Allycat/Kitten @kitten-candi - Tumblr Blog

It takes the right person and the right circumstances for it to work, but I can break so easy when someone is condescending to me. Maybe I've been bratting, maybe I'm just shy. It doesn't matter, does it? Because you see right through my act. You know me better than I know myself. "Nice try." Voice dripping with disdain, arms crossed. "It's cute how you think I'm gonna take this from a dumb mutt. No no no, don't talk. Listen to your betters." And I'm struck silent, face red.

"Aww, poor puppy can't even talk anymore. It just wants to be good for me." As I'm so lightheaded I can barely focus. It's not a question. But I nod, and lean into your touch, and let you push me to my knees. It's worse when you notice. "Ha, that's all it took? You're so fucking easy. Gonna just let me use you like this? Where did I find such a pathetic fucking puppy?" Fucking my face casually as you talk, your hands laced in my hair. "Make more of those slutty sounds for me. Yeah, good boy..."

pup-jpg

Big fan of body writing. Something about being seen and labelled like an object..

"cum here" above your holes--helpfully labelled with "puppy parts" next to it, so everyone knows what kind of pathetic mutt you are.

Tally marks below that.

"slut". "cocksleeve". "toy". So people know what to refer to you as.

"use me" and "bite me" and the like. It's an open invitation--no need to even ask.

Hearts and stars where I've marked you.

And, right on your chest, "property of owner". Because everyone knows you're mine.

Better be careful puppy, because that's not washing off for a few days. Hope your shirt doesn't ride up too far, or your shorts aren't too short, lest everyone find out what a whore you really are underneath those clothes.

homunculus-argument

Imagine if you met someone who can't eat watermelon. Not that they're allergic or unable somehow, but they just haven't figured out how to do that. So you're like "what the hell do you mean? it works just like eating anything else, you open your mouth, sink your teeth in, take a bite and chew. If you can bite, chew and swallow, you should be able to eat a watermelon."

And they agree that yes, they do know how to eat, in theory. The problem is the watermelon. Surely, if they figured out where to start, they'd figure out how to do it, but they have no clue how to get started with it.

This goes back and forth. No, it's not an emotional issue, they're not afraid of the watermelon. They can eat any other fruit, other sweet things, and other watery things ("it's watery?" they ask you). Is it the colour? Do they have a problem eating things that are green on the outside and red on the inside?

"It's red on the inside?"

Wait, they've never seen the inside? At this point you have to ask them how, exactly, they eat the watermelon. So to demonstrate, they take a whole, round, uncut watermelon, and try to bite straight into it. Even if they could bite through the crust, there's no way to get human jaws around it.

"Oh, you're supposed to cut it first. You cut the crust open and only chew through the insides."

And they had no idea. All their life this person has had no idea how to eat a watermelon, despite of being told again and again and again that it's easy, it's ridiculous to struggle with something so simple, there's no way that someone just can't eat a watermelon, how can you even mange to be bad at something as fucking simple as eating watermelon.

If someone can't do something after being repeatedly told to "just do it", there might be some key component missing that one side has no idea about, and the other side assumed was so obvious it goes without mention.

therainstheyaredropping

Yep.

https://drmaciver.substack.com/p/how-to-do-everything had a nice list of additional examples like this, with (non-)obvious major insights with regard to opening stitched bags, cleaning your bathroom floor, using a search engine, catching a ball, pinging somebody, proving a theorem, playing sudoku, passing as “normal”, improving your writing, generating novel ideas, and solving your problem.

If you’d asked me six months ago how to get better at something, I’d probably have pointed you to how to do hard things. I still think this is a good approach and you should do it, but I now think it’s the wrong starting point and I’ve been undervaluing small insights. [...]

I think my revised belief is that if you are stuck at how to get better at something, spend a little while assuming there’s just some trick to it you’ve missed. You can try to generate the trick yourself, but it’s probably easier to learn it by observing someone else being good at the thing, asking them some questions, and seeing if you have any lightbulb moment.

hergan416

My fiance played the clarinet when he was in school. When he was first learning to play, he rented an instrument from the school to learn on. He was the last chair clarinet, had been for years, because he could not make notes that required the register key. For years, they kept making him do embrature exercises and he started to get a few notes, with lots of effort. Eventually he had to get private lessons to stay in band.

