A friend is doing a YouTube series on the effects of gender expectations on men and ways to battle those issues and be better people, and could really use some more eyeballs on this 💖
https://t.co/zXjrNJqP7s
@abbie-a-aaronson / abbie-a-aaronson.tumblr.com
A friend is doing a YouTube series on the effects of gender expectations on men and ways to battle those issues and be better people, and could really use some more eyeballs on this 💖
https://t.co/zXjrNJqP7s
Technically, I broke into the middle class around June of this year, when my hourly wage rose above the minimum threshold of what is “middle class” by a whopping $0.03. But realistically, I’m poor. Now, I’m not “living off food stamps and Medicare/Medicaid” poor, but given the cost of living in one of the most expensive cities in the country, scraping-the-bottom-of-Middle-Class is still poor. No two ways about it. I’m doing better than most Millenials, so long as you don’t look too closely. I live alone, in a house I own, my car is paid off, and my parents provide moral support, but not any other variety of support. I have a savings account that is regularly larger than my checking account, even after payday. I have a 401k. I have health insurance. That all sounds amazing, right? Well……. My home is substantially smaller than the average apartment in my city- well under 1,000sqft. If I include my tiny garage and driveway, I might crack that 1k. Maybe. With rotting siding, not a single light fixture, and zero appliances or furniture when I moved in. Poor people are well versed in the art of Craigslist/Scratch&Dent/Closeout shopping, in that order- the ‘fancy’ things I own are, at best, the stuff that would get dumpsterfied had my broke ass not shown up when I did. Mismatched shelves, furniture, and appliances are the aesthetic of my home, well short of the “old but well loved” ambience of Shabby Chic. This is Broke Ass Chic. Old stuffed chair splitting at the seams amateurishly sewn shut with waxed dental floss, you say? Fuck yeah, so long as it’s the kind of material where any stains vanish if you brush it in all one direction. Cat scratched all to shit? Toss a blanket over that armrest, it’ll be a'ight. I’ve become a fucking professional at what you normal people call “Efficient Living”. LED bulbs in every cheap-ass Walmart or curbside lamp, thermostat set to a bracing 65 in the notoriously brutal high-plains-winter and a sweltering 80 in the summer, high efficiency water taps on every faucet, nothing running and lights off during peak hours. Being a nocturnal person helps a lot in this regard- I turn off everything in the day because that’s when my ass needs to SLEEP, dammit. Stuff a pair of torn jeans around the window edges to block out the light- and, coincidentally, keep the cold air out too. My car is a cheap little hail-damaged affair, tiny enough to park in motorcycle spaces, and all-electric so I never have to buy gasoline. Bought it used years ago, when Tesla cars were still built out of recycled laptop batteries, and it was a late-model car THEN. Range on it is “I can get to work and back, so long as I don’t run the heater or a/c EVER”. Which, even in this city, is actually enough to get by. Most of the time. Provided all of my errands are on the same route- which, again, is Efficiency By Necessity, not by choice. Need to pick up dog food, get washer fluid, buy groceries, get furnace filters, have a couple keys made, AND get some new work clothes? Bet your ass I can do all that in 25 miles or less. But once I get home, there is ZERO possibility of going anywhere else that day. Good thing I’m not a social butterfly. When you are forced by circumstances to live on the margin-iest of margins, you learn to make do. Dog has a checkup this month? Guess I’m living off ramen for a while. Pick up a $1 pack of frozen veggies, toss half of it in as the water boils, that’s a meal right there. Not a GOOD one, but any food is better than no food. Everything has to fit that balancing act. Everything. Every single decision has to pass the “is there a cheaper way to do this?” test first. Sure, I COULD replace the chunk of carpet my dog uses every single time she throws up. Or, I could swing by the auto parts store and see if they have old floor runners they are throwing out. Sure, it’s dirty as fuck and covered in oil stains- just cut that section off and use the less-filthy side, toss over puke-stained carpet, and now if she gets sick again I can take that not-quite-runner outside and