is a list i made of places to find reference images without having to sift through piles of worthless garbage. (for future editing convenience i am just linking my blog post on dreamwidth.)
✨ good places to find art reference that are not full of AI trash 🌈
and of course, as thousands of tehranis develop cancers and autoimmune diseases or come into the world with preventable birth defects in the coming years, die and are disabled en masse, the effects rippling outward to their dependents and loved ones, because today there is black smoke cloaking the city and chemical rain coating the ground—will this tally be figured into the many murders of the united states, or will it be swept away like millions others? i am angry.
My friend Mohammed, his daughter Mona, and their whole family are currently trying to escape Gaza as the opportunity to do so presents itself again.
As time goes on and people continue to doubt the legitimacy of Gazan fundraisers, I must reaffirm that I know Mohammed personally, and have been in close communication with him for over a year. If nothing else, I can offer a picture of Mona by the tent they've been able to afford with previous donations.
Thank you to everyone who has supported. Please, if you can, continue to support Mohammed and Mona. Even just reblogging this post would be a great help
Click here to support.