Every time he tells me this story, his frustration by this point in the story, years later, is evident. He still sounds frustrated by it, despite all the time that passed. Teachers had been giving him crap for years because he hadn't been making much progress with the instrument.

When he got to the private instructor, she acknowledged his frustration, and asked him to try to play for her. He did, and she saw all he was doing. She then did something no one else had done before. She asked him to put his mouthpiece on a different clarinet and try to play the same notes. Like magic, it worked. She looked at the clarinet he had been using and found that the school's clarinet needed it's pads replaced.

He went from last chair to first chair nearly overnight, having been taught far more techniques than typically taught at that age just to overcome the broken instrument preventing him from making noise.

Sometimes you don't need to brute force a problem. Sometimes your clarinet is just broken.

nowordsandnotune

Not quite sure why the clarinet addition got me crying, but here you go people: just in case, let's get you some new pads.

Had a lovely time with Daddy the other night. Cuddling in bed with a show and Daddy got turned on and kitten was gonna suck their cock but went to put in the cute pink vibe in to have a nice buzz during it.

Ended up laying on Daddy, humping their leg and pressing their vibe and cunny against Daddys leg and got worked up and Daddy said sexy things in kittens ears like her being Daddys sextoy and cumdump and telling her to be a good girl and hump Daddys leg and then Daddy told their sextoy fuckkitten to cum and cumdump climaxed all over Daddy's leg and squirmed and felt so happy Daddy teased them and made them feel great <3 and kittencunt has been squirmy and needy ever since <3

Loves Daddy @antagonistcobalt so much <3

#diary #master #fave

consolecadet

The Worcester library is getting some local press coverage for its March late fee forgiveness program, which is called "March Meowness". In short: if you have lost/damaged fees, come to the library with a picture of a cat, any cat (drawings are ok) and they'll waive any outstanding fines on your library card.

Fav quote: "Even if you don't have a cat in your life, you can still draw one," said library Executive Director Jason Homer. "Even if it's one of the big cats, like a tiger or a lion, and we'll be excited to see those."

massachusetts-official

Official Post of Massachusetts

scifigrl47

How can you post this and not show the official announcement image?? Bask in its gloriousness.

Daddy amd kitten were cuddling today and then Daddy got turned on and had kitten suck their cock <3 kitten got called good girl lots andxit made her wet and squirm while sucking Daddy's cock <3

And then she finished and Daddy was happy and we cuddled and kitten grinded on Daddys leg and then Daddy touched her cunny with their fingers, before putting their cock in her <3

kitten had a lovely time with Daddy today <3 @antagonistcobalt

#diary #master

good-wizard2

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️ Incase anyone forgot! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

writtenbynath

Nimja

This writing, which is not by me, was removed from Fetlife because of reasons. So I'm posting it here.

🚩His first consent violation in the Dutch kink scene over 20 years ago. This is a long established pattern.

🚩One case of grooming someone under 18 years old. This person reported Nimja to NEEHU because they wouldn't feel safe if he attended.

🚩Both Nimja and the organisers of NEEHU are accountable for the fact that Nimja attended NEEHU online under a pseudonym after he was banned for above reason.

🚩Multiple bans from hypno kink events in the US and internationally.

🚩One case of hypnotising a person who did not give consent to be hypnotised. She was traumatised and still gets very angry talking about this, even ten years after the event.

🚩One case of a little agreeing to play with him on the condition "nothing sexual" and he proceeded to give her a hypnotic orgasm. This was so traumatic to her, she never wants to be hypnotised again.

🚩Numerous cases of creepy behaviour.

🚩Multiple cases of online hypno D/s play that he ended abruptly and without giving proper aftercare, leaving them addicted to files without any recourse. Some of these women flew to the Netherlands to meet him only to be dumped.

🚩Multiple cases of gaslighting his victims into believing he had done nothing wrong and they must be bad subjects or they must need mental help for reacting this way.