hose it off. Faucet dripping? I could hire a plumber, or put a big stock pot underneath and use the collected water for the houseplants, pet bowls, and some of that goddamn ramen. Power bill comes due, put it on the credit card and set an alarm to pay a piece of the minimum payment every single time a paycheck hits, because that’s way cheaper than a disconnect fee. Everything, everything, gets filtered through that calculus. If I need bread, it’s the day-old shelf. If I need cleaning supplies, it’s rubbing alcohol and peroxide. If I need dish soap, why buy a new bottle when the refill pack is $0.30 cheaper and I can just squeeze it into the old bottle, then slice the bag open and dunk it into a big pot full of warm water so as to use EVERY- FUCKING- DROP- of that goddamn soap. “Luxury item” means I personally know the person I’m buying it off of. Buddy from high school is moving and can’t take his beat up 20 year old coffee table with the broken hinge? Trade ya for a beer or three. When new electronic formats are released is a rare and wondrous bounty- DVDs are five for ten bucks in a big bin at the front of the store because with Blu-ray, nobody gives a shit if any shitty old DVDs go missing, and you bet your ass I’m going to spend half an hour scouring that tub for the movie I want with a broken case because that means I can talk them down a dollar. Go to the hardware store with a bucket and ask to fill it with sawdust, they’ll be glad to be rid of it. They don’t need to know that it makes good cat litter, even though you have to change it twice as often and fish out the splinters before you toss it in the litter box- it’s free, and that means that a little more hassle is a damn sight better than spending $8 for ACTUAL cat litter. And now the house can smell like pine fresh, rather than stale air and cat piss. Hash tag winning, right? Everything. Even social relationships. Every. Single. Thing. -Coworker draws my name for Secret Santa? $10 scented candle from the grocery store, please. Not only makes the house smell nice, but when it’s all burnt out I can clean it out, scrape off the label, and now I’ve got a wide mouth jar with an airtight lid. Fucking SCORE. You wouldn’t believe how useful they are. -Day trip up in the hills with the family? “Let’s stop at a gas station and get something to drink for for the road”. Scour the display cases for a beverage in a glass bottle- because glass bottles are dishwasher safe. Ain’t no coke bottle at the seven eleven gonna make it through a wash cycle without warping. Sidenote- this used to be Snapple’s time to goddamn shine, but they switched to plastic and the plastic bottle lids don’t fit over the old glass bottles. Bastards. -Going camping with the guys? I’ll bring the firewood if y'all bring the beer- nevermind said firewood is all the branches I cut off my trees this past year, with a sack full of dryer lint to get the fire going. -Got a date? Dog parks are free, and everyone loves dogs. Date number two? a quiet bar, on a weekday. There’s going to be specials. Date number three? The Greek joint or the Italian deli. Can get a good meal for pretty cheap there. Try and suss out in conversation if she’s on birth control, because if not I gotta get condoms before date number four. Date four? Netflix and chill, because it’s free, and I’ve used up all the money I can safely risk on this venture. Either she will take one look at the house, with the mismatched furniture and hand-me-down EVERYTHING and the fridge full of condiments and no food and run the fuck away, or she might be interested. No sense in spending more during the basic “can this person stand me” screening. There hasn’t been a date five since Obama’s first term. Poverty isn’t sexy. My dog? Shelter. My cat? Free Adoption Day. Cage for the other critters? Craigslist. Those critters, themselves? Rescued from curbside eviction. Got a cool flowerpot too, just had a chunk broken off the side. Turned it upside down, sanded the broken edge down, now it’s like a little terra cotta igloo. Fancy. Zip ties, wood glue, bungee cords, and a bulk pack of wooden clothespins: you can fix such a wide variety of shit with these things, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Duct tape is for suckers- the cheap ass 2 for $5 rolls don’t do shit, and the brand name is $4-$6 a roll- I can get 36 clothespins for that. Take 'em apart, you got a little metal springy gizmo AND a couple tapered wood shims. Score. Bandaids ain’t nothing but a chunk