it might be dangerous

[that-clever-oc-deactivated20250]

[posttexasstressdisorder]

[donjuaninhell]

I swear, some of you people somehow manage to possess all of the three most unfortunate character traits someone can have: a) kinda stupid, b) obnoxiously contrarian, c) deeply annoying.

[tockthewatchdog]

stuff you say when you don’t give a fuck about women quite frankly

[cardassiangoodreads]

Hence the not-uncommon adage that the washing machine did even more for women's liberation than the birth control pill

[anarchomikeism]

[ancaporado]

[wageronvoluntaryism]

Never forget what they took from us.

[wageronvoluntaryism]

For those asking how it compares today

[cheese-sample-official]

and also

[bmxpotato]

Mid-year 2026 update (this is without tax):

[slightlyirritable]

Remember this the next time someone argues that raising the minimum wage will raise prices

[bethanyactually]

to be clear, the U.S. federal minimum wage in 1999 was $5.15/hour, so a worker who made the minimum wage could buy the items on that receipt with 41 minutes of work.

in 2026, the federal minumum wage is $7.25, so a worker who makes minimum wage would have to work 95 minutes--more than twice as long--to buy those same items.

[maxknightley]

everyone more pretentious than me is an insufferable poseur and everyone less pretentious than me is a clueless philistine

[maxknightley]

romantic and sexual partner.

[voydhymn]

having many trinkets and books is so cool and fun until you realize you have to dust them

[medievalera]

i have to what

[crabussy]

see I really want a motorbike (they are sexy and cool and fast) but the thing is I really enjoy being alive and I feel like a motorbike might get in the way of the whole “being alive” thing

[batsinmypants]

In the used bookstore smelling the paperbacks like a demented pervert.

[slimegargoyle]

the richard ramirez documentary has many flaws but I’m obsessed with this woman and her take on serial killer groupies 

[pastel-pink-psycho]

[medievalthymes]

my love language is the same as a crow. if you’re nice to me i’ll bring you useless little trinkets from my travels that made me think of you

[1five1two]

'The Scissor Birds'. Jenny Barron.

[ratbastarddotfuck]

in my post abt tumblr's porn ads I said something like "I don't care much about the fact that I'm seeing porn rather than that we as users can't post it but advertisers can". and a few people have reblogged with tags like "I DO care about seeing porn/I don't want to see it and I shouldn't have to/I also don't care but would love not to flashbang people" all of which are true and fair. but friends, colleagues. I put that line in there to keep swerfs away from the post. it is all too easy for anything which is ostensibly complaining about porn to be dragged into that sphere and lauded as proof that the world is porn addicted and degenerate.

I am a porn creator who considers porn & sex a significant part of my artistic expression. when I say I'm not bothered by seeing porn on dash, I mean ideally I would be seeing much more of it from real people. but even if this wasn't the case, I consider the naked body a neutral object to look at - it doesn't disturb me and I am concerned at the amount of people who seem disturbed at seeing any amount of nudity on their screen.

so let me be more explicit. the problem with the porn ads is not the porn, it's the ads. it's the fact that advertisers can post things that users can't. it's the inability to filter out the content because it is an ad and is not beholden to the same TOS or labelling rules as users are. it's the fact that many of the ads are for AI services, showing AI generated skinny white women (further pushing the needle on the extreme fascistic, white supremacist body image issues people are developing) in lieu of paying real life sex workers.

it's cool and fine that you would prefer not to see explicit porn in your day-to-day life. but you need to know that repeatedly, compulsively reinforcing this desire when I'm trying to talk about a problem of capitalism and censorship of expression does in fact position you nearer to the censors than it does to me and other sex workers.

[chekhovs-raygun]

i can't see my mutual's boobs on tumblr. i also can't see a sex worker's boobs on tumblr. but if Age Of Elf War Gambling Scam wants to show me digital elf titty, i will see those titties seventy times in a row, and if i complain i will be told to buy a paid subscription to tumblr.

porn isn't the problem, consent is. advertisers telling us we can't show our tits OR avoid seeing theirs is an incredibly stupid situation to be in.

[stellaluna33]

Several times on here I've seen the take "I know local theater is bad and cringey, but you have to support it anyway!" And while I understand what they're getting at, I'm always like, why do you assume it's going to be "bad" just because the artists are members of your own community? I just saw a local production of The Importance of Being Earnest and it was HILARIOUS. Everyone was DELIGHTFULLY funny and we thoroughly enjoyed it! There have been so many times I've been greatly moved by "amateur" or student art, and if you can't allow yourself to appreciate anything but "the Best" (and who decides what "the Best" is anyway? This production of "Earnest" was way funnier than the version that Judy Dench and Rupert Everett were in, as deservedly "famous" as they might be) then you are just being a joyless snob. There's beauty and talent all around you. And if that makes me "easy to please," then well... That means I'm pleased more often! And why should I want to apologize for that?

