vintage Italian "Fazzoletto" (handkerchief) low table from the late 1970s or early 1980s.
Cosimo Galluzzi

oozey mess
Stranger Things

Kiana Khansmith

JBB: An Artblog!

JVL
NASA
One Nice Bug Per Day

@theartofmadeline
Peter Solarz

shark vs the universe
Game of Thrones Daily
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Sade Olutola
h
will byers stan first human second
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
almost home
KIROKAZE

★

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@iwas19
vintage Italian "Fazzoletto" (handkerchief) low table from the late 1970s or early 1980s.
a funny thing about having conversations with people within institutions (academic in this case but also others) about gatekeeping, is that you end up having a conversation over and over in which you're like, "hey this alligator spike pit moat you have erected around your institution is keeping a lot of people out," and they're like, "well *I* navigated the alligator spike pit moat just fine," and you're like, "right. by dint of us having this conversation, you within the institution and me without, it is understood that you navigated the alligator spike pit moat. due to that being an inherent requirement of entering the institution," and they're like, "I don't think you understand the prestigious history of our alligator spike pit moat," and you're like, "is there a reason why there needs to be an alligator spike pit moat encircling the concept of higher education?" and they're like, "look, the alligator spike pit moat isn't for everyone. some people just aren't cut out for the alligator spike pit moat :)" and you're like, "right, yeah, like disabled people and people coming from poverty or unstable home environments or underserved communities or people dealing with difficult to navigate life events like pregnancy or abuse or prison or addiction or the death of a loved one, for example" and they're like, "how dare you imply that we are keeping those people out on purpose. it's their own problem if they can't wrestle the alligators and avoid the spikes while also disabled and/or poor and/or pregnant etc" and you're like, "well that seems evil," and they're like, "it sounds like maybe you're just bitter about the alligator spike pit moat because of your totally random individual experience with ONE bad alligator spike pit moat. have you considered therapy?" and you're like, "did you know that there's some patterns here in terms of how y'all are handling this stuff?" and they're like, "actually yes. we even have a department of alligator spike pit studies :)" and you're like, "that's great, how do I get access to and participate in those conversations?" and they're like, "well firstly you must cross the alligator spike pit moat"
if you can document that you have a medical condition that might make it challenging for you to navigate the alligator spike pit moat, they'll give you an extra 20 minutes to complete your navigation of the alligator spike pit moat
IMPORTANT: any injuries incurred as a result of navigating the alligator spike pit moat will be the sole responsibility of the injured parties. once you leave, the people who made you navigate the alligator spike pit moat and the institution that installed the alligator spike pit moat will never contact you again. except sometimes to ask you for more money.
hope gangloff
I am so sick and tired of having to charge stuff every day of my miserable life!! My phone, my watch, my headphones, my vibrator, my backup vibrator, my emergency vibrator, the ancient cursed amulet of darkness that whispers to me....it's too much!!!
i should've locked in when i was thirteen
When I’m reading a smut fic and tryna figure out what position they’re in
I kind of miss the impulsivity that certain spaces used to allow. oh you want a hair cut today? hairdresser in the corner can fit you in before her 2 o’clock. tattoo of a cobra… sure leg or arm? even concerts, back when you could go to the box office thirty mins before any show. not saying these things don’t exist at all, but everything feels booked five months in advance and 10x more expensive
remember that pride is still a protest
It’s just me and my stupid clit against the fucking world
touch water (touch grass for people who like swimming)
Cattle sale, Nixon, Nevada, 1940
Alma Lavenson