🚩Numerous cases of trying to remove complaints and information about his abuse from online spaces, accusing people of harassing him and badmouthing his victims.

🚩The parasocial relationships he develops with his fans are unhealthy because there is an imbalance in power and he has taken no steps to change that over the years. He still seems to seek out young women who are inexperienced in kink and hypnosis so he can teach (groom) them, and so they won't talk back at him.

Every new girl who becomes his fan is at risk of falling prey to this same behaviour again.

writtenbynath

Eight. I have now spoken to eight different victims. And there are more victims I haven't spoken to. He will never stop. We must protect each other. Please share the warning

friend-crow

I am slowly losing my mind over the shift towards video as the default media format.

I do not find this to be an efficient way to absorb information. I am bored and distracted by the time the largely unnecessary introduction is over. I can't use ctrl+f to find the specific information I'm looking for. If there are instructions to follow, I don't want to have to constantly pause and back up to the part I need.

At least give me a fucking transcript.

letmefixthatforyou

I can read faster than you can talk and these videos are wasting my time.

alarajrogers

Yeah, agreed. I am a speed reader with auditory processing disorder. I am just gonna put on the subtitles and read your video anyway so why bother? Give me a transcript.

Unless it's a how-to video, in which case the visuals might be very important. But if it's just an essay? It's fine, there are a lot of people who like it when a human talks them through the essay, with visuals, but provide a damn transcript for those of us who don't, please.

scifiscribbler

And if you're embedding the video on your site, a transcript means people can search for the topics you cover and find you.

farialyton

Facebook deleted this almost immediately. It's almost like the ultrawealthy don't want us knowing or talking about what's at stake.

shencomix

kitten-candi

@antagonistcobalt you mean the world to me, and are worth more than you know <3

vaspider

Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.

It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.

On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.

I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"

That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.

Never.

These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.

And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.

Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.

You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.

But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.

That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.

It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.

Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.

Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.

Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.

They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.

But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.

I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."

(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.

Fucker.)

But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.

I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.

But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.

The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.

That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.

The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.

lespoopypodle

This is important. But also who is Pete Buttigieg in all seriousness

zeldahime

Pete Buttigieg is a US politician best known for being a moderate mom-and-apple-pie Democrat. He's white, upper-middle-class, graduated from Harvard, married to a schoolteacher, Christian, Navy vet. He ran for President in 2016 and he's currently the Secretary of Transportation.

He's the epitome of respectability. If anyone has won the respectability politics game, it's Pete. He's so respectable he doesn't even swear. He looks and acts like a slice of Wonderbread came to life.

He's still a just another faggot.

ingdamnit

Also been sucking shit as SOT

vaspider

I'm gonna say this again, and I'll say it every time I get one of these fucking point-missing additions on this post:

Hey. Let's be clear here: this isn't about whether he's doing a good job or whether you like Pete personally or whether you think his politics are ineffective milquetoast liberal bullshit. The point is not "he's not special, he's just another faggot like the rest of us, he hasn't opted out by being cool and good" or whatever the point of the above comment is.

In fact, the point isn't even about Pete Buttigieg at all. You can substitute in any one of us who is "respectable," including any of your personal darlings, if it helps get the point across. You can sub in anyone currently being lauded by the media, or who ever has been. Ellen, Rosie O'Donnell, Neil Patrick Harris, Lily Tomlin, Sir Ian McKellen, Grant Robertson, Ed Koch, Wilson Cruz, Jodie Foster, Elliot Page, Xavier Bettel, Harris Wofford, Jens Spahn, George Takei, Sarah Paulson, Dan Levy, Richard Chamberlain, Ana Brnabić. Whoever.

