Please return us to a world where Notp and squick are used for a ship you don’t like instead of just making up a load of bullshit about how immoral it is or w/e lol
a short selection of concepts and phrases that used to be commonplace in fandom and we’d really benefit from making that a thing again:
NOTP: the opposite of an OTP (One True Pairing). It is a ship a fan strongly dislikes. The word is a portmanteau of ‘no’ and ‘OTP’ and thus is not a contraction of any particular phrase.
Squick: anything that is a deep-seated, visceral turn-off.
Squicks may be shared by many fans or be specific to one; one person’s kink may be another person’s squick.
YKINMKATO, or kink-tomato: Your Kink Is Not My Kink, And That’s Okay: used to indicate support for fannish diversity and to distinguish between disapproval or kink shaming and simply having different taste.
DLDR: Don’t Like, Don’t Read: a phrase used to warn against complaints about an aspect of fic or meta. A “live and let live” philosophy of fandom, which places the
responsability for avoiding content one doesn’t want to see on the side
of the fanwork consumer, rather that on the creator’s.
SALS: Ship And Let Ship: similar to the above specifically about shipping tastes.
YMMV: Your Mileage May Vary: a phrase used to acknowledge that any given individual’s personal opinion on the topic at hand may differ due to their own tastes, standards, values, experiences, etc.
As the OP points out, all of these crucially imply no moral judgment of what they’re designing.
(definitions lifted more or less wholesale from fanlore’s relevant pages)
bring the healthy fun back to fandom!
If ever a time comes when I don’t reblog this when it appears on my dash, assume I’m dead
Can we like, write the full phrases please, I don’t need more forgettable acronyms to remember
I can’t believe none of this post shows off the actual most unique feature of this squid!!
One eye of this species is normal, the other is more than twice as big and bugged out. Each has different sensitivity to light levels so she can aim one up (towards the brighter sky) and the other down (to the darker depths) as needed.
No other animal has this setup that we’ve ever found!! You can’t ignore her monocle!!!
*grabbing young queer people by the shoulders* listen to me. radical feminism is inherently transphobic. you cannot rehabilitate it or reclaim it or make it trans inclusive, I don’t care what the people on twitter who claim to be authorities on queerness say. the foundation of radical feminism is nothing but bio and gender essentialism and biphobia and aphobia and anti-kink rhetoric and intersexism and yes, misogyny. it does not offer a future, not for bi people, aroace people, sex workers, not for kinksters, or intersex people, cis women, or trans people regardless of gender and you should care about those people. it will never result in queer liberation because it is an ideology of exclusion and hatred. you gain nothing by buying into the idea that half the population is evil by birth or by transition. you gain nothing by acting like women are perpetual victims who can’t think for themselves and are tainted by their association with men. being a man or being attracted to them is not a sin. if we truly want to stand a chance of dismantling the patriarchy we actually NEED men on our side especially marginalized men. they are our allies.
the problem with terfs is not just transphobia, it never was, the radical feminism is also so unbelievably harmful. you cannot save it and it will not save you, stop drawing lines between queer people and join hands with them instead. remove people who are actually harmful, not innocent people who happen to have the wrong sexuality or gender or job. we get there together or we don’t get there at all. we need each other now more than ever. do not listen to those who seek to divide us even if they are queer. we all deserve so much better than the hell radical feminism pretends is a liberated future.
I do not blame anyone who fell prey to this rhetoric, I know it feels good to have a common enemy and lash out at those you think are siding with them however they do it, but men, especially marginalized men, are not your enemies. and it’s never too late to realize that and change for the better.
it’s me the WHITE PHARAOH 🤍 i have been KICKED from the pyramid due to CANCEL CULTURE and i need YOUR HELP please send pictures of your credit card front and back 💳 please help big friendly WHITE PHARAOH 🤍
Yknow when you see a post and you’re like “oh I have to reblog this for The Mutual” and then you scroll up and you see that the one who reblogged it is The Mutual
Does tumblr know about the animation union yaoi yet
The rest of tumblr might but I do not so please fill me in
Ok so I’m not fully informed on it but here’s the basic outline from what I’ve gathered:
The Animation Guild has been in negotiations with the AMPT (studios) to get better protections against AI, better pay, fewer layoffs, and generally more respect as an industry. To raise awareness, Animation Workers Ignited (not officially affiliated with TAG but a community-run account made to build support and organize) have been releasing animated PSAs starring Adam Conover (Adam Ruins Everything) as a fast-talking, suited-up organizer and Alex Hirsch (Gravity Falls) as a green-shirted, scared audience stand-in.
