You will know within about 10 seconds if this is your jam, and if it is … hoo boy do I have something for you.
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@ouroborosblue
You will know within about 10 seconds if this is your jam, and if it is … hoo boy do I have something for you.
A scrunchy little guy! Hand embroidered animation and the hand that embroidered it. I had a lot of fun making this, especially doing the turkey stitch to make him so fluffy.
You can also see this on vimeo (in case tumblr compresses this): https://vimeo.com/800701493
an escalation of events
An Disagrooment
LET'S HEAR IT FOR TINNITUS!
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
So I wanted to know what kind of crystal could go in a wizard staff, right? so I googled “big crystal,” as one does, and got an Etsy ad for This
And as you all know I Am currently taking a geology class, so I am probably more emotionally invested in minerals than usual. But that is...very obviously not a natural crystal.
So I did some looking around on Etsy.
Now, these shops all seem to advertise to the “witchy”/“spiritual healing” type of person. And there are a lot of them. Crystals are a Big Thing on Etsy. And ALMOST ALL of them are obviously artificially cut into the same sort of prism with a triangular pyramid top, regardless of the actual sort of crystal it is supposed to be.
Even like, fucking, obsidian. Obsidian is volcanic glass, it doesn’t form crystals at all, it is not a crystal
I’m not throwing any shade at people who are into crystals for like witchy reasons, but it really seems like if crystals are spiritually important to you, you should know what a crystal is...right...?
So there I am. Caught in the helpless anger and distaste of looking at geologically inaccurate Etsy crystals.
And as I scroll, I start to see items in...interesting shapes:
“Oh,” I think to myself. “Oh no.”
But it is too late. I have heard the siren’s song, singing to me of knowledge that will destroy me, but that I cannot help but seek.
These...elongated objects are almost always ambiguously described as “massage wands,” “crystal healing wands,” and other such innocuous things. The egg-shaped objects are, um, “yoni eggs.”
...Right. Okay.
Maintain the youthfulness of my sacred organ.
IT’S A SEX TOY. SAY IT. BITCH, IT’S A SEX TOY, IT’S OKAY, SERIOUSLY, THERE’S NO SHAME IN IT, SAY IT WITH PRIDE, SAY IT WITH YOUR CHEST,
OKAY.
Okay. I’m good. I’m fine.
Actually, you know what, never mind. There is shame in this and I want it to be never acknowledged again.
Additionally, I am not fine.
Why the fuck are there so many of these—
At this point I stop and start googling.
Now, Selenite is the crystalline form of gypsum. It is also known as satin spar. Selenite is brittle and breaks easily, and has a Mohs hardness scale of 2.
For those unfamiliar with the Mohs hardness scale, a mineral with a hardness of 2 is soft enough that it can be easily scratched with a fingernail. It also is dissolved by moisture.
NO. DON’T PUT THAT IN YOUR BODY???? DON’T PUT THE GYPSUM, WHICH HAS A MOHS HARDNESS SCALE OF 2, IS BRITTLE AND BREAKS EASILY, AND IS WATER SOLUBLE, INSIDE YOUR LITERAL ACTUAL VAGINA??????????
I try to reassure myself with the fact that these things are probably not actually selenite, because making a dildo out of such a soft mineral in the first place would be very difficult. Having seen fluorite before, I feel pretty certain that the fluorite yoni eggs are probably actually just glass.
I google fluorite.
Okay.
Further exploring online shows me that fluorite is soluble in various strong acids.
Some guys on a forum in 2004 have strong contradictory opinions on this.
(I google the pH of the vagina.)
I don’t understand how pH works. I give up on the solubility question and google the toxicity of fluorite:
I now know at least one orifice fluorite does not go inside.
Science.
No, dear followers, my journey did not end here.
I have opened Pandora’s box, except Pandora’s box is filled with minerals God did not intend to be anywhere near the vagina carved into the shape of dildos. Etsy is advertising me sex toys I wish I could forget.
And vaginal steam herbs.
It seems that there is potentially a correlation between wanting to steam your vagina and wanting to put rocks in it. I know, groundbreaking discovery.
Okay, so we’re talking therapy substitute therapy substitute.
(I begin to think about how desperately we need universal health care. Maybe I just need someone, something, to blame.)
At this point, I realize that I haven’t done any googling on whether dildos made of rocks are a good idea at all. So, very tentatively, as if typing it more slowly will make it any less observed by the FBI, I google whether quartz should be used...internally.