of cotton held on with glue-covered burlap, I can do that on my own for less. Cotton ball wrapped in electrical tape will do. Don’t have cotton balls? Pinch off the end of a cotton swab. Not a Q-Tip, those are expensive. Don’t have electrical tape? Old t-shirts that don’t fit are a gold mine. Cut a slice long enough to tie together, and voila- just make sure you still cover the wound with that cotton, never use only the shirt. You want to avoid getting blood on it as much as you can. It will stain, and homemade laundry soap isn’t good for blood. Paper towels cost money. Know what doesn’t? The napkins at the cafeteria at work. Take three a day, use one if I need to blow my nose, save the rest in a tin at home. Clean with those, then burn 'em. I could go on for days. Used motor oil from the car I had a decade ago- good garage door lube. Dropper some on squeaky hinges. WD-40 is ten bucks a fucking can now, after all. Sammich meat in the zipper bags is cheaper, but get ONE of the fancy name brand kind what comes in a container. Hey, now I got a container to put my sammich in. Use that same container until it literally falls apart. Only go shopping half an hour before the store closes. Means I am FORCED to stick to the list of things I went in for, because there’s no time to browse. Say now, look at all the produce and baked stuff and dented cans they are just gonna toss out! Bet I can talk them down in price a bit. Wilted celery is just as good when you toss it in a soup. Ramen soup. That cough is back. Chew up some altoids and breathe into a paper sack, WAY cheaper than cough syrup. That mole looks funny- burn it off with a cigarette butt. Broke off a chunk of fingernail, good thing the driveway is cement, just rub that fucker back and forth until the nail is nice and smooth. The bleeding will stop after a couple days. Super glue works great to close small wounds. In a house this small, there’s no space for anything that can only do ONE job. Run plain water with some vinegar through the coffeemaker, use that to clear slow drains. Coffee grounds through the garbage disposal cleans gunk, and makes the sink smell like Starbucks. I mean, I imagine it does. Not like I could actually go inside a Starbucks. Laundry soap is too expensive. A 25lb bag of soda ash cost $8 in 2009, a box of borax cost $2 a pound. I spent 20$ a decade ago, and I’ve never even come CLOSE to running out of laundry soap. Also works on glass stovetops and counters. Makes a great gift, just fill up a jar. A widemouth glass jar with an airtight lid. Scented fucking candles, man. I told you, I TOLD YOU that you wouldn’t believe how fucking useful they are. You can find safety razor handles on eBay for ten bucks. A pack of 30 blades on Amazon for 15. I scraped up some extra for a nice brush, and a little marble pestle that was missing its mortar from a kitchen store going out of business. Found a blade stropper at a thrift store. Shave whole face and head twice a month, strop blade every two, discard every six. Spent under $100 fifteen fucking years ago, STILL haven’t had to buy new blades. Fuck you, Gillette, and your seven-monkeyfucking-dollars-PER-CARTRIDGE Mach-8tEEn-turbo-hyper-schwifty whatever the fuck they’re on these days. Phone stops charging because the cable has gone all weak. Remember those clothespins? Wiggle the cord until the little lightning bolt comes on, clothespin that cable into place. That’ll last a couple months. Cell phone carrier got bought out four years ago- offered a free smartphone for customers of the old brand. The cheapest, barebones-iest, shittiest smartphones on God’s green earth. I still have it. Can’t update my banking app because there’s not enough space? That’s okay, uninstall facebook, check banking info or whatever, uninstall bank app, reinstall Lite version of facebook. Every time. Every. Single. Fucking. TIME. Computer acting up? Not surprising, I literally built it out of the bucket of spare components at my buddy’s house a decade ago. You know the one- the bucket of random electronics parts EVERY PC owner has somewhere. I bet he’s got much better junk in there now. Trade ya a beer? Or three? Craigslist A/C unit doesn’t have the oomph to blow cold air anywhere beyond the living room- I’ve got a random Home Depot bucket and a bunch of spare car parts in the garage, rigged up a heat exchanger. Put a “found on Craigslist” fan in front, now it’s an air cooler. Resourceful Man is Resourceful. Holy shit, 60 feet of steel baling wire on sale