ALTALT
ALT
Sometime last night, Alex Hirsch and the director of the shorts shared exchange in the comments of their most recent PSA on twitter:
ALT
Which led to:
ALT
And finally, the art that kicked this whole thing off:
ALT
So, because this is the animation industry, everyone immediately jumped onto the new ship and started drawing fanart for it, ranging from silly doodles to full art pieces
im js a silly lil puppy :3 heheee head emptyyy ૮꒰>⸝⸝⸝<꒱ა eheheee no thoughts js fuzzyyy ໒꒰๑///๑ ꒱ა eeehehhe this is why i luv my sleepy medicineee
wwrong blog guys
please dont see this.
It’s been perceived.
hello tumblr user this was not supposed to go in my gimmick blog and not supposed to be seen by my mutuals but i did not predict it getting Found By Someone ???
Guys did I ever tell you about the time I completely accidentally ruined a professionally made campaign for Dungeons and Dragons thanks to a single roll
Please explain
Ok so we had to fight our way to the bottom of a castle to stop a group of cultists from summoning an Orc god to the world and we got there and the ritual was already going so I ran up to the god, who had already begun to manifest, and cast Finger of Death, which kills any target I touch if they fail a Fortitude roll. Since he was a god, he had a good constitution and would have certainly survived
Except the DM rolled a 1
and the god exploded
Honestly this is the best addition I’m gonna get to this post so thank you
I have a family friend who worked at our local Salvation Army headquarters as a a secretary. This particular office took all the Christmas donations for children in need, put them in a warehouse, and on a designated day the staff and their friends picked through them all, taking whatever they wanted. She saw people hauling away bikes donated for specific families. Some local children had hundreds of dollars of gifts donated in their name, and on Christmas they received three cheap things, items likely not even from the person who sponsored them.
My friend quit, and I’ve not given them a dime of my money since then.
Do not give to the Salvation Army.
Do Not. Give. To. Salvation. Army
My turn.
I’m a wildfire and disaster logistics specialist.
I deal with a lot of agencies who provide disaster relief.
I used to say the Salvation Army’s disaster services were the one (literally the ONE) good thing they did.
They would come in, set up a canteen trailer, make and pass out hot coffee and donated food in a disaster, usually being one of the first agencies to get there and the last to leave.
Then I found out.
Every time they did this, regardless of if they were actually invited or deployed by the agency in charge (usually FEMA, sometimes others) they would SELF-DEPLOY. Meanjng they would just show up. Ok. That’s not TOO bad, sometimes agencies have to take initiative and get there before the red tape is sorted out. BUT. They, after they left at the end of the incident, they would send FEMA or the host agency a BILL. They used one or two paid employees (usually the driver of the truck and a supervisor); and many VOLUNTEERS, but they would bill for EVERYONE’s Labor at standard federal rates. They would bill for the food they distributed even though it was all donated by another agency or private parties. They would bill for the coffee they made and the supplies. Except they would use electricity from the shelter location, water from donations or from the shelter, and in many cases, they would get the coffee and industrial filters DONATED, but bill for them at retail prices.
Don’t FUCKING give to the Salvation Army.
The Salvation Army is also ass to the workers. A good number of people join it, naively thinking that it’s doing good, and end up leaving cynical and beaten down. The management is hostile, if not outright abusive, and demand some ridiculous hours of it lower to mid-level staff. Don’t support these people.
Unsettling update
Find better local charities and shelters and give to them instead!
Also just for even more horrific context on the original twitter thread?
Salvation Army reached out to Milknmuffins and asked what shelter she’s at with the promise to address the abuse in it. She…ended up saying where she was. She was thrown out onto the street. It’s also all on Twitter.
They invited her to a personal talk so she could explain the situation in person.
And then they threatened her with a screenshot of a rape-threat made supposedly by her:
And then threw her out into the street while claiming she broke house rules that
So yeah, the Salvation Army is a bunch of entitled assholes that will treat the most vulnerable like shit if they dare try to do anything that makes them look bad
The “Fuck Salvation Army” posts are making the rounds again, so conisder this your reminder:
Do. Not. Give. These. Assholes. A. Single. Fucking. Penny.
Do not support them in any way, shape, or form.
‘Tis the season to say FUCK the Salvation Army.