It doesn't matter if you're the Transportation Secretary or a beloved actor or the Prime Minister of fucking Luxembourg, to the people who want us to disappear from public life, from this fucking earth, we're all just trannies, faggots and dykes. That is the point. It's not about this one dude, and it never was.

romanceyourdemons

first day as a second century warlord i have my men tie branches to their horses’ tails to stir up dust and make it look like there’s a lot of us but i forget it just rained so there isn’t any dust and the enemy can clearly see there’s like twenty of us all spread out in a line

romanceyourdemons

second day as a second century warlord i bribe a bunch of kids to start singing a nursery rhyme i carefully crafted to spread misinformation and further my strategic ends but they change the lyrics to be about poop and the enemy isn’t misdirected at all

romanceyourdemons

third day as a second century warlord i lure my enemy into a narrow valley and send a team of archers to shoot them from the high ground but there was a feral hog napping on the trail up to the overlook and they couldn’t decide whether to try and shoot it or just go around and by the time the hog woke up and left on its own the enemy had already passed safely below

romanceyourdemons

fourth day as a second century warlord we attempt to join a battle on the side of the guy we want to ally with but he and the guy he’s fighting have really similar names and it’s finally dusty and i misread the standards and attack the wrong guy. so now we’re stuck with this total loser of a liege lord, because how the fuck do you explain that after a battle?

romanceyourdemons

fifth day as a second century warlord and some sort of wizard wanders into camp, my loser liege lord wants to execute him for being a wizard but i convince him to let the wizard stay, because i want to do more weather-based strategies and i’m pretty sure having a camp wizard can help with that. after the welcome to the team banquet the wizard steals half the treasury and my liege lord’s wife and leaves

romanceyourdemons

sixth day as a second century warlord my loser liege lord sends me to reinforce a city he’s taken, but in the confusion of leaving i forgot to take the token that would have gotten us into the city, so my men have to wait outside the city walls for like eight hours while i ride back to get it

romanceyourdemons

seventh day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord finally joins me in the city, it turns out he’s actually a pretty cool guy, and he isn’t even that mad at me for letting the wizard steal his wife. i decide to shoot my shot but i’m really nervous and keep on stalling because what if i mess up our relationship and by extension jeopardize the security of my men, and eventually he just says goodnight and goes back to his room, where an assassin is in the process of setting up to kill him

romanceyourdemons

eighth day as a second century warlord and my loser liege lord tells me to fake defect to his rival warlord, the one i originally wanted to ally with, to find out if he was the one who sent the assassin and why. but my whole way over to the rival warlord i’m worried that this has something to do with the wizard thing or how awkward i made it last night

romanceyourdemons

ninth day as a second century warlord i try to tactfully ask my fake liege lord if he sent the assassin to kill my loser liege lord and it turns out the idea of using assassins never occurred to him, but now that i’ve suggested it he’s really into it. in order to save my loser liege lord i volunteer to be the one to kill him

romanceyourdemons

tenth day as a second century warlord on my way back to my loser liege lord’s city i realize i won’t be able to collect my men from my fake liege lord until i bring back my loser liege lord’s head. this would have been a great thing to think of before i got myself in this situation. i go back to my loser liege lord and ask him to rescue my men, and he tells me that if he could sack my fake liege lord’s camp he already would have. that doesn’t change the fact that my men are still trapped. they’re prisoners, even. i go back to my room to sulk

romanceyourdemons

eleventh day as a second century warlord i find a little caged pigeon in the rafters of my loser liege lord’s room and deduce it belonged to the assassin. without asking permission or telling my loser liege lord goodbye i let the pigeon loose and follow it north. don’t ask what i was doing in my loser liege lord’s room. it’s not important

romanceyourdemons

twelfth day as a second century warlord i disguise myself as a wizard and enter the camp of the coalition leader the pigeon led me to. in the middle of my little sleight of hand performance i make eye contact with the coalition leader’s second-in-command. IT’S THE WIZARD THAT STOLE MY LOSER LIEGE LORD’S WIFE. after the banquet i corner the fake wizard and ask him what the fuck is going on and he just says “wouldn’t you like to know” and leaves. i don’t know what to say to that so i just let him go

romanceyourdemons

thirteenth day as a second century warlord i’m honestly so sick of not knowing what’s going on, so i adjust my wizard costume to passably disguise myself as a woman and break into the women’s area of the camp, where sure enough my loser liege lord’s wife is. i ask her what she’s doing here and she tells me the fake wizard overheard her singing a poem she overheard on the street, not knowing it contains the coalition leader’s formation’s weaknesses. the fake wizard kidnapped her and assigned an assassin to kill her husband before they figured out the poem’s significance. she shares the first couplet with me but i’m discovered and thrown out before she can share any more. she doesn’t need to. through a bizarre coincidence of homophones, it’s the poop version of my misinformation nursery rhyme

