welcome to my blog im annoying

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@bug-hole
welcome to my blog im annoying
I don't read as much fic as I used to but one "tell" for non Canadians writing us, besides the etransfer, is the units you use to describe us measuring something. I hate to tell you this but The Chart is real and it's completely subconscious. Please abide
ETA the chart (or at least a version of it):
ETA2: we do use inches/miles in poetic ways ("he was lost in thought/miles away" or "his lips were a bare inch away").
Also, the length of a dick is in inches for SURE.
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words of wisdom from wikipedia this evening
much to consider
before someone screenshots this and posts it elsewhere this is me
PREV TRUTH NUKE
Well, they announced recently in a press conference that theyre going to beat me to death with sticks today, but I think its important to recognize that they are taking measured solutions, they could have shot me with guns or exploded be with dynamite, but they chose sticks. That shows restraint. We need that, now, more than ever.
I'M LOGGING OUT FUCK ALLLLLL OF YOU (immediately sheepish) I didn't mean that. I hope the sun shines on all of you and you bloom like awesome flowers
Sacrifice for human kind
Once when I was in undergrad, someone described something as āproblematicā in class and our professor was like, āThatās cool, but āproblematicā doesnāt really mean anything. It means that the thing youāre describing has a problem, and in and of itself thatās not bad. Art, especially, should always have problems, or else itās not interesting and not art, either. It sounds like youāre trying to say that this is bad, but you donāt want to say ābad.ā Is that right?ā
So from then on whenever one of us called something problematic, he would make us talk it out until we could name the ābadā thing we were hinting at. In this particular class, 7/10 it was some type of oppression, and the remainder was like, āIām uncomfortable because this is very new/confusing/pushing boundaries that made me feel safe.ā
Once we stopped calling things āproblematicā and stopping at that, class got way more interesting and... we all had to say, like, āthatās racistā or āthatās misogynisticā or āew capitalism grossā out loud, which a lot of us had never done in a classroom before. Or we had to be like, āUhhh... Iām not sure whatās so bad?ā and confront our own beliefs and that was maybe even more useful.
Anyway. Whenever I see the word problematic, I canāt help but think of this professor being like, āGood starting point, now letās get specific.ā I think when we have to commit to saying āthatās ___ā it requires a lot more careful thought about the truth and impact and complexities of whatever weāre claiming. Sometimes there really is some bullshit afoot, and also sometimes itās art, and it should be full of problems, because thatās what art is.
Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.
At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and itās not to watch the shoppers. See, we canāt actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.
At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didnāt exist in my household. Itās normal now. Here is something that is not for me.
āWhat the hell, Iāll take another,ā says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.
The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.
I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. Heās not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. Heās not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadnāt spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldnāt have spent any. I go home. I donāt own a watch.
I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.
I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.Ā
Iām not worth the cost of a watch.
i wrote this while i was working at orlandoās walt disney world parks.
i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.
as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.
disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (ācast membersā) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even āfaceā characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.
at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.
i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.
i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.
we are both worth more than the watch, anyway.
top 3 hobbies for young adults:
1. borrowing misery from future
2. carrying grief of the past
3. agonizing over the present
in absolute tears about the pride module at my work
HOLY SHIT GUYS, I WAS INSPIRED BY THIS POST TO TRY MAKE THE SONG AND YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I DRAGGED THE TRAINING AUDIO OVER THE BACKING TRACK AND IT LINED UP PERFECTLY
Tempted to actually put this on spotify so I can secretly stream it at work...
Tagging @batshit-auspol because as an Australian you're the only big account I know who might share (sorry).
happy first day of pride everyone