First result that pops up:
That’s, uh. That’s reassuring.
I decide I’m incapable of unpacking this particular suitcase.
There are, of course, a small handful of articles debating the safety of rose quartz sex toys. But I’m getting the feeling that this is not a normal question to have in the first place. I close the tab with little relief.
Etsy is still enthusiastically recommending me things that hurt me psychologically.
...pleasure chalk?
How can I describe the fear that this image struck in me, reader?
Pleasure Chalk? What could that be?
Is knowing worse, or is not knowing? I scarcely have a choice:
I check in with my emotions.
Is this relief? Am I relieved that they are eating the dirt instead of fucking it? One review complains about the taste. I don’t know what they expected.
I try in vain to struggle against the tide, to return to the relatively normal side of Etsy. I begin to resent, no, hate, these deceptively aesthetically pleasing hippie shops eagerly spreading medical misinformation and things as yet unknown.
This, unlike the other “crystals” I have shown, appears to show naturally grown crystals. They are, of course, quartz crystals, and $45 comes off as extremely overpriced. I have a quartz crystal I got for a dollar at an Eastern Kentucky rock festival, about the size and quality of the ones in the photo.
Quartz is the most common mineral in the Earth’s crust. But at least this is regular levels of annoying.
Then I see this:
Well, I see the photo and the price, and I think, that looks like a regular quartz crystal. There’s no way a regular quartz crystal is $1,347.
I read the description:
I am crying. I don’t want to google any of this. I am beyond googling. I no longer desire knowledge.
THATS A QUARTZ CRYSTAL. MOTHERFUCKER THAT’S QUARTZ. SIO2, MOST COMMON MINERAL IN THE EARTH’S CRUST. ITS FUCKING QUARTZ IM—
I click on a malachite.
The malachite promises to protect me from emails. And at this, darkest hour, I want to be protected.
I have been broken. I have been lured to my demise.
Big Brother: loved.
Geology lab I’m supposed to be doing: incomplete.
God: unmerciful.
This post has everything. Price gouging quartz, eating dirt, and fucking poisonous rocks.
"2000 years ago, when women did not have access to hot running water...") (eyeroll) ...Oh, okay, then. "This offer invalid in ancient Crete."
...This single post has completely exhausted my local available WTF levels. Will return as soon as they regenerate.
Paper cranes by Cristian Marianciuc
Also here's the vid I mentioned abt men grunting and groaning in the bathroom
Wallcreeper
self checkout is everything to me. who wrote this
(Source)
DPC and DPL. Dead People’s Clothes and Dead People’s Leather. Their toys, their paintings of half naked, naked, screwing men. The statues. The leather. The sling. The posters. The … all of it. We’d literally Straighten homes. Depending. Some families knew and were fine. Or more ok. But pictures of other guys on phones was the least of it. I have… leather that’s been passed through three or four men who’ve died before getting to me. They’re the heirlooms now, passed down chosen families. Sometimes there were crews. We’d show up as soon as possible, as a unit. We’d hit the bedrooms first. Clear out closets, under beds, bedsides. We’d donate, throw out, take mementos. Pass on. Secret lives and secret, us only treasures. Then we’d leave. For some family’s you never talked about it. They never knew. It was better all around. I have vests, gloves. A belt. Arm bands. Paintings. T-shirts. Photos, undeveloped film that’d I’m still somewhat terrified to try to get developed (lol). We live on in the living rooms of others.
This is. A very important message for the younger generations of queers.
We still have so much father to go, but y'all. Don’t let our past be forgotten.
Transcription: So back in the late 80s and early 90s, when I was 20 and there was another friend dying of AIDS like every three weeks. Yeah, seriously those days were terrible. Young gay men now will just never know what it was like. But when a friend would die we would ALL know exactly what to do. We’d get to their houses as fast as possible (most of us already had a key) and we would know EXACTLY where the smut was, we would know EXACTLY where the stuff they didn’t want their family to find. We would get it and we would destroy it. OR we would keep it for ourselves if it was cool, or we would donate it to…something. I dunno. It’s kind of a messed up memory, but uh, back then we all just had to have each other’s backs and uuh, yeah. This video just reminded me of that.
Children, hold your mothers tight
The Slitherers are here tonight
Children, do not close your eyes
The Slitherers are just outside
Children, do not fall asleep
Or through your window they will creep
Children, hide beneath your bed
The Slitherers, they want you dead
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• Spoilers for a shitty game that lines a transphobe's pockets
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