romanceyourdemons

fourteenth day as a second century warlord i go back to my loser liege lord and tell him everything, urging him to join with my fake liege lord to attack the coalition leader according to the weaknesses in the nursery rhyme. he tells me frankly that he doesn’t trust me anymore. i ask him to execute me if that’s really true, because i can’t bear to live if i can’t protect him and i can’t protect my men. he agrees to attack the coalition leader

romanceyourdemons

fifteenth day as a second century warlord. due to the information in the nursery rhyme, and thanks to my loser liege lord reminding me of the weather conditions multiple times while planning our battle strategy, our alliance carries the day. my loser liege lord gets his wife back. my men tell me that our fake liege lord actually treated them really well and they’d like to stay with him if i don’t mind. i do mind, now that neither the men i love nor the man i love have any use for me, but i don’t tell them that

romanceyourdemons

sixteenth day as a second century warlord i’m preparing to leave to i don’t know where, maybe to try to become a wizard for real, when my loser liege lord stops me and asks me where i’m going. he says he had hoped i would continue to work as his advisor. i was unaware i was his advisor in the first place. i agree, and he tells me he’s truly honored to have me in his service at last. he has known i am a rare and talented man with a strategic intelligence far above his ever since the day he witnessed me tying branches to my horses’ tails in six inches of mud, and could not for the life of him figure out why

sepiascissors

Critical background info on our beloved second century warlord

swordmlm

reblog if you:

ARE GAY

ARE POWERFUL

LOVE YOUR PARTNER

SUPPORT OUR TRANS BROTHERS AND SISTERS AND OUR AMAZING NONBINARY SIBLINGS

no one will ever know which one

gallusrostromegalus

Today's Adventure is that I, after an unintentional 13-hour power nap,

Got woken up at 6AM by a phone call from a friend stranded in Montana because of the heat wave and almost no cell service because of their crap provider.

OhSoThat'sHowIt'sGonnaBe.jpg

Ok.

I somehow summon a week's worth of spoons and in less than 30 minutes and 5 phone calls, get them

A hotel

An appointment with a mechanic from 2 states away

A perscription refilled from 2 states away

and A Pizza

Go me.

But then it's 8AM and there are unscheduled live humans at the door and while EVERGENCY MODE is still on, I have already blown through a ton of spoons, and also probably shouldn't meet whoever it is wearing just a pair of bootyshorts that say "CRYPTID" in Gothic Font on my ass.

So I greet them in those shorts and a T-shirt that I manage to put on both inside out and backwards

#nailedit

It is, Fortunately, not the mormons.

it is, Unfortunately, two UPS guys trying to deliver my other in-house friend's new phone except the new guy doesn't know how to operate the "sign for package" device, and the old guy that's supposed to be mentoring him is like, 92, deaf as a post, and doesn't actually know how to operate the device either.

by the way

it is already

over 100 out

it takes almost 30 minutes to sign for the phone

when i get back inside, i discover that apparently the Corgi has learned how to open his kennel from the inside because he is now out of the kennel and waiting for me to come in.

he also has cat litter all over his face because while he was waiting for me he also learned how to open the baby gate to the cat's room and help himself to a cat shit breakfast.

He'll be fine

He's a cattle dog, they're legally required to have at least 1 really disgusting snack they love.

but

more to the point

i have no idea at what point he learned to open his kennel from the inside

has he been staying there out of politeness this whole time??

And

I got other shit to do today.

namely.

I'm seeing a realator

The Devils most pathetic yet effective demons

I get a reminder text that I have an appointment with her

at least

I think that's what it is because what she sends me is: "🏡⏰12:00 ❔"

With the time typed in the middle like that.

She is, according to her profile, at least 80.

so I reply "😎👍"

and then she sends me a string of GODDAMN POST-MODERN EMOJI HEIROGLYPHICS THAT TAKE UP MY ENTIRE SCREEN.