I knew they were horrible but I didn’t realize they were that bad
villain going to the goon shelter to pick out a new henchman
this energetic and diabolical boy was rescued from a goon hoarding situation… he loves pulling levers, gloating, and turning cranks with great abandon. prefers to be the only goon. needs an active lair with plenty of enrichment.
now this fella comes with some baggage. his previous villain was going to have put down when he refused to perform unsedated human vivisection as a form of torture. one of our agents intercepted the execution and brought him to the goon shelter. would thrive in an environment of G or PG-rated villainry.
on the other hand, if you’re looking for something a little more… advanced… then this fine lady over here would make a great challenge for an experienced villain able to set firm boundaries. she will NOT be released to first-time villains; proof of prior henchpeople must be demonstrated before adoption approval. high prey drive. under no circumstances should she be left alone with children or small animals. must sign waiver releasing the goon shelter from responsibility if her behavior is deemed excessively depraved.
These two are pair-bonded and may only be adopted together. Up for anything, they are fiercely loyal to their employer provided their needs are met and they are permitted to hold hands. They look alarmingly similar to one another but it is undeterminable whether they are close blood relatives or lovers who choose to dress and style themselves in identical ways. Habit of finishing each other’s sentences with rhyming couplets; we have not attempted to train this out of them. Will answer to whatever names or titles you give them so long as they are complimentary and/or rhyme.
Will you help this goon find his forevil lair? He’s been returned to the goon shelter six times now but we refuse to give up on him. A vile little rat of a man, he’d be the perfect accomplice to someone willing to overlook his unfortunate heterosexuality. If gay-coding is not your style and you don’t expect it from a henchman, please consider giving this little guy a good home in your dastardly schemes.
This guy is not your typical goon. He was rescued from a high-kill shelter after being deemed unfit for henching. His deep baritone voice, his darkly handsome good looks, and his flair for the dramatic have made prospective employers pass over him time and time again, making him the longest resident of the goon shelter. But don’t judge a book by its cover—while his appearance and demeanor suggest “villain”, his real passion is taking orders and faithfully serving a master. If you’re secure in your villainry and not prone to jealousy, he may just be what it takes to turn your base into a lair.
i bought pre-cum strawberries today at the store and they were like twice as expensive but theyre so fucking good theres not any bad ones in the bowl and i dont have to waste time doing it myself now. so worth it
i meant to say pre-cut as in. they were previously cut before i bought them. but okay i eat cum strawberries now. whatever
“don’t look away” is a meaningless phrase. who are you benefiting by inundating yourself with misery porn?
DO something about things you care about. Go to a protest for something you believe in, if you can. Donate money to a cause if you have it to spare. Volunteer your time to help people if you have the energy. Write a letter to your political representatives if that’s something you can do. These are meaningful ways to try to make change in the world.
And then? don’t feel bad about insulating yourself from horrible news. Don’t make yourself look at images that make you feel sick. Don’t read endless things that depress you. Because frankly it gets harder to actually do the more you doomscroll. Reading constantly about things you can’t change because they’re happening at a systemic level or on the other side of the world is paralyzing. It makes you less able to help where you can.
I’m not saying be willfully ignorant. I’m not saying pretend horrible things aren’t happening. I’m saying don’t destroy your mental health going in-depth and cycling through horror after horror on your phone. I’m saying there is no virtue in making yourself experience other people’s traumas because mere awareness is not activism. you inflicting suffering on yourself is not activism.
doomscrolling is literally sapping your energy and focus away from doing anything useful to help other people. you can burn yourself out without ever lifting a finger by exposing yourself to all the bad news in the world and who does that help? no one.
“don’t look away” is a meaningless phrase. who are you benefiting by inundating yourself with misery porn?
DO something about things you care about. Go to a protest for something you believe in, if you can. Donate money to a cause if you have it to spare. Volunteer your time to help people if you have the energy. Write a letter to your political representatives if that’s something you can do. These are meaningful ways to try to make change in the world.
And then? don’t feel bad about insulating yourself from horrible news. Don’t make yourself look at images that make you feel sick. Don’t read endless things that depress you. Because frankly it gets harder to actually do the more you doomscroll. Reading constantly about things you can’t change because they’re happening at a systemic level or on the other side of the world is paralyzing. It makes you less able to help where you can.
I’m not saying be willfully ignorant. I’m not saying pretend horrible things aren’t happening. I’m saying don’t destroy your mental health going in-depth and cycling through horror after horror on your phone. I’m saying there is no virtue in making yourself experience other people’s traumas because mere awareness is not activism. you inflicting suffering on yourself is not activism.
doomscrolling is literally sapping your energy and focus away from doing anything useful to help other people. you can burn yourself out without ever lifting a finger by exposing yourself to all the bad news in the world and who does that help? no one.
