“the video game man isn’t real” TO YOU. i’m married to him though

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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
occasionally subtle
Mike Driver

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if i look back, i am lost
macklin celebrini has autism
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$LAYYYTER

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@the-jackalope-knows-all
“the video game man isn’t real” TO YOU. i’m married to him though
was at the public pool yesterday and i kept looking around at all the women with fat and rolls and stretch marks and discolouration and cellulite and scars and thighs that bounce and bellies that jiggle and it's like wow. literally Everyone has these features that society is trying to convince us are evil and unnatural. idk it just really put things into perspective for me. highly recommend checking out your local public pool
some of you are not cis and the thing is that you don't even have to do anything about it. you can just be like "damn that's crazy" and move on with your life. you don't have to change your name. you don't have to change your pronouns. you don't have to choose which flavor of not-cis you are. you don't have to change your wardrobe. you don't have to come out or cut your hair or reinvent yourself. you can just be like "huh neato!" and let that be that. you don't owe anyone a performance of your queerness. not even other queer people. ok that's all thank you and goodbye
I have never read or watched Death Note and i know the whole ‘book that kills people’ premise but from all the shit i see on here it seems to be two teenaged boys acting out this scene over and over
We love a BIG SCARF in this home
There's simply no argument or logical explanation that could sour the appeal of Big Fucking Scythe As A Weapon for me. Like no I don't care it wouldn't make for an optimal weapon, because have you considered : Big Fucking Scythes are Cool and Badass
I think more non binary characters should be fat
fat and black and brown 👍🏾
kinda tired of non binary being tied to skinny androgyny that's mostly white. I say that's as a non binary transmasc/boy thing who's fat and black.
being non binary can look like anything and anyone but especially individuals who have different body types outside of thin. they can have body/facial hair too. show up for all enbies.
the brothers Area
Kelp gull (Larus dominicanus)
Goddamn. Okay
Did you have a kid in your neighborhood who always hid so good, nobody could find him? We did. After a while we would give up on him and go off, leaving him to rot wherever he was. Sooner or later he would show up, all mad because we didn't keep looking for him. And we would get mad back because he wasn't playing the game the way it was supposed to be played.
There's hiding and there's finding, we'd say. And he'd say it was hide-and-seek, not hide-and-give-UP, and we'd all yell about who made the rules and who cared about who, anyway, and how we wouldn't play with him anymore if he didn't get it straight and who needed him anyhow, and things like that. Hide-and-seek-and-yell. No matter what, though, the next time he would hide too good again. He's probably still hidden somewhere, for all I know.
As I write this, the neighborhood game goes on, and there is a kid under a pile of leaves in the yard just under my window. He has been there a long time now, and everybody else is found and they are about to give up on him over at the base. I considered going out to the base and telling them where he is hiding. And I thought about setting the leaves on fire to drive him out. Finally, I just yelled, "GET FOUND, KID!" out the window. And scared him so bad he probably wet his pants and started crying and ran home to tell his mother. It's real hard to know how to be helpful sometimes.
A man I know found out last year he had terminal cancer. He was a doctor. And knew about dying, and he didn't want to make his family and friends suffer through that with him. So he kept his secret. And died. Everybody said how brave he was to bear his suffering in silence and not tell everybody, and so on and so forth. But privately his family and friends said how angry they were that he didn't need them, didn't trust their strength. And it hurt that he didn't say good-bye.
He hid too well. Getting found would have kept him in the game. Hide-and-seek, grown-up style. Wanting to hide. Needing to be sought. Confused about being found. "I don't want anyone to know." "What will people think?" "I don't want to bother anyone."
Better than hide-and-seek, I like the game called Sardines. In Sardines the person who is It goes and hides, and everybody goes looking for him. When you find him, you get in with him and hide there with him. Pretty soon everybody is hiding together, all stacked in a small space like puppies in a pile. And pretty soon somebody giggles and somebody laughs and everybody gets found.
Medieval theologians even described God in hide-and-seek terms, calling him Deus Absconditus. But me, I think old God is a Sardine player. And will be found the same way everybody gets found in Sardines - by the sound of laughter of those heaped together at the end.
"Olly-olly-oxen-free." The kids out in the street are hollering the cry that says "Come on in, wherever you are. It's a new game." And so say I. To all those who have hid too good. Get found, kid! Olly-olly-oxen-free.
— Robert Fulghum, "All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten"
LIKE KIRKS ARE BORN TO DO
Worldbuilding exercise #137: imagining how answers regarding mildly obscure trivia about your setting's culture, geopolitics, and history would be phrased on a hypothetical episode of Celebrity Jeopardy (which for the purpose of this exercise exists in that world in precisely the same form as it does in ours).
The Subway Sun, Vol. XVII, No. 9, 1950. Illustration by Amelia Opdyke Jones ("Oppy").
Photo: NY Transit Museum via Bloomberg
‘beyond the scope of this paper’ is a dear friend to me. I Am Not Fucking Talking About That
Beautiful 🖤
One time a friend told me that if she wanted to have a chill night she would come to me and ask for tea and a book to read. I didn’t like tea at the time, but I always made sure my cupboards had them in case she needed a quiet night. One time I told my boss that I loved oranges, but couldn’t peel them because of my nails. For a year he made sure to peel me one at least once a week. Once my friends gave me a made up superlative of “most likely to have a pen they could borrow” and ever since I’ve made sure I always carry a pen with me. A long time ago, my high school librarian told me that no one would care what my grade in my sophomore chemistry class was if I’m bringing them doughnuts and asking them about their day.
Sometimes friendship is about carrying pens and peeling oranges. But the point is, surrounding yourself with people who you want to do the little things for. The point of it all is bringing in the doughnuts because you’ve found the people who deserve the doughnuts.
How sweet it is to be with people you enjoy taking care of