at the Ghetto-Ass Hardware Store (not the name brand ones). Fuck yeah! What’s it good for? EVERYTHING. No joke. Can’t reach something? Bend some wire into a hook shape. Stuck drain? Bend a a few feet of wire, feed down drain, if you feel something squish poke it hard, pull back wire a bit, poke hard again, follow up with hot vinegar water from coffee maker. Drop something under couch or behind stove or in between fridge and wall? Motherfucking baling wire. Nothing, NOTHING, can exist in this place unless it can do more than one thing. Everything by default MUST be useful. Things you don’t expect. Dish scrubber smelling funky? Now it can serve as a toilet scrubber. That spray bottle full of pet stain remover finally empty? Rinse it out and fill with rubbing alcohol to make cleaning jobs easier. finish off the milk jug? Rinse it out real good, poke a hole in the bottom, now you got a slow drip feeder for plants. Done with that jar of salsa you snagged from the company picnic? Rinse that shit out, scrape off label, now you got- say it with me- A WIDE MOUTH DISHWASER SAFE JAR WITH AN AIRTIGHT LID fuck yeah! Bottlecaps? Cram them into a bar of soap so it doesn’t sit flat on your sink and get that slimy shit all over. Leftover slivers of soap? Dissolve in hot water, mix with borax and soda ash, now you got laundry soap. Googled “uses for soap slivers”, found method for making laundry soap, now that’s TWO USES out of leftover soap bits. Everything that you don’t eat or shit out can be used at least once more. Everything. It’s not just about that one nook-and-cranny stuffed full of empty grocery bags you use as garbage bags. But, I mean, there’s those too. Did you know cigarette butts soak up a lot of water? And the residual nicotine keeps bugs away? Mix some in with your potting soil for your outdoor plants. Rodents hate the smell, bury them in the dirt around the exterior wall of your house, cover with tiles or dirt or whatever. Hey, did you know rodents hate steel wool, too? Now that completely worn out brillo pad under the sink has a second life, stuff that fucker into any mouse hole you see and seal it up like a Lilliputian version of the Cask of Amontillado. Everything can be reused. Because everything HAS to be reused. Because replacing it costs money, and I have exactly fucking NONE to spare. T-shirt no longer fits? Slice the torso into strips to use for bandages or tie downs, use sleeves as cleaning rags. Sock has got a hole in it? Dusting mitt. The other one too stretched out? Fill with dried rice, microwave for 30 secs, now you have a heat pack. Jeans finally wore through in the crotch? Fold, roll, stuff under exterior doors and/or windows. Remember that? I’ve mentioned it before. Poor people are resourceful as fuck, every minute of the day, in ways that upper middle class and WASPy white stay at home moms pay actual goddamn money for to buy uppity White Lady magazines full of “fun household tips”. Oh, the struggle is real. And I’m a straight white guy with no kids, I can’t even fathom the sheer insanity of having to deal with all of this on TOP of all the racist sexist bigoted bullshit that gets heaped on everyone that doesn’t look like me. I can lumber around my neighborhood at 3am in a hoodie and nobody is gonna say a fucking word to me. And thing is, I’m not oblivious. I’m educated. I know how to spot bullshit when I see it. And there’s SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much of it. Every time you look at a screen, of any kind, for any reason, there’s some bullshit trying to get you to hand over your money. Every time someone tells you there’s a simple solution for your problems, it’s bullshit designed to part you from your money. Every time. EVERY. TIME. Grocery stores are designed to manipulate people moving through them to buy more. Cereal boxes have cute cartoons with the eyes painted downward so they make eye contact with little kids walking by. Produce is stacked in huge piles because people tend to buy more if they SEE more, even though they won’t buy all of it and a little under half will get tossed out, but the half they sell is WAY more than they’d sell if they only stocked what people actually use. Everything is a fucking racket. Everything you know and love stems from someone with a lot of money somewhere deciding they need more of YOURS. And the thing is, there’s no way around that. There isn’t. Despite what the mangy hippy Freegan hobo tells you, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. You