Fuck You, Warner Brothers

@riversboundtorise

This blogger is an adult, autistic, aromantic asexual. Here Be Problematic Opinions & Unashamed Shipping. NSFW-friendly. Thanks to fire-keeper for the keychain in my header

210K posts

do not unfollow me one day i will be your 30 year old mutual

#or there's me!#already 33 XD if that's what you're after

the Cc in emails stands for Cuck chair

dawn dimmadome? wife of doug dimmadome, owner of the dimmsdale dimmadome?

actually she took the dimmadome in the dimmadivorce

#ok yes that's what I was thinking

minttttttttttttttttttttttttttt

future features to help tumblr become the new pdf:

you can insert tables into posts

you can link poll results and notes to a graph or chart

when you reblog a post, you can annotate it by highlighting words and drawing on the post (the drawings stack with each reblog) (you can only draw in your blog colors)

search feature that works

#the drawings would be so chaotic

Intersex fairies with wings like this

colorado-rockies-official

bunny moment

colorado-rockies-official

the baseball crowd loves unexpected animals far more than the baseball game

allthecanadianpolitics

https://globalnews.ca/news/11872287/aboriginal-title-cant-declared-private-land-supreme-court-of-canada/

The Supreme Court of Canada has upheld a ruling that Aboriginal title cannot be declared over private land, in a decision the federal govern

The refusal by Canada’s High Court to hear a First Nation’s appeal against the decision in New Brunswick establishes a precedent that First Nations can seek compensation for loss of traditional lands, but they will not be able to assert ownership.

WOW. Absolutely fuck them.

The Crown-Indigenous Relations Department says the ruling will inform arguments in other cases, including Cowichan, adding that “private property rights are fundamental.”

What a cute thing to say from the people who stole that fucking land to call it 'private property' in the first fucking place.

This is why the land acknowledgement that canadian institutions do is worth less than nothing

northstareclipse

A lot of criticism of delivery apps focuses on the fact that they offer convenience and variety, which I find much less compelling than criticizing the fact that the apps often send their contractors on fetch quests from Hell.

There are real labor problems here. Base pay is often insulting. Customer tips carry too much of the burden. Workers need better protections, more transparent algorithms, protection from arbitrary deactivation, and actual recourse when the app or a customer screws them over. Car-dependent delivery is also an environmental and infrastructural problem, though in a denser city I’d still be doing this work; I’d just be doing it by bike.

But when people talk about delivery work, I rarely see them talk to actual delivery workers. I see a lot of abstract arguments about convenience, consumer decadence, “hustle culture,” and internalized neoliberalism. Meanwhile, when I’m out working and waiting in restaurants for orders, the other Dashers I meet are usually people who only speak Spanish, people who read as neurodivergent, visibly physically disabled people, or some combination of the above.

I have not met this mythical Disco Elysium poor ultraliberal hustlegrinder-wannabe people seem to be arguing with. Maybe that archetype exists somewhere. If it exists among any kind of gig worker, it would probably be rideshare drivers. But most of what I see looks less like “rise and grind” and more like “this is one of the few forms of work available to people who need flexibility, low barriers to entry, limited managerial surveillance, or a way to work around language barriers, disability, burnout, chronic illnesses and injuries with symptoms that come and go unpredictably, caregiving, résumé gaps, or discrimination.”

That does not make the current system good. It means the current system is filling a real gap that a lot of supposedly better systems do not even acknowledge.

As a disabled person who is burnout-prone and demand-sensitive, contracting as a delivery driver has given me an unprecedented level of financial flexibility. I can work when I have capacity. I can stop when I’m deteriorating. I can build my day around my actual body instead of being trapped under a manager who thinks “reliable” means “able to perform the same way every day no matter what.” That matters. It does not cancel out the exploitation, but it is also not fake just because it is politically inconvenient.

And delivery itself is not some inherently decadent evil. Sometimes people live alone. Sometimes they are sick. Sometimes they are disabled, exhausted, overwhelmed, grieving, overloaded, or recovering from something else - perhaps the stress and fatigue induced by their own job. Sometimes they need medicine, groceries, or a meal that will actually unplug their sinuses instead of whatever generic community-care slop someone thinks they should be grateful for. Humans are allowed to need specificity. “Food” is not the same as “the food I can actually eat right now.”

A serious labor critique would ask how to make delivery work safer, better-paid, less tip-dependent, less car-dependent, less algorithmically punitive, and less precarious. It would ask what kinds of flexible, accessible work should exist for people who cannot thrive in conventional employment. It would ask how cities could support bike delivery, worker cooperatives, public infrastructure, and real protections without simply replacing one bad system with a moral sermon about how nobody should ever want takeout.

But a lot of the discourse does not do that. It treats convenience itself as suspicious. It treats wanting flexible work as false consciousness. It treats the needs of disabled people, immigrants, and other people who can't fit into traditional employment structures as details to be swept aside in favor of a cleaner political image.

