taylor price

blake kathryn
One Nice Bug Per Day

titsay
🪼

⁂
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Today's Document
DEAR READER

#extradirty

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Mike Driver
todays bird

JBB: An Artblog!
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
styofa doing anything

Kiana Khansmith
ojovivo

tannertan36
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@oicowlypte
This has been the case for a while now but despite the great Muskening, I joined Twitter last year and have more or less lost interest in Tumblr as a result of it. I’m still gonna keep this blog around for sentimental value and in the case that Twitter does fully go up in flames, but if I’ve got any mutuals lingering around here who want to keep up with me there, feel free to drop a follow! I don’t post much atm but am trying to get better at that ^^;
https://twitter.com/phyrelink
there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)
i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.
i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.
and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.
HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.
now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.
my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.
i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.
by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!
keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"
similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."
the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"
if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.
the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.
godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.
the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.
A species that has thrived relatively unchanged for millions of years, everybody
@tentacleteapot
this is an apex predator. you may not like it, but this is what the pinnacle of reptilian evolution looks like.
so-called “free thinkers” when the rock meter turns green
Holiday
GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY (2022) dir. Rian Johnson
Me: -so after it became apparent that ‘retarded’ had become a term of abuse, educators and psychiatrists switched to other terms like ‘handicapped’ or ‘special needs’ in an attempt to -
George Orwell, whom I’ve dragged forward in time with my arcane powers because I’m lonely and want someone to talk to: You have a telephone in your pocket? It listens to you all the time?
Me: Never mind about that, the point is, young people now mock each other by sending the wheelchair emoji - that’s a type of electronic heiroglyph - to suggest mental deficiency and shout SPESHUL!!!! while doing offensive imitations of disabled facial expressions and posture. So any attempt to lexographically make crimethink impossible is pretty much doomed because the meaning of words in everyday conversation can’t be controlled by a dictionary entry, no matter how many Ministry of Truth employees-
Orwell: It reports your location to the telephone company at all times?
Ok but both the additions actually miss the point of the original, which is that Orwell is fixating on something which is actually MORE RELEVANT to his concerns than the language issue
#I bring Alan Turing back from the dead#I show him GPT-3 and ask him if he thinks it passes the Turing test#and ask him what he thinks of our computers that are billiona of times as powerful as his#but all he can say#with unmitigated tears of joy in his eyes#is#you mean to tell me that they legalized homosexuality?
(via @compiler-specific)
Just saw a very serious tumblr post refer to adults age 25+ as “older adults.” I am begging you kids to go outside and interact with diverse groups of people. Please. It’s for your own good.
The human lifespan, according to tumblr:
Birth to 17.99999999 years: Child. Doesn’t matter where you fall in that range. You are a helpless, innocent child.
18-approximately 21 years: Adult. Full internet privileges!
21-25 years: Sketchy adult. You can stay, but you’re on thin fucking ice.
25 years to end of life: Senior citizen. Old fart. Washed up has-been with nothing to contribute to society who should never socialize below their age bracket. Also probably a pedophile.
Pop my pussy most divine
I've had enough of this website.
Oh so you can post this,
but we’re not allowed to post Jesus popping his Chrussy on the Cross, I see how it is
dionysus big naturals
hey so this is simultaneously the best and worst reply you could have ever made to my post
Inspiration struck me like a brick to the skull
A watermelon eating contest
English added by me :)
What uh. What's the frog story 👀
back when i was in second grade, my elementary school organised a school market with every class selling their crafts for charity. the contribution of my class were hand-sized ceramic frogs we made in art class. each one of us made one of them to be sold for five euros a piece (this is important later). the quality of the frog i made varies drastically based on who is telling the story, and for reasons that will become very apparent later there is no way to check, but i stand by the fact that it was average looking, if a bit wonky.
the day of the market arrived, and all frogs were bought within minutes, snatched up by enthusiastic and proud parents. all except - mine. because my mother hates spending money on unnecessary things, and she hates children's crafts even more. so she - loudly and vehemently - refused, in her thick eastern european accent, to "spend five euros on an ugly frog".
i will never forget seeing my ceramic frog alone on the slightly wet cardboard, surrounded by the imprints left behind by the already sold frogs. all the while other parents are getting more and more agitated, trying to get my mother to put the frog out of its misery. eventually, she budged, and spend five euros on a wonky frog. she was absolutely furious about this.