[pitviperofdoom]

I try not to fall into the "I never liked their work anyway" ditch when an artist/creator reveals themself to be a terrible person

BUT

a feeling I do have and will stand by is "While I enjoyed their work overall I did have some gripes that I overlooked out of affection and whimsy, but now that my loyalty is gone and my affection tainted there is nothing holding me back from enumerating my many grievances, to which the revelations of the creator's shittiness may or may not provide a new and infuriating context."

[beatrice-otter]

#such a good summation of this actually#because yeah there’s usually things that were always present#but which were easy to overlook or give the benefit of the doubt#that suddenly become relevant after a revelation about the creator#and it’s really not the same thing as the self-defensive “’I never liked it anyway’

tags via chimaerakitten

[pmamtraveller]

Mammal in a Sunday Dress, by Georgina M. Cox, 2026

[originalaccountname]

Mammal in a Sunday Dress explores the uneasy relationship between femininity, civilisation, and the animal body. At first glance, the figure appears modest and withdrawn. Her posture is composed, her gaze seemingly lowered towards her bare feet, recalling the conventions of nineteenth-century portraiture where women were often depicted as passive objects of observation. Yet as the viewer moves closer, the illusion collapses. Her eyes are not lowered at all. She is looking directly back. The delayed eye contact transforms the encounter. The viewer approaches believing they are safely observing a woman; instead, they realise they have been observed themselves. The work refuses the traditional power dynamic of portraiture, denying the comfort of anonymous spectatorship. Looking becomes a reciprocal act. For Cox, the painting considers humanity's persistent desire to separate itself from the rest of the animal kingdom. The title quietly undermines this distinction. A "mammal" is not another creature—it is us. The Sunday dress, rich with cultural associations of femininity, morality, and respectability, becomes an attempt to distinguish ourselves from nature. Yet clothing cannot alter biology. Beneath lace and ritual remains the same vulnerable animal body. The work also reflects on the historical relationship between women and nature. Across art, religion, and philosophy, women have repeatedly been positioned as closer to instinct, emotion, reproduction, and the body itself, while men have been aligned with reason, culture, and civilisation. Mammal in a Sunday Dress does not reject this comparison. Instead, it questions why proximity to nature has so often been treated as something lesser. Chiaroscuro isolates the figure within darkness, allowing the luminous dress to symbolise the performance of civilisation while the bare feet quietly return the body to the earth. Neither is presented as more truthful than the other. The painting exists in the tension between performance and instinct, refinement and biology. Mammal in a Sunday Dress ultimately asks a simple but unsettling question: if every layer of culture were stripped away, what would remain? Not a king. Not a saint. Not a gentleman or a lady. Only another mammal, looking back.

source

[antiquedeuce]

milt (man I love tomatoes)

[disaster-magnet]

I'm one of the few people that genuinely LOVES working customer service (hotel receptionist here), like yes the occasional person is rude and entitled. But most of the time? People are kind, and funny, and will jump at the chance to share a bit of their lives with someone else.

The businessman that comes in every week who seemed grouchy at first now smiles and waves when I remember his name, and explains he's just finished a long drive, and he doesn't MEAN to come off as rude, he's just tired.

The mother and daughter who visit the hotel each summer and tell me they've been coming here for years, and each time they visit they go to the pier and save up their tickets for the big ticket items. One day they come through the doors with the biggest grins, the older lady in the wheelchair proudly waving a huge stuffed toy tiger she's "had her eye on for years".

The young man with his girlfriend who looks nervous as he approaches reception, and stumbles over his words, his hands shaking as he signs the paperwork to check in. I've spent the last two weeks on the phone with him organising this; we've set up the bedroom with balloons and petals and decorations, and he's going to propose as soon as they get to the room.

The woman who I've not seen before who asks if I'm local, and tells me she grew up here, and had recently found herself drawn back. We talk about the sounds of seagulls, and the metal clanging of masts down at the harbour, and how the sounds that fade into the background are the ones you miss most when you leave. She's writing a book and promises to send me a copy when she's done.

The regular who goes out of her way to buy us all the strangest biscuits she can find at the tourist shops. We try them together, pulling faces at the ones that just don't work.

The thirty something woman who immediately sees a kinship in me and whispers to me that she has been here before, but under a name she no longer uses, and we celebrate the freedom she feels.

The support group that comes in for coffee each week and sit together filling the foyer with laughter.

Every single person living their own wonderful complicated rich lives, and I get to be a part of that. How is that not beautiful?