So last month I got hit by a car and died right. Which I didn’t initially realize until I watched some guy haul my body into his pickup and drive off. Which, being that it’s deep in rural Michigan, I assume means my body will make some venison jerky and maybe some wall decoration, and I’ll be resigned to being one of hundreds of deer ghosts floating around Saginaw, which is w/e. But then I find out the guy works at a taxidermy shop or something, and he’s actually pretty good at stuffing and mounting deer carcasses, which I come to find out when I find myself face to face with my old body in the shop window. So naturally, I figure since ghosts need to possess something to interact with the living world and etc etc etc the most logical thing to do is to possess my own body, since it’s basically a statue of myself. And a little surprisingly, it actually fits like a glove. Like, since it’s my body, it feels like stepping right back into place. So I get out of town and back to my herd, eventually. And that’s where the trouble starts coming into it, because after I get settled again, I don’t know how to explain to everyone else what feels so weird. Like since I can move my body and do everything I used to do, it’s functionally the same, like nothing happened. Or it SHOULD be, so I don’t know how to explain how it’s NOT. But it’s just hard to explain it to someone who’s never been hit by a truck I guess
I’ve been watching Danny Phantom and I get it. I get it now.
This show loves to make some offhanded comment, not a hint of consideration or concern in its tone, and just moves on without addressing it like that wasn’t the most creatively horrific concept this side of Nickelodeon. Shit makes up wackass lore on the spot and then disregards it immediately after, asks fascinating questions then looks at you funny when you try to answer them.
I now fully understand how this show has legions of fans dedicated to taking this somewhat mid cartoon and running so far with the implications of the premise they created an entirely different show that’s so much more interesting I’m upset it’s not real.
Scottish government currently has a bunch of ads up to get screened for lung cancer, but for some reason they’ve decided to personify cancer as some sort of gothic butch milf and I’m obsessed with her
I know a large number of people horny for “Smoke” more than 30 years after the anti drug “cartoon all stars” special :)
when cishet guy friends tease me about being a lesbian and ask how i “know” i’m gay i like to go “well have YOU ever had sex with a man?” and when they say no (they always say no) i go “then how do you know you’re not into men?” and like… what IS it with how insecure cishet men who are scared of gay thoughts always assume they would bottom. like they talk like that’s the inevitable outcome if they were to ever get bicurious. today i hit these two guys at work with a “what, are you scared?” and they frantically described to the most detailed prophetic visions of the biggest burliest bear topping them to death. which could mean nothing
Colloquially known as the ‘Bramblepelt’, this territorial species of floron is covered in a thick brown outer coat of thorns for the majority of the year. It sheds this coat in the spring.
i feel like 95% of queer discourse on the internet could be solved by either going outside and talking to real people or recognizing that sometimes you just have a shitty experience and it doesn’t mean anything deeper than that
“the queer community focuses too much on alcohol and drugs we need places to gather that aren’t the club” look up local queer community gathering places or volunteer opportunities. check out pride, they usually have groups there who are looking for more queer people to knit and read books with. they may even have booths and sign up sheets. go outside. also maybe consider going to the club anyways. just get a coke and chill out or some shit. who cares
“polyamorous people are all annoying and cringey and keep trying to push their relationship style on other people” have you ever met a polyamorous person in real life? or are you going off of internet memes and people on dating apps you were already swiping left on anyways? maybe meet more polyamorous people. or just better ones that you like more.
“bisexual people love to date gay individuals to experiment and then discard them for a privileged hetero relationship when they’re done” you had a bad experience and are taking it as gospel about an entire community. disentangle yourself from the narrative that there is a demographic of people that exists just to use and discard you.
“the queer community systemically hates men. I feel less valuable and my friends treat me like a gender traitor after transitioning” go outside and get better friends that aren’t transphobic assholes while you’re there. meet other trans people. “but these friends were also trans!” trans people can still be transphobic assholes. you had a bad experience. get better trans friends.
“asexual people are taking over the community and making it hard for me to meet other queer people that want hookups/i don’t want to share a community with these people” then don’t. go outside. go to the club. actually talk to people for real. try spending time in a community where you have the space to talk about sex. you are not going to get invited to the fun trans orgies by talking about your fandom guys on the internet and not putting any real physical effort into meeting people.
“everybody in the trans community is obsessed with sex and kink, there are no places for people who just want to talk about their gender and transition” have you even met any of these so called sex obsessed freaks. consider trying to start a conversation with them about gender and transition instead of writing them off because you don’t like their sexual habits. stop being an asocial weirdo. talk about the things you want to talk about. go outside.
“why do queer people keep inviting me to their improv groups. everyone assumes that because i’m gay i must want to do improv” this one is true actually. put on the jesters cap gayboy
“Society idolizes cis gay men, they’re barely even discriminated against nowadays, they’re like the straight people of the-” GET. OFF. THE. INTERNET. GET OFF THE INTERNET. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT A VAST AND DIVERSE COMMUNITY YOU ARE NOT A PART OF. YOU FEEL UNSEEN AND UNDERVALUED. GO OUTSIDE. MAKE AN EFFORT TO MEET THE PEOPLE WHO WILL LOVE YOU. STOP TRYING TO CODIFY YOUR PERSONAL SUFFERING INTO A EULOGISTIC MANIFESTO FOR THE PEOPLE IN YOUR COMMUNITY WHEN YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN MADE THE EFFORT TO MEET THEM.
People in the past liked having colorful clothes, too! And the cost of (local) dye was pretty low compared to the labor required to spin fiber into thread, let alone all the other steps in making clothes.
Names have power, so the more people who share the same Name, the more powerful they are. The Wizard School was prepared for their 213th Merlin. What they weren’t prepared for was their first Bob.
The council of elders had all gathered around their newest inductee to the academy. Some had ventured from distant lands with intrigue in their hearts, while others were there to bring back news that would dispel rumors in their homelands. Most of the elders, however, were there for safety.
There was chatter among them, disbelief that the academy would even dare accept such an individual into its ranks. The words did little to reach the new student’s ears, as focused as they were on the task at hand.
“O-okay, Bob.” The arbiter stood in the center of a recessed arena meant for only the grandest of magic duels, his trembles barely visible beneath his robes. “You know the basic incantation and the motion. Now, please …” The arbiter raised a staff, its surface glowing violet in preparation to defend himself. “Light the candle.”
Bob, who knew none of the faces watching him, stood before the candle. It was a tiny stump of wax with a pitiful wick sticking out of the top, placed gently in the center of a rickety wooden table. He’d overheard snippets as he’d been escorted to the arena, some higher-ups calling for the cheapest, flimsiest table that they could spare—something about them not wanting to waste quality materials.
Bob raised the thin stick in his hand. The arbiter had called it a wand, but it looked like little more than a twig in his careless, calloused hands. He feared too tight of a grip would snap it.
“You sure I know it?” Bob raised his hand, oblivious to the collective flinch that spread through most of the spectators. “‘Cause, I mean, I feel ridiculous just wavin’ this thing around.”
Bob gave the wand a few flicks and swishes, causing the arbiter to shout.
“Please!”
Bob stopped. The arbiter heaved out a sigh.
“Please, stop waving it around so carelessly.”
“See? Told you I look like a fool.”
The arbiter glanced to the side, sweat beading on his brow. “Y-yes. Of course. But all students look like fools at first. So, please demonstrate.”
Bob grumbled but ultimately said nothing. He was, after all, used to looking like a fool. He’d always been the butt of the joke around the office, and every time, it felt like management used him for the more menial tasks. Bob really didn’t care much. Money was money, after all.
This, however, was different. If he learned even a little bit of magic, then he’d be able to prove that he wasn’t a fool. He could laugh alongside them instead of being laughed at.
“Here goes.” Bob raised the wand, pointed it at the candle, and gave the tip a little flick. “Incende.”
The candle lit on fire. As did the table. And the grass beneath it. And the air above it. Bob gaped, staring at the rising vortex of fire that he’d conjured. There were no words that he knew to describe the sight. But, oddly enough, there was no heat.
Moments later, the vortex dissipated, leaving behind a thoroughly impressed Bob and a frazzled arbiter in singed robes.
“Did I do it right?” Bob asked, looking at the tiny flame that clung to the candle’s wick.
The arbiter nodded once, loosened the grip on his staff, and sunk to the ground, defeated. “Welcome to the academy, Bob.”
Not my white ass locked in the duke’s dungeon again because I fucked his favorite jester 😩
I didn’t know he was so territorial over the silly little guy 🙄
Pro Tip: Avoid this in the future by inviting the king to your chambers and presenting the situation as;
“ Just warming him up for a surprise threesome. You looked so stressed, sire, so let us help you relax.”
The Duke would, at best, be the fourth
The Duke’s wife is the third from time to time, and I feel like he’s not gonna be happy about that
And most importantly, the Duke is a fuck boi, he’s not invited
Ah, but I said the king, my good wizard!
If you get the king in on this, the duke can do nothing without risking insulting his monarch.
This could not possibly backfire!
In fact, I’ll go perform this right now and report back my success shortly.
Dungeon
Welcome to the club
surely the duke can’t catch all of us????
Gonna try hitting up the jester when the duke goes out for another raid and report with results 👍
Dungeon.
Wow. I don’t respect anyone in this thread.
feels like somebody’s mad they didn’t get the chance to fuck the duke’s favorite jester
Make a pass at the jester and there’s always a chance
That you’ll be be doing that old “chained in the dungeon” dance
I was inspired
I think the duke and the jester need to have a talk about the exclusivity of their relationship because they both seem to have very different ideas on the matter
here’s the closeted furries “hey man… can u bum me a cig” and “the one uncle nobody invites to the family reunion but SOMEONE keeps telling him where it is anyways”
if you want an idea of what john is like, imagine hau from pokemon sumo
ALSO the ppl who kept asking me for trans thomas art, HERE he’s trans in this au (;
here’s the closeted furries “hey man… can u bum me a cig” and “the one uncle nobody invites to the family reunion but SOMEONE keeps telling him where it is anyways”
if you want an idea of what john is like, imagine hau from pokemon sumo
ALSO the ppl who kept asking me for trans thomas art, HERE he’s trans in this au (;
I lost weight when I went on my medication initially because it made me very sick and when I told people that was why, more than a couple would say stuff like “I wish I could get some of that” like you want a weird disorder that is awful and to be violently ill? just to be skinnier?
“After I got the biopsies, they did another mammogram. And I had to have my shirt off. And I was standing there at the machine. And the technician said, oh my gosh, you have such a flat stomach. What is your secret? And I was like, oh, I’m dying.“
-Tig Notaro
More proof that the ideal of thinness never had anything to do with health.
this is moonlit mane but her TRUE PACK NAME is FIERCE FANG and one day the wolves will howl for her and she’ll run to them and they’ll accept her into their pack just you wait and see
you ever see shit that makes you think “i know i’m very online but i’m not online enough for this one”
One time I saw a Tumblr ask that said something along the lines of “You posted a picture of the sky and now people can use that information to track down where you took it.” and I was like “I just got online and I feel like I should get off now.”
…at this point i’m sorry to introduce…the egg spoon.
Even better news about German egg related gadgets… the Eierköpfer (it also has a super long German name), for when you need a guillotine to open your egg neatly
No offence to Germany but why are you guys so fucking insane
nothing to see here. Just normal feelings about egg.
The guillotine device from a couple of reblogs above is der Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher
das Ei (pl. die Eier) = egg
die Schale = shell
sollen = to be supposed to
der Bruch = crack, fracture
die Stelle = site, place, location
die Bruchstelle = site of fracture
die Sollbruchstelle = predetermined breaking point
verursachen = to cause
-er =suffix to turn a verb into a noun (genus m)
der Verursacher = causative agent
der Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher = device to cause a predetermined breaking line around the perimeter at the top of a boiled egg so it can be opened neatly
Also: Eierwärmer, egg warmers to keep the eggs warm during a long Sunday breakfast. They are often handmade and knitted or crocheted in a decorative shape, but they can also be bought. Popular as a gift for Easter.
…I never considered that we might be the only ones doing this
wdym thats only grrman i dont believe this we are not the autistic egg country all yhat is NORMAL and NESSECARY and good brrakfast eggs are DIVINE
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