so furious, in fact, that when we came home to where my father was remodelling the kitchen, she WALLED IT IN. that's right. she cask of amadillo'd that poor ceramic fool. put him into the open wall and slapped concrete over it faster than my poor seven year old self or my dad could protest. out of pure anger over loosing five euros. and that's where it remains, until this day.
my mom hates when this story is brought up, which is why we bring it up all the time. she also thinks she what she did was right, because "do the other parents know where the frog is? no. only your creation is safe. because i love you." morally, i would disagree, but on a pure factual basis, she has a point.
i made her another ceramic frog for her last brithday, which was not buried like some pharaoh, and everytime guests compliment it my brother loudly goes "oh you should see the other frog he made" and when they ask to see it, he points at the wall. this is hilarious to him and infuriating for my mother. and that's the frog story.
Fun history facts: One of the 31 people arrested at Stonewall on June 28th 1969 was American folk singer Dave Van Ronk, who was not at the Stonewall Inn at the time and was cis & straight as far as I'm aware. He'd been eating dinner at a nearby restaurant when he noticed a riot happening, said "Well I suppose I should go see what the fuss is about," stepped outside, and immediately started throwing bricks at the cops.
Ol' Davey really just saw people rioting in the streets and went "Sweet! ACAB!"
bring this energy back
can someone pls explain
Cops lie all the time about being contact poisoned with fentanyl, saying touching someone using/some contaminated surface RESULTED IN FOUR COPS OVERDOSING AND NEARLY DYING !!!11!!1 despite the fact that this is physically not possible. Primarily it is done to either hide the fact that cops are using, or to fearmonger about fentanyl and addicts. No this cop wasn't using fentanyl, it was some junkie scum who used and then when the cop touched the desk it was strong enough to make him OD ! Also if fentanyl can make four pigs OD just by touching traces, what would happen if little Jimmy had touched it ? we have to kill junkies to protect our cops and your children !!
The joke is that theyve blown it so far out of proportion that even being faxed an image of fentanyl would cause the whole precinct to OD and keel over dead.
oh i see
thank you for explaining it to me :)
In communities around the country, stories and headlines are stoking fears that fentanyl exposure through the skin could lead to adverse eff
Why is fentanyl so lethal? Can it hurt you just from touching your skin? An @OSUWexMed Addiction Medicine specialist separates fentanyl’s fa
just wanted to add some resources to back this up cause i didn’t know it was bs until now
Reblog to make all the cops die from touching a fax machine
Adding to this, y’all realize that if fentanyl could kill you merely by existing in its presence a lot of healthcare workers and healthcare patients would be dead. Heck, I had to clean up a broken fentanyl vial at work the other day and even touched a droplet of the liquid by accident, and I’m still alive. This isn’t even looking at how stigmatizing drugs and drug users like this makes them less likely to seek help for their situation.
Similar story from a couple months ago: there’s lots of kids in this neighborhood, and mine like to go gadding about and making friends and they all go across the street to the park to play. One of the older kids that Eris bonded with comes over to our house sometimes, and very recently this kid rolls up to our front yard while we’re going some garden work and asks do I like their new hair cut?
Looks home done, like you know, buzzed it in the bathroom mirror with a pair of clippers, which is exactly what I’m rocking too, so I say yeah, looks great because I think it does. And the next thing this kid does is say with chin stuck in the air, “I’m trans, you know.” And I can see the look on his face, expecting the adult to challenge, push back, or scoff, or maybe just blink ignorantly and say “what’s that?” I smile and say, “cool, brother, same hat.” And my god the way his face lit up. Absolutely beaming. We fist bumped and he started chattering at me full tilt, not even about anything to do with gender but just talking. Because in that moment he was safe to be himself. Since then he’s got a full wardrobe change and a binder so I very much hope his mom is also being supportive, but he still likes to pop by just to chat about whatever.
Protect our trans elders and protect our trans kids. You never fucking know where you’ll find them, and what kind of impact you’ll have.
[ID: a Twitter thread by Kivan @/KivaBay reading:
I just had the most incredible experience in front of my apartment building and I have to share it.
There’s a little old man who walks up and down the street and says hi if we’re out there smoking cigarettes. I was outside smoking and he was walking past and said “good afternoon young lady!”
And normally I’d probably be too scared to correct a stranger but he’d said hi before.
No I said “actually I’m not a young lady, I’m a man” and immediately got nervous and try to explain my high voice and, uh, tiddy. “I have a condition.”
And this little old man goes “oh are you transgender?” And having painted myself into a corner I say yes.
“Me too,” he says
And I realize this little old man is shorter than me. And he’s got suspenders and a cute hat (hello call-out post for my fashion sense). And he’s smiling so warmly.
I am meeting a trans man elder and I don’t even have a good bowtie on!! WTF Kivan!
And he called me brother and said he was honored to meet me and hugged me and just after everything with my dad I can’t even begin to put into words how much I needed to see a little old man I could grow to be.
I’m actually crying right now because I just really really need that.
You’re all great, let’s protect our trans elders, and grow up to be the good trans elders for those after us. /end ID]