printing this out and putting it on my wall for 2026
sheepfilms
occasionally subtle

roma★

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Misplaced Lens Cap
YOU ARE THE REASON
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

#extradirty
KIROKAZE
Cosimo Galluzzi
Acquired Stardust

Love Begins

Andulka
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
dirt enthusiast

Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily

titsay
hello vonnie
seen from Poland
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seen from United States

seen from United States
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seen from Maldives

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@unusualshrimp
printing this out and putting it on my wall for 2026
Shout out to the clover, the dandelion and the daisy. The triumvirate of springtime childish whimsy. WHO is doing it like them
At the moment you make a critique of patriarchy suddenly all men are black brown disabled mentally ill poor immigrant queer refugee polyamorous diabetic toothless from a developing country and all women are white rich warlord 1stworlders
they should invent a high ponytail that doesn’t give me a headache and they should invent a low ponytail that doesn’t make me look like a miller’s apprentice going off to enlist in the continental army
I should be doing more to appreciate the lack of marvel movies in today's popular culture. I once yearned for marvel movies to have this level of irrelevance. They used to feel almost ozymandian, like an empire that had no beginning and no end. and now tony stark iron man is naught but two vast and trunkless legs of stone.
“Subverting” Catholic art? Oh, okay. I see, you think this has nothing to do with you. You log onto the internet and you post about how “Wound of Christ” from Psalter and Prayer Book of Bonne de Luxembourg, attributed to Jean le Noir, c.1349, for instance, looks like a vulva because you're trying to tell the world that you enjoy Catholic art and imagery in an alternative, queer, risqué way that challenges Christian beliefs. But what you don't know is that that stigma isn’t just a vulva. It's not just a mandorla. It's not just yonic. It's actually intentionally erotic. And you're also blithely unaware of the fact that around 1297, Saint Angela of Foligno experienced a vision of Christ himself, who called her to put her mouth to the wound in his side and lick the freshly flowing blood. And then I think it was Saint Catherine of Siena who drank blood and a clear liquid from the wound before receiving a ring made from Christ’s foreskin? And then graphically erotic encounters with the side wound of Christ quickly showed up in the writings of eight different mystics. And then the yonic interpretation of the stigmata filtered down through the illuminated manuscripts and then trickled on down into some pseudo-intellectual corner of the internet…where you, no doubt, fished it out of some Pinterest board. However, that interpretation represents hundreds of years and countless visions of religious ecstasy. And it's sort of comical how you think that you've come up with an idea that exempts you from Christian theology when, in fact…you're posting an image that was sexualized for you by the very Medieval saints you think you’re so different than…from “subverted” Catholic art.
turning 22 will have you saying insane stuff like "my knees hurt" and "i need to figure out what's for dinner tonight" and "i should rewatch supernatural." to name a few.
i’m pretty calm and understanding but if i say “please don’t touch me” and you proceed to purposefully touch me, natural instinct will kick in and the large raptor which operates this machine will bite your fucking hand off
the lion is trying not to concern himself with people misinterpreting a movie he liked
The Princess Bride (1987)
the part of adulthood that no one ever warns you about is the amount of surfaces you need to acquire to put your things and trinkets on
has anyone considered that it was probably her house too. where else was she supposed to put her chintz?
I like this question because I think it really gets at the power dynamics at the center of the poem!
The poem frames "him" as subordinate in several ways, not just to the narrator ("i fuck him on the floor": not that getting fucked is inherently subordinating, but the narrator has all the agency in the phrase, "he" doesn't decide what happens or where) but also to "his wife". She has filled the house with chintz, meaning it wasn't his decision or his actions. "Filled" is also a choice of words that suggests that there is no space for him in the home: the only place left for him, not already filled, is the floor. To me this framing invokes the trope of the henpecked husband, whose wife has taken dominion over the home and who has ceded its control to her because it, as the domestic space, is "supposed" to be hers.
This trope, of course, is misogynist in its normative rendition: it reinforces gender essentialism, it erases the significant material benefits such "henpecked" men derive from the domestic labor of their spouses, and it dismisses women's expressions of suffering and attempts at negotiating terms for their relationships as "nagging." In the narrator's dismissal of the wife's possessions as "chintz" (frivolous, feminine, contrasted with what is "real") we can see this same misogyny at play.
The narrator's misogyny, and the central fact of the poem which is that the husband is getting fucked by someone other than the wife, quite possibly flip the power dynamics of the poem on their heads. The wife is now subordinated: both by her social marginalization based on gender (a marginalization which drives her into the home and confines her there, like OP so cogently points out! As "he" has run out of room in the home and can only get fucked on the floor, so has she run out of room socially; the only place she can control and make decisions like filling it with chintz is the home), and by the narrator who is fucking her husband in her home.
There's an additional dynamic in reading the narrator as male, which most readers seem to have done: it invokes the particular, bitter misogyny that men-loving-men sometimes direct at women expressing femininity. There's an envy to it, of course--straight and straight-passing women get to (are forced to) express desire for men, have sex with men, marry men, love and be loved by men. His wife gets to be his wife: the narrator gets to fuck him, in their home. Straight and straight-passing women also get to (are forced to) perform femininity: they can buy chintz and decorate with it, without being devastatingly punished for it like people presumed to be men are from the time they're babies. The envy mixes with misogyny to produce disdain, disgust, dismissal. We can read the narrator fucking him on the floor of their home as an expression of power and dominance (again, not that the fucking has to mean the narrator is topping, or that topping is inherently dominant, but the phrasing is stark: "i fuck him", the narrator acts upon him as an object/recipient), not just over him but over the wife in absentia as well.
Noting that "to keep it real" is AAVE, we can also introduce race as a potential lens; is the narrator, despite their dominant language, subordinated based on race in this dynamic? Is the narrator not just claiming a dominant role, but perhaps also stereotyped and limited into it as a Black person? Is the disdain of the chintz also an expression of class difference, of a rejection of the display of white wealth on the part of the wife? This is pretty speculative, of course: the use of AAVE could also be appropriative, which would suggest another tactic by the narrator to lay claim to masculinity and toughness, since non-Black people often use AAVE to try to invoke racist stereotypes of strength, violence and resilience.
I think one of the things that makes the poem so compelling for being so short is the struggle at the heart of it, this complicated jostling for power between three people and their actions over time (the wife "has filled" the house, in the past: the narrator fucks him in the present, perhaps in the habitual). Who controls the house? Who controls "him"?
Great poem, great discussion question, love everyone in this bar <3
has anyone considered that it was probably her house too. where else was she supposed to put her chintz?
[ID: A twitter/x post made by Audrey with the username @ plegmme that says: Teacher: Ok class today we're removing our names (person whose name is blank): How strange... I feel so free. The post was made on 6:03 PM on may 6 2026 and has 253K Views]
Conditions Apply [ 10 colors ]
[ID: A pixel art animation showing a dimly-lit traffic scene as precipitation falls. Through a windshield already speckled with droplets lies a gloomy highway, two or three lanes wide and framed first by powerlines on either side, then by dark, rising hills or forest. It's still daylight, with the sky a dull but warm slate-colored haze. Snow flutters down, but doesn't accumulate much. Flakes catch the red glow of tail lights and cause ripples in the water on the asphalt. Four cars, a van, and a truck are arrayed beyond the windshield, tail lights the brightest part of the scene. The cars are stationary, with the only movement, apart from the water being the blinking right turn signal of a car in the middle of the pack. /end ID]