they called him debussy bc his compositions fucked so supremely
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@ultraqueer
they called him debussy bc his compositions fucked so supremely
i love writing out numbers and then putting them in parentheses like "one (1)" even when i dont need to i think its funny
has anyone considered that it was probably her house too. where else was she supposed to put her chintz?
when you're feeling full hater mode about a piece of media but you know one of your beloved mutuals enjoys it
no offense but….kindness and being polite is really underrated some of y’all are so unnecessarily mean and i dont understand why
found out there’s another nb person working on this show when they came up to me after tech and said they were sorry for how much I’ve been being misgendered… it’s the little things
you can’t talk about vampires and their views on menstrual blood anywhere else besides here. On account of the stigma
stigma fangs in your pussy. LOL
truly one of the worst feelings is when you’re bone deep exhausted and it’s late as hell but your brain refuses to stop going like a neurotic and incredibly determined hamster on its wheel so you find yourself laying on but not in your bed with the lights on unable to sleep
dude, this is really scary, and liminal as well. It's like the bathrooms
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
recollections
porn is bad because [christian talking point] and [alt-right study] and [misunderstood neurochemistry] and of course [feature of capitalism]
thank you SO MUCH for reminding me about [feature of patriarchy] and [problem caused by lack of kids' sex ed] random tumblr user in the notes! louder for those in the back!
The adult content warning on this post is really just the icing on the cake
[to the tune of barbara manatee from silly songs with larry the cucumber (veggietales)] 🎶sword of damocles (damocles, damocles)🎶
the sinister sniler
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.
its so much and its dishonest work
employment