My physics professor just told the class the wildest story from when he was in grad school about building a high voltage unauthorized Tesla coil with the ability to kill a man
No I’m still not over this - this man along with two other graduate students rigged a Tesla coil and a faraday cage without a budget and the arcs of electricity that came off of it hit things in the room like exposed gas pipes. He found a thick piece of plexiglass that he sawed into smaller pieces, he found a screwdriver that he filed down to a sharp point, and he reasoned that by charging the plexiglass with a shit ton of excess electrons and striking it with the screwdriver-ice pick immediately after flipping the coil off but before the energy in the room had a chance to dissipate, they could see the physical path of the conducted electricity as it conducted through the excess electrons.
These men rigged up an empty storage closet in their lab with the faraday cage and Tesla coil and ran their little experiment. My professor ran into the room the instant the coil was turned off, grabbed the grounded screwdriver-ice pick, and stabbed the plexiglass millimeters away from the edge where he could’ve missed.
And it worked.
This man captured a god damn lightning strike in physical media. That shape is from the electricity breaking through the structure of the plexiglass. That’s literally the conduction path.
Anyway I was talking to one of the lab instructors about it and she put her head in her hands and literally groaned. “I wish John hadn’t told you that story.”
Perhaps remembering their family, the things they couldn’t do, things they should have done, all the things they must do now and will have to do in the future. Everything in a small moment. It’s too much.
Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
…
I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
Fuck man
My mom likes to refrence a story she read
About a guy who escaped North Korea
He said living there was like living in a pot
And he grew up there, so he grew into the shape of the pot
But once he was out
And the pot was gone
He was still in the shape of the pot
And he had to work really hard to grow outside that shape
You forget what made you happy in favor of what kept you alive.
You forget what made
you happy in favor of
what kept you alive.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
there aren’t enough words in the english language to describe how much i hate the way that most schools kill creativity and originality because they think conformity will make you better suited to society
Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
…
I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
Fuck man
My mom likes to refrence a story she read
About a guy who escaped North Korea
He said living there was like living in a pot
And he grew up there, so he grew into the shape of the pot
But once he was out
And the pot was gone
He was still in the shape of the pot
And he had to work really hard to grow outside that shape
You forget what made you happy in favor of what kept you alive.
You forget what made
you happy in favor of
what kept you alive.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
there aren’t enough words in the english language to describe how much i hate the way that most schools kill creativity and originality because they think conformity will make you better suited to society
Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
…
I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
Fuck man
My mom likes to refrence a story she read
About a guy who escaped North Korea
He said living there was like living in a pot
And he grew up there, so he grew into the shape of the pot
But once he was out
And the pot was gone
He was still in the shape of the pot
And he had to work really hard to grow outside that shape
You forget what made you happy in favor of what kept you alive.
You forget what made
you happy in favor of
what kept you alive.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
there aren’t enough words in the english language to describe how much i hate the way that most schools kill creativity and originality because they think conformity will make you better suited to society
oh my goodness, one of dian fossey’s first close up observations with gorillas happened when she was trying to climb a tree to see them better, but so badly that by the time she’d gotten up the entire group had come out of hiding to look at her: “Nearly all members of the group had totally exposed themselves, forgetting about hiding coyly behind foliage screens because it was obvious to them that the observer had been distracted by tree-climbing problems, an activity they could understand.”
hello, fellow apes
The lead up to that sentence is gold:
[Image transcript: porch. The group had been day-nesting and sunbathing when I contacted them, but upon my approach they nervously retreated to obscure themselves behind thick foliage. Frustrated but determined to see them better, I decided to climb a tree, not one of my better talents. The tree was particularly slithery and, try as I might, no amount of puffing, pulling, gripping, or clawing succeeded in getting me more than a few feet aboveground. Disgustedly, I was about to give up when Sanwekwe came to my aid by giving one mighty boost to my protruding rump; tears were running from his eyes as he was convulsed in silent laughter. I felt as inept as a baby taking its first step. Finally able to grab on to a conveniently placed branch, I hauled myself up into a respectful semislouch position in the tree about twenty feet from the ground. By this time I naturally assumed that the combined noises of panting, cursing, and branch-breaking made during the initial climbing attempts must have frightened the group on to the next mountain. I was amazed to look around and find that the entire group had returned and were sitting like front row spectators at a sideshow. All that was needed to make the image complete were a few gorilla-sized bags of popcorn and some cotton candy! This was the first live audience I had ever had in my life and certainly the least expected.]
imagine some freakish not-a-human alien THING has shown up out of nowhere and is trying to get into your office building to study you. but it has no idea how to get past a revolving door. it tries for three hours. by the time it finally understands the concept of a revolving door and squeeze into the building everyone in the office is crowded into the lobby to watch and call helpful suggestions. it’s conclusively determined that the alien is definitely not a threat, except maybe to itself.
ALT
ALT
ALT
ALT
ALT
ALT
ALT
ALT
ALT
ALT
