get loved, idiot

Imagine if you met someone who can't eat watermelon. Not that they're allergic or unable somehow, but they just haven't figured out how to do that. So you're like "what the hell do you mean? it works just like eating anything else, you open your mouth, sink your teeth in, take a bite and chew. If you can bite, chew and swallow, you should be able to eat a watermelon."

And they agree that yes, they do know how to eat, in theory. The problem is the watermelon. Surely, if they figured out where to start, they'd figure out how to do it, but they have no clue how to get started with it.

This goes back and forth. No, it's not an emotional issue, they're not afraid of the watermelon. They can eat any other fruit, other sweet things, and other watery things ("it's watery?" they ask you). Is it the colour? Do they have a problem eating things that are green on the outside and red on the inside?

"It's red on the inside?"

Wait, they've never seen the inside? At this point you have to ask them how, exactly, they eat the watermelon. So to demonstrate, they take a whole, round, uncut watermelon, and try to bite straight into it. Even if they could bite through the crust, there's no way to get human jaws around it.

"Oh, you're supposed to cut it first. You cut the crust open and only chew through the insides."

And they had no idea. All their life this person has had no idea how to eat a watermelon, despite of being told again and again and again that it's easy, it's ridiculous to struggle with something so simple, there's no way that someone just can't eat a watermelon, how can you even mange to be bad at something as fucking simple as eating watermelon.

If someone can't do something after being repeatedly told to "just do it", there might be some key component missing that one side has no idea about, and the other side assumed was so obvious it goes without mention.

Yep.

https://drmaciver.substack.com/p/how-to-do-everything had a nice list of additional examples like this, with (non-)obvious major insights with regard to opening stitched bags, cleaning your bathroom floor, using a search engine, catching a ball, pinging somebody, proving a theorem, playing sudoku, passing as “normal”, improving your writing, generating novel ideas, and solving your problem.

My fiance played the clarinet when he was in school. When he was first learning to play, he rented an instrument from the school to learn on. He was the last chair clarinet, had been for years, because he could not make notes that required the register key. For years, they kept making him do embrature exercises and he started to get a few notes, with lots of effort. Eventually he had to get private lessons to stay in band.

Every time he tells me this story, his frustration by this point in the story, years later, is evident. He still sounds frustrated by it, despite all the time that passed. Teachers had been giving him crap for years because he hadn't been making much progress with the instrument.

When he got to the private instructor, she acknowledged his frustration, and asked him to try to play for her. He did, and she saw all he was doing. She then did something no one else had done before. She asked him to put his mouthpiece on a different clarinet and try to play the same notes. Like magic, it worked. She looked at the clarinet he had been using and found that the school's clarinet needed it's pads replaced.

He went from last chair to first chair nearly overnight, having been taught far more techniques than typically taught at that age just to overcome the broken instrument preventing him from making noise.

Sometimes you don't need to brute force a problem. Sometimes your clarinet is just broken.

Last thing to blog for the day then I need to pretend to be productive.  Little Miss has multiplication she’s still struggling with. Anyway - I was promoted at work and asked to fix the injury and accident problem in a particular warehouse.  I was “the safety guy” and I was really really good at my job. When I went in I had to find out “why are these folks having more injuries per 100,000 hours than the rest of our facilities” and so I dug in.  This facility was having 2 - 3 injuries reported A DAY.   Was it the people? Nope, same hiring pool as others.  Hours? Nope, almost every station has the same hours.  Lets check the training for our new hires.  Let me see their training packs.  “Uhh... let me find them”  Excuse me? You should be training them you should have them here with you.  Okay, what are the four options for loading a package?  “ummm....”  DUDE you’re supposed to be training these folks and you don’t know.  Who trained you?  “I never loaded before”  Okay fine, who trained you how to be a trainer.  “no one” ...  See where this is going?  So now all of a sudden I’m holding training classes for the top-level management team all the way down to the front-line supervisors to make sure THEY know the job that they’re supposed to be teaching to others.  We broke it all down to the very basics and slowly, day by day.  But you know what?  The first few months, reported on job injuries went up because we raised the awareness and stopped management team from hiding the injuries and just giving a couple days off.  We’re reporting them, recording them, getting treatment and care where needed.   Then we went a week with no injuries.   Then a month Darn broke out streak.  Why? What happened, where was the breakdown? Another week. A month WE MADE IT  A YEAR  Then another six months Then I got promoted again and replicated this across the country and that original operation went nearly 3 years without an injury.   So start at the very beginning if you’re having trouble with something or having trouble teaching someone something.  If they want to write, they have to be able to hold the pencil.  

I finally found a post I can contribute a story to ^_^

I have a learning disability called dyspraxia and I won't get into all the details but the relevant part is that it affects my fine motor skills, particularly the ability to handwrite. This meant my handwriting was absolute chickenscratch.

Throughout school, I routinely got bad grades. D's and E's across the board, and in order to get into trade school I needed a C in English.

The first time I took the exam, I got a D.

The second time I took it, I got a D.

The third time I took it, we tried something different. Instead of taking it by hand, I was allowed to use a computer.

And I got a B. On one piece of coursework, I got an A.

The problem wasn't what I was writing, it was the fact that no one could read it.

I can only imagine how different my grades in other subjects would've been had I had these accommodations all along.

I finally found

a post I can contribute

a story to ^_^

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

yknow the more jk rowlings world falls apart in america (race relations, international history, population, etc) the more i like to think that america just straight up doesnt have the statute of secrecy. european countries are falling over themselves hiding magic but come to georgia and theres a drunk redneck wizard wingardium leviosa-ing the shit out of a tractor to the delight of his drunk redneck muggle buddies in a walmart parking lot.

wizard on muggle violence is prevented by virtue of there being like a 50/50 chance that muggle is packing heat. muggle on wizard violence is prevented by knowing that wizard can give you boils spelling LIL BITCH on your forehead if you try to start something.

america is the weird redheaded stepchild of the magic world.

im not gonna stop reblogging this until this is the next Hot Fanon

english muggles come back to england and suspicious wizards meet them at the airport. 

‘did you witness any strange or inexplicable acts while you were in america?’ they demand. 

the english muggles just laugh in their dumb fucking faces. mate, it’s america. 

what’s the difference between a werewolf and an animagus?

english wizard: *two hour lecture on legal history*

american wizard: six beers

@jumpingjacktrash congrats ive read hundreds of comments on this dumpster fire of a headcanon and yours is the best

thank you my patronus is a monster truck

I have reblogged this I don’t even fucking know how many times but I still completely lose it every time I see the words “My Patronus is a monster truck” because that is the most AMERICAN thing I’ve ever seen in 29 years of being ‘merican.

came back wrong but its from the perspective of the person who came back

Seeing pictures of yourself -the real you, the one people miss, the one people look for in your eyes- is like staring into a foggy mirror. The parts are there, you think, but the details are lost.

Someone who loves you makes you breakfast. You thank him and eat it despite the fact the eggs are too crisp on the sides and missing much needed salt. He says its how you like it, but that just makes that angry, unfettered itch in the back of your brain grow stronger.

How I used to like it, you want to say, how I used to be.

You grip your butter knife harder and light catches the polished metal. The glimpse you catch of yourself in the cutlery looks nothing like the photo on the mantle.

If we don’t microdose delusion we won’t make it through this reality babe….

So I remember reading about this study in grad school where they have a bunch of clinically depressed people and a bunch of non-