gotta pay somebody for every facet of your existence, and that somebody is ALWAYS richer than you. I may not like it, but that’s how it is, and I can- begrudgingly- accept that. What gets me is the lie of it all. And they are insidious, pervasive, and abso-fucking-lutely everywhere. I’ll prove it. I’m going to describe something in the next paragraph. Picture it in your mind’s eye. You’re outside a stadium, waiting to go inside. You’ve got tickets, you’re wearing your team’s jersey, you’re looking forward to watching the big game with snacks and concessions and tens of thousands of other fans. Then you see a guy walk right past the line. He’s carrying a piece of a cardboard box with the word “tikkit” on it in sharpie. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s been colored the team colors, poorly, with magic marker. He’s carrying a twelve pack of soda and an entire ham under his arm. And they wave him right in. Did that piss you off? Why? He’s holding a slice of tree pulp with writing on it, just like you. He’s wearing cloth with dyes embedded in it, just like you. But he gets waved in, so he gets to do the same thing YOU do, only he isn’t paying for it. And that’s bullshit, right? Except… why do you need the jersey you spent a lot of money on? Why do you need the expensive tickets, or super inflated concession snacks? Because of the lie you’ve been told- the lie that you need all that “stuff” in order to watch other people play a game in front of you. You could do it for free at home, but you are compelled to do it here, at this place, in those clothes, after paying to park and paying to enter and paying to eat in order to stare at a field too far to see clearly surrounded by thousands of total strangers you either love for being on your team or hate for being on the other team. Why? Because they lied to you so often for so long, you believed the lie. All of you who aren’t sports fans, you’re not immune to this either. Hey, D&D nerds (of which I am one)- who told you that the book of rules had to cost $40? Or that you absolutely had to have one to play? There are a ton of sites online that compile the rules. Shit, there are pages that will build a character sheet for you and roll your dice. But that feels wrong somehow, doesn’t it? To click a mouse instead of rolling physical dice. It’s exciting to find that rare sourcebook dedicated only to Bards in the store or on eBay, but finding a PDF of it online doesn’t sit right. Why does it bother you? Because they lied to you so often for so long, you believed the lie. Pet owners- you want to give your pets the best stuff, yeah? You go to the big pet store, to the section that has pictures of the same animal as your pet, and look for all the best products for them, right? I mean, it says on the label what animal it’s for, so it HAS to be safe and good for them, right? Except it isn’t. Toys marketed for birds are assembled with toxic hot glue that can form blockages in their delicate tracts. Rodent toys are built of indigestible and toxic plastics. Cats, who are obligate carnivores and can only eat meat, are sold food made from corn and wheat and soy. The doggy treat aisle is FULL of rawhide, which swells when it gets wet. Like, when a dog chews on it. Or swallows it. Some pet food is less than $1 a pound, some is $10 a pound, and it’s all made by the same company just with different names on the bags. What makes them think they can get away with this? Because they lied to you so often for so long, you believed the lie. Hey, gamers? Ever wonder why a PC can run a variety of games, but your console can only play games made for it, and cannot be modified or upgraded at all? You can’t turn a Playstation 2 into a Playstation 3, even though both are computers, made by the same company, only a few years apart. A PC can get a new graphics card when a new game comes out, but your XBOX is a bulky old paperweight when XBOX One comes out. Speaking of- why are there so many big name, high dollar, major hype games that only play on one console or the other? You want to experience them, you need to buy both consoles. PC gamers, you’re not immune either. Why is it you have to pay to buy a game- then pay every month that you want to actually play it? And some other person can arbitrarily decide your character’s name is offensive and pull it. Or something you did in game was not acceptable and wiped your character or account. It’s your game. You paid for it. You own it, right? Then why do