She's on an iPhone so half of them don't even translate across platforms

It takes me half an hour and three different software programs and goddamn wingdings to translate, but she has sent me the address and rules about masking and not wearing shoes inside.

in emoji

instead of like

literally any other format

I am

FASCINATED

and simply must meet the woman so if I don't come back to update I got stolen by the fairies but I'm taking the Corgi with me as protection so I'll see y'all later.

gallusrostromegalus

Update:

It's not fairies

It's Doris.

might be about to get a sewing machine and/or start an ACAB riot.

gallusrostromegalus

Ok, so:

I'm going to see a prospective house because due to various circumstances, I'm probably going to be moving to the other side of a major metropolitan area in the next few months, but that's not important.

I get to the house

I get a text from the realtor

The realtor is not the person who has been texting me in emoji

The person texting me in emoji is the homeowner, who the realtor says will let me in if I want, she's running late.

Sure

Why not

I put Herschel on leash and go to the front door

As much crime as he commits at home Herschel The Hanukkah Goblin has terrific public manners, and is Very Cute so I'm about 90% sure the emoji fairy is going to let me take him through the house

Door opens.

90-something blue haired old lady with a spine like a question mark and glasses that could be used as telescope lenses opens the door.

"OH [Gallus]! How lovely to see you!"

This woman clearly knows me because she remembers my anniversary was last week and that my sister is back from Australia.

Problem is

I know about 500 geriatric ladies with blue hair, scoliosis and extreme prescription glasses, because I am a member of 2 quilt guilds, the scientific illustration guild, the rocky mountain SCA and stagehand for three different theater companies, so I know everyone's grandma and fuck me if I can tell them apart.

Wait

There's a quilt in thekitchen, visible front hall

I don't know faces but apparently I can recognize applique techniques at 40paces.

"...Doris? From SAQA?"

"YES! Who is this handsome little man?"

Herschel speaks enough English to know that "handsome little man" means "this person will feed me milk bones and bacon if I'm cute enough"

Immediately does a Sit Pretty and Shake.

Doris is bewitched

This is fine, but I also know I'm about to severely disappoint the realtor because there is no way in hell I'm moving into this House.

Because

The reason Doris is moving out is that her neighbor is a Cunt Magnifique and has been harassing Doris and everyone else to form an HOA and "improve the quality of our residents" because this woman has nothing better to do than be a racist-ass busy body, and recently, she's set her husband, a county sheriff on Doris, trying to bully her into signing paperwork and threatening her with legal action and writing her up for bullshit property violations

Ain't putting up with that shit

And neither is Doris, so she's selling all her shit and moving out to live with her grandchildren in Santa Monica.

But she's technologically impaired, so the only indication that there is an estate sale happening is a small paper sign in her front yard.

"Doris." I say, as Herschel makes himself comfortable on the couch for belly rubs and pieces of ham. "Did you tell SAQA or FRCC or anyone on Facebook that you're having the sale?"

"oh, I don't know how to do all that!" She sighs. "I tried to call the Denver post but they just put me on hold for ages..."

"Watch Herschel for 20 minutes and he's only allowed to have that one piece of ham."

Pics of everything

Address, time and pics to Facebook, both quilt guilds she's in, two more I have contacts for, nextdoor, and the local SCA discord for good measure.

It's 12 minutes and Herschel persuaded her to give him at least three pieces of ham.

He is petitioning for a fourth by doing a little puppy dance on the living room rug.

"OK, that's enough ham, people will be here in 10. Where is your cash box?"

Because apparently I'm running an estate sale today too.

It's fine :)

There's about 7 minutes of quiet.

Then

They DESCEND

The first on the scene is DeeDee, who doesn't believe in speed limits. She's arrived with a horse trailer. I remember that she is also moving.

"HI DORIS SWEETHEART WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS TODAY I WAS GOING TO TAKE ALL THIS TO THE GOODWILL HERE LET ME SET UP ON YOUR LAWN "

DeeDee is 73, and has a special spiritual bond with Hello Kitty. She weighs like 98lbs, dresses exclusively in neon pink sanrio clothes and the kind of eye makeup drag queens aspire to.