I guess the opinions of delivery workers only count when they are politically convenient.

targetedknowledge

alex-and-nova420

made this into a gif bc i liked it so much. shark Denied

rabbitkinglune777

cool. another black child died in a hate crime

rabbitkinglune777

A South Carolina jury on Monday found a store owner not guilty of murder in the 2023 shooting of a Black 14-year-old.

apparently the murder happened in 2023 after doing some research but the murderer has been found not guilty.

black children get murdered and become victims of hate crimes every fucking day. this is ridiculous

rabbitkinglune777

im posting this here despite the website being extremely white centered, I want people to understand how in this country it's basically ok to murder and victimize black people, especially women and children in the name of "self defense" and white America will reward you for your antiblackness.

dragongirlsweetie

boss makes a spider i make a slime. that's why i . thas why, tthats why i uhhh. t. thawhy

dragongirlsweetie

t.gats why i can't think up an end to the rhyme

GET BACK TO WORK

The duality of "If you even imply that being aro or ace condemns someone to a sad and lonely life I will fucking fight you"

and

"being aro and ace is the most isolating thing I will ever experience"

theprideful-deactivated20251201

i think the tags are important

myheadisfullofholes

This.

#yeah I've reblogged this before but

Every day I handle more money than I will ever make. Every day.

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht.

I’m not worth the cost of a watch.

i wrote this while i was working at orlando’s walt disney world parks.

i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.

as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.

disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.

at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.

i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.

i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.

we are both worth more than the watch, anyway.

i think every publisher should have to institute a ban on books that fail what i’m calling the “little life” and “what else?” tests

for reference.

necropolistheatre

#ironically while this is decent advice its phrased so badly that it sounds like bad advice#and like that teacher was being cruel for no reason which is par for with writing teachers#it shouldn't be ''what else''#bc that sounds a lot like ''so what'' and saying that to anyone about the death of a loved one IS cruel#**BUT**.#big but here.#but. what else means what other aspects of it do you want to describe. what does it *mean* to you and to the reader#what emotions did you feel. what emotions do you want your reader to feel. what does it *mean*#what meaning have you found in her death and in writing about it.#the little life one depends on the type of creative writing youre doing#bc establishing a life for say a protagonist in fiction is actually important#its important to set up both motivations and a starting stage to contrast to an end stage#tbh. most if not all good writing advice cannot be delivered in zippy little sentences like this#bc writing like all art is as varied as the human experience itself.

prev's tags @storm-of-feathers

its pride month and im very burnt out from working in healthcare however i do love it for the ambiguity the uniform/masks offer. had a conversation with a patient after seeing him for a day or two where he was like

"Sorry, I don't mean to offend--"

Which of course, I brace for hell, since he is around 60, and i am a gangly cryptid that people usually struggle only to find the right slur to apply to. But i dutifully keep my work voice and go "nah nah, don't worry, what can I do?"

He hits me with "Are you--uh, I've been saying 'thank you ma'am' but are you... okay with that? What should I call you?"

And i live in a small conservative pocket within one of the most liberal states in the US, so my experience in public is varied. People have guessed, they've gone with she, he. they, they've awkwardly avoided it, but no stranger had ever asked me.

So i panicked and chuckled. This felt kind of like walking into a fake tumblr post. I said "Oh, you can call me whatever you want, its fine."

Any cis person would probably sound a little insulted. i knew i was confirming some kind of gender fuckery, but giving him the out that he didn't have to change anything. Fucker kindly smiles though, and like. Pounces. Asks, much more confidently, "But would you prefer sir? What are your pronouns?"

He's on script now, I'm astral projecting to a different plane where i'm a bug on a well lit microscope and my throat's a little tight all the sudden. I say, "Oh. I uh--I use they/them."

I use they or he, but 'they' is the language curveball. I know this, which is why i usually just let people use whatever. He nods, and I choke out (because its been a bad bad day, autoimmune flare pain on top of record high patient numbers) "Thanks. No one... has ever asked me. Have a good day."

He told me the same, I booked it, because the dim room was hiding watery eyes but not for much longer. Got it together in a nearby closet (ha) and moved on.

Came back later on in the evening because I had promised to visit when his wife was there earlier in the day. She's sweet, he's sweet, I do my usual spiel, he avoids any 'ma'am' studiously, but on me going to head out again, hits the dilemma of having no polite substitute for 'ma'am' or 'sir' that isnt gendered in some subtle way, and he's fucking trying, but this is not second nature obviously.

So what comes out is "Have a wonderful night, Them!"

Beaming, proud, right next to his extremely confused wife, who he seems to have not outted me to (nice) who now thinks he's probably having a stroke (funny, but not nice lmao)

Anyway, tldr, not adding to the well-meant bigot strawman theory, man wasn't a bigot, it was just. Nice, that in a sea of alt, visibly queer or vocally liberal people my age or younger who never thought to ask or just didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of stumbling through it... some lone dad guy decided 'good enough' wasn't enough and volunteered to correct himself.

Life with a clingy pet pigeon

So here i introduce you all to my pet pigeon, Bonjiri :) (it means chicken butt)

Daily affirmations for tesla owners: your car is ugly as hell and everyone hates you

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