you need permission to do what you want with your own property? In the cartridge days, when you bought a game, it was finished. If there were bugs, too bad- that’s just how the game is. Nobody ever released the same game next year with the holes patched up and said “here, pay me again for the finished pieces of the game you already paid me for!” But these days, that’s not just common- it’s the rule. A big a-list title that DOESN’T have extra DLC would get absolutely shunned. But, DLC and pre-order content and loot crates and all that shit is LITERALLY just the game developers making you pay them money to buy the game, then pay them more money to finish it. It’s no longer an ownership model, it’s a rental model. You never OWN anything, you pay money for permission to use it. Just like iTunes convinced you to pay them money to listen to music when they say you can, instead of owning an album and playing it whenever the fuck you want. Just like Uber convinced you to pay them to borrow a car, and a driver, when they say you can, instead of driving wherever the fuck you want whenever you want with whomever you want. Oh, but don’t get pissed at your Uber driver- everything that COSTS money, they have to manage on their own. Everything that MAKES money, Uber gets their hands on first before tossing a pittance to the drivers. “Side hustle”, “gig economy”, “share culture”- all of that? All of it means you as a consumer are literally just a sack of money they can take from until you break, and they’ve done such a damn good job of marketing it that you are GRATEFUL for it. They convinced you to happily hand over your own autonomy- and not just once. But repeatedly. Every time you use it. How? Because they lied to you so often for so long, you believed the lie. Here’s another scenario. A pretty girl and a handsome guy, mid 20’s, walking along a picturesque beach. He stops, they kiss, he kneels in the sand. She covers her mouth, trying not to cry from excitement, as he pulls a small box out of his pocket. He open it, and hands her a small, shiny, ball bearing. It’s not a joke, he’s very serious. Shaking with excitement and fear and vulnerability. In your mind, as you picture this, what happens? Is she happy? I mean, it’s actually more impressive from a technical standpoint than a gemstone. It’s just a particular kind of rock, dug out of the ground by some half starved black guy, so that rich white guys can hand him a nickel for it, slice it up all pretty, and sell it to poor to middle income white guys for a fucking fortune. A ball bearing would take a great deal of skilled workers and specialized equipment and rigorous testing and precise standards. And it’s actually useful. So why the shiny rocks, hinged upon the suffering of poor and desperate people, in order to make incredibly rich people even richer? They aren’t even valuable, really- they are literally only worth what people can be convinced to pay. If I tried to sell you a shard of glass for a thousand dollars, that’s insane- DeBeers wants to sell you a glittery rock for a thousand dollars, it’s a deal. Why? Because they lied to you so often for so long, you believed the lie. When the politicians and pundits and talking heads start clamoring about how there’s never enough money to feed school children, there’s never enough money to take care of the sick, there’s never enough money to house all our veterans, there’s never enough money for retired people who paid into the system all their lives…. yet, somehow, there’s SO MUCH MONEY they can cut taxes… guess what? That’s a lie. Poor people aren’t lazy. You can’t be if you’re poor, or you’d die. Poor people aren’t stupid- you can’t be, if you’re poor. You have to find a way to make every dollar stretch into ten, make every single item in your home that you don’t eat or shit out have multiple uses. You have to find a way to keep going, despite all the medical shit wrong with you, without a doctor. You have to find a way to stay sane, despite all the constant stress, without a therapist. But, even while you manage ALL of that, even as you managed to make it to another payday, even as you’ve managed to smile and laugh with your friends and family, even as you look to the future with enough force of will and inner strength to keep going… you hate being poor. You hate yourself for being poor. You blame yourself for being poor. Because they lied to you so often for so long, you believed the lie. And the worst part? They didn’t have to. They chose to.
Hey guys… I hate to have to do this, but we had a HUGE expense come up (I had to go get emergency dental work, bye-bye money :’( ) If you can spare a couple dollars, it would really help us make it til the end of the month. We’ve got rent and utilities covered already, but we need some gas money for Andre to get to work and a little something for some groceries :( If you donate and message me after, I’ll write you a ficlet, any pairing not on my will-not-write list. <3 Thanks in advance, guys. <3 <3 <3
au where the trojan war is a party menelaus throws to win back his girlfriend who left him for some douchebag and he ropes all his friends into helping him and wacky shenanigans happen and a running gag is that odysseus doesn’t even want to be there he’s got shit to do and at the end he gets stuck in traffic on the way home
#IM LAUGHIN #in the middle of it achilles throws a fit #”MAN IVE BEEN DJING FOR 3 HOURS YOU TOLD ME ID ONLY HAVE TO DO IT FOR LIKE AN HOUR” #”achilles cmon do menelaus a solid your djing is totally putting helen in the mood” #”FUCK YOU TOO AG” #he mopes upstairs to make out with his boyfriend #in the middle of a really quick’n’dirty handie someone bursts in the room all #”THIS IS AN EMERGENCY WE’RE OUT OF VODKA” #achilles is like FUCK OFF ASSHOLES I CANT PLAY BEER PONG BUT AS SOON AS YOU NEED SOMEONE TO GO ON A BOOZE RUN ITS ME. OF COURSE #patroclus is like ”well you are the fastest driver” ”I DONT CARE IM NOT GOING” #patroclus ”FINE then i’ll take your car dont be a baby” #5 minutes after patroclus is out the door achilles is like ”shit i fucked up” and catches a taxi to the liquor store #to meet up with patroclus #they drink the vodka and have sex in achilles’ car and forget all about the party
on the way home odysseus gets into a very minor fender bender that’s more like a fender bumper with some shit driver who is almost DEFINITELY high. and it’s all this guy’s fault but he won’t stop screaming about how he’s gonna fucking sue and odysseus just wants to go the fuck home and the guy goes “I’M FILING THE POLICE REPORT WHO ARE YOU” and odysseus is just so done that he says “nobody” and drives the fuck off and this completely tripping guy ends up screaming to the police at the side of the road at like three in the morning “NOBODY CRASHED INTO MY CAR!!!!!”
#I’M FUCKING SCREAMING #THIS WOULD BE SO GOOD THO #ODYSSEUS’ GF PENELOPE IS STUCK AT ANOTHER PARTY #GETTING HIT ON BY DOUCHES FROM ANOTHER FRAT #BUT ODYSSEUS HAS TO LIKE FIND A NEW CAR AND TRIES TO BORROW ONE FROM THIS CHICK WHO GIVES HIM SOME FUCKIN LACED POT OR SOMETHING BC HE FEELS LIKE HE’S BEEN THERE FOREVER #AND MEANWHILE PENELOPE HAS BEEN FORCED TO SAY THAT SHE’LL GO HOME WITH WHOEVER CAN BEAT HER AT BEERPONG #ONLY SHE’S FUCKIN LEGENDARY #SUCKS TO SUCK THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN BEAT HER IS ODYSSEUS #BUT HE HAS TO BE ON THE DL BC THIS FRAT HATES HIS GUTS #AND HE BEATS HER #AND SHE KNOWS IT’S HIM
This was wild from start to finish.
#the chilliad
As the sidekick of the village’s superhero, your ability to stay hidden from crowds isn’t always helpful. But when it comes to sneaking around you are an absolute pro. Where ever people are, nobody will ever see you. You are The Introvert.
YEAH, BECAUSE I’M YOUR CHILD. YOU MADE ME. I AM YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. I WOULD NOT EXIST IF NOT FOR YOUR RECKLESS GAME OF GRAB-ASS. I AM YOUR FAULT. YOU HAVE TO– TO AN EXTENT –TAKE CARE OF ME. I DIDN’T ASK TO EXIST. I HAPPENED BECAUSE OF YOU. THIS IS ALL ON YOU.
If you want to live with a rent-paying roommate, get a roommate. Don’t fucking have children. Don’t have children. Because children are SEPARATE HUMAN BEINGS WHO WILL ALWAYS NEED FOOD AND SHELTER UNTIL THE DAY THEY DIE.
I’m just so, sooo pissed off about the West’s attitudes towards adult children. “Time to move out!” Bitch, to where?? With what money that I’m not already spending on groceries and essentials and giving to my parents for bills?
“I feed you and take care of you, and you don’t pay me!” I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO PAY MY MOTHER AND FATHER TO TAKE CARE OF THEIR RESPONSIBILITY
CHILDREN ARE A LIFETIME DEAL, YOURS AND THEIRS!!!
THEY DIDN’T ASK TO BE BORN!!!
DON’T GUILT YOUR CHILD FOR BEING ALIVE WHEN YOU’RE THE REASON THEY EXIST!!!!!!
I feel like there should be a corollary to the “stop assuming everyone is cis and het” rule, and that should be:
Stop fucking speculating on which of your friends or relatives isn’t.
If someone’s not out to you, give them space and privacy, don’t gossip about the reasons why you think they might not be cis or straight. Please.
I know so many people who had no chance to come out to themselves or figure themselves out before a bunch of nosey gossips had told everyone they knew. Trying to sort your identity out in an environment like that, where you’re facing targeted harassment for an identity you’re not sure you even have, where people are already directly tokenizing and fetishizing you - is difficult and unfair.
It can also be a scary situation to deliberately not be out to specific people because you’re afraid for your safety/job/relationships, only to have someone gossip to that person. You don’t know what the inner workings are of interpersonal relationships you’re not in. The person you’re speculating to might be the reason your friend/relative isn’t out.
I feel like a lot of non-LGBTQ+ people overestimate how normalized and accepted our identities are. There’s a lot you don’t see unless you’re the target. Gossiping about our possible genders or orientations is just as bad as outing us, it’s just as dangerous, even if you’re clear that you’re just guessing.
We deserve to decide for ourselves if, when, how, and to whom, we want to come out.
hot take: moms need to learn how to listen to and comfort their daughters without making everything about their own traumas
a classic example
daughter: hey this thing you do bothers me very much and i wish you wouldn’t do it
mom: well my parents abused me and im not even as bad as they were and i had to sit through it so you gotta sit through whatever i do to you too
a common variant
mom: well i’m having a really hard time right now and you know that i’m doing my best and that i didn’t mean to hurt you ergo you are in fact the asshole for asking me to consider your feelings and change my behavior during this hard hard time i’m having
goodnight sweet prince
I’m sorry I’m just not over that wolverine cover
Kurt’s clearly naked
Logan’s glaring at his dick
Classic porn cover poses
@Esad Ribic explain yourself please
when what when
Also please note the placement of the beer bottle.
I once was at a show where I asked Esad about this cover.
Esad is a big, cheerful, man with a wicked sense of humor.
He just looked at me.
And then he smiled.
And the smile got bigger.
And bigger.
And he said, “And nobody at Marvel noticed!”
And then he couldn’t stop laughing.
im a simple underrepresented eastern european, i see a balkan actor in an american movie, i stan, no questions asked, read this with a russian accent
Forgive me if someone has made this already, but I thought it would be cool to list the symbols of the ace and aro communities. The ace symbols are generally accepted, but the aromantic symbols are things that I have seen floating around on tumblr. If you have any questions about where these come from I’d be happy to link you to the posts/ sources
This is meant to be a comprehensive collection, so if I forgot anything, please let me know so I can add it!
Asexual symbols
Aromantic Symbols
Let me know if I’m missing anything!
Hey! These are really cool but could you please link me to where the ace ones come from? Now that I know about them I want to use them but I also want to know their origins
Of course! I tried to find as many non-tumblr sources as possible because our community is bigger than that, but it’s not always possible.
Asexual symbols
By request, these sources may not be as legit because the aromantic community is still finding its footing
Aromantic Symbols
I’ve also seen lots of references to ace succubi and aro sirens in art!
I recently figured out that I’m grey-ace, can I still accept the ace symbols?
Absolutely! These symbols are for everyone who is Acespec and arospec
For all of you, this has been really helpful to me, try it if you feel bad :). This is the speech if you wanna listen to it www.youtube.com/watch?v=plWexCID-kA
My web comic: http://tapastic.com/series/Green-Quill
Perfect.
I recently bought the beautiful chap book that was made out of Neil Gaiman’s graduation speech, it serves as a very, very good reminder that who you and and what you do are interlinked. If you aren’t digging what you’re doing from 9-5, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
Happy Pride Month!
Hey everyone, I’m not really one for doing this but I’m a bit desperate. I realized too late that I forgot to purchase a new bus pass and I’m flat broke. I get paid next Friday. I could really use some help. Anything would be appreciated. My PayPal is paypal.me/ZigmundGabriel if you’re able to help out.