She also speaks non-stop at a volume normally associated with jet engines.

Half the horse trailer is already spread out on the lawn.

Doris is putting price stickers on stuff

Herschel is trying to tear open a bag of cotton batting.

This, and the arrival of approximately 56 minivans, five more trucks with horse trailers and Corgi Excitement Screaming alert Cunt Magnifique that something is happening outside.

Madame saunters off her porch up to Doris and Demands to know what's happening, you're supposed to notify the neighborhood and get a permit to-"

Doris, surrounded by her pack of silver wolves, shouts. "OH HELLO! EVERYONE, THIS IS MARCIA. I'VE TOLD YOU ALL ABOUT MARCIA." >:)c

... further details in a bit I think the Vikings are here.

gallusrostromegalus

~`* SOMEONE'S GETTING FIRED!!*`~

gallusrostromegalus

OK so.

You know those high school house parties you see in movies, where the person invites only a few friends, but those friends call their friends, and those friends call THEIR friends and soon like 500 people show up to one house and someone calls the cops and that one John Mulaney sketch with "SCATTER!" happens?

Old people will 100% do this too, except instead of a house party it's an estate sale on a wednesday afternoon and when the cop shows up there are lawyers present and he is in DEEP SHIT because his wife just spent the afternoon admitting to doing a bunch of wildly illegal shit on tape.

So when we left off, the party had really started getting underway, because Marcia the Cunt Magnifique had decided to crash the estate sale and whine about "we're supposed to coordinate garage sales as a neighborhood" and "your friends are blocking traffic on this cul-de-sac while nobody is home" weh weh-

DeeDee is about ready to throw hands but she is nowhere near the most dangerous of the Silver Silver Wolves.

That's Dr. Ruth.

Dr. Ruth turned 99 this year and went paragliding for her birthday

So you understand just how hard she goes

Dr. Ruth sort of hobbles over and point-blank asks "So I understand you've been trying to start a homeowner's association?" :3c

Marcia

Entirely misunderstanding how much danger she's in

Starts enumerating the TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS of trying to start one, because SOME PEOPLE DON'T RESPECT AUTHORITY and all the paperwork and talking to people and she even had to ask HER HUSBAND. A SHERRIF. To go around and hand people stuff to sign.

Some people, right?

Dr. Ruth nods. Some people. She agrees.

You know.

Her son is a lawyer.

Why doesn't she give him a call?

Marcia, a Moron: Oh that'd be great!

Dr. Ruth, hobbling back to Doris: "Don't worry. David will handle this."

Meanwhile

The Friends-Of-Friends and the Friends-Of-Friends-Of-Friends are arriving, lured in because they heard the words "Longarm Sewing Machine" and "Hand-made quilts"

Various factions present include but are far from limited to: -Probably Six Quilt Guilds -The Denver Art League -The Denver Leather League -The Vikings -The Klingons -The Colorado Wild Game Share -A Pack of Scientific Illustrators -A Pack of Assorted Scientists they brought with them -The Sheep Lesbians -The Horse Lesbians -Three Extremely Competent Finnish People (My Scientific Illustration Professor and her sisters) who immediately take over the estate sale and turn it into an auction to maximize profit and keep the taxes in order.

Someone brings two additional Corgi called "Cap" and "Bucky"

They are Pembroke Corgi, and weigh about 21lbs apiece

Herschel is a Cardigan Welsh Corgi and weighs 42lbs because he's hug even for a Cardigan, and is Delighted with his New Minions.

They worship him as a God and follow him around so every time he sticks his face in something two smaller corgi faces immediately follow, like some kind of adorable cerberus.

Pelts and meat shares are being traded out of the backs of trucks and vans

Someone is making bratwurst.

Intrigued by the Brouhaha, Doris' neighbors emerge.

They are also Geriatric and very nervous, because Marcia has been harassing them too.

They are telling this to the members of these factions that are also lawyers.

There are at least 5 of them so far and David isn't even here yet.

I realize my realtor isn't even here.

I decide to text her.

She is somewhere in the crowd and having a nervous breakdown because She's SO LATE!!!

Ma'am.

It's 103 out.

I was just handed a freshly grilled Brat

Some bitch is incriminating herself on the lawn.

Nothing scheduled is happening.

Come sit in the yard and watch the Corgis play on the Palyskool plastic slide set. They're disassembling it like tiny furry engineers.

Have a bratwurst.

One of the Klingons appears, having physically carried my realtor through the crowd, and gently deposits her on the lawn before handing her a Bratwurst.

Diane, the Realtor, is not much older than I am, and from the preppie swaths of society that has "Never had a dog growing up" and "Didn't Know People Could Just. Make. Blankets?" and "What is this? It's like a hot dog but spicy?"

She is having a LEARNING EXPERIENCE.

One of the Horse Lesbians comes over and compliments Diane on her Dior handbag.

Diane thanks her ans compliments the apparently expensive brand scarf she has on. Do you. Know all these people?

Horse Lesbian explains that she's part of the SCA, and what that is, and that why yes. Her girlfriend Tasha is an armorer. Yes like for knights.

More Livestock Lesbians assemble.

They are pulling off shirts to show off livestock and battle scars, and biceps.

Diane is LEARNING A LOT TODAY.

I am just getting everyone's contact info and making sure Herschel does not consume his weight in bratwurst.

BWOOP!

Uh-Oh.

Marcia's Husband is here.

I step out front.

He has used the siren to largely part the crowd and pull into his driveway but it has closed around him and there is No Escape.

He starts huffing and puffing about blocked traffic and permits and the like, but this is not his usual Can-Bully-Without-Consequences crowd.

These are Grandmas.

Veterans of the 60's protest front who never let up.

He's starting to turn bright red and looks like he's about to cry and I've got my phone out to record whatever Incident is about to occur.

-And a Mercedes pulls up.

It's David.

Dr. Ruth's son.

The Lawyer.

And I emphasize that The because David is not some mere ambulance chaser.

David is the guy that the state sends to prosecute Corporate Fraud and Organized Crime and Other State Departments.

David was part of the team that took down the CO Branch of the KKK.

David is all of 5'4", very round and a balding little man that looks like the Dictonary Definition of "Nebbish" that moves with such intense confidence and authority that he pretty much has the Pillar Men Theme Blasting behind him at all times.

So when he and three other lawyers from the state's office step out of the car

Mr. Sherrif goes from red to while like color-changing octopus and I am like 50% sure he shit himself.

Because what he and Marcia have been doing is Very, Very, Very, VERY, Fucking Illegal.

"mArCiA!" he garbles. "sHuT tHe fUcK uP!"

Marcia is standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac, having spent the last 3 hours recounting to anyone who will listen about the 'measures she's had to take' and now the 5 lawyers that were here are delightedly handing over the paperwork that she had forced on Doris and her Neighbors, and pointing at all the doorbell cameras and witnesses out to the state's top prosecutor.

Friends

I ugly laughed.

FOUR HOURS LATER: -Auction wrapped up with a solid $40K to Doris' name plus pending sales on some of her larger furniture and antiques

Plus whatever David gets in damages from the county sherrif's office.

Marcia and husband are fucking busted

Herschel spent all afternoon running around and eating snacks and is passed out on the floor

Diane is "meeting up with" one of the Horse Lesbians next week.

The sewing machine went to someone else but I did open my purse and found out Doris or someone shoved a bunch of cash in there.

I'm getting ice dream and going to bed.

everchased

can someone please get these hoes under control i'm BUSY

ranger-truth

Guys, guys, let’s get back into Animorphs!!!

They are all free to read with Applegate’s permission on the animorphs website!

Oh yeah babey

radicalclownfriend-deactivated2

gravityofstars

She has also written some absolutely amazing books recently.

These are just a few of them. I read The One and Only Ivan to my students every year (and there’s a sequel coming out in May!).

Every one of her books I’ve read has been beautifully written. Yes, they’re written for children, but you won’t regret reading a single one of them. Applegate is hands-down my favorite middle grades author.

Read. Her. Books.

gravityofstars

Also this

ophidahlia

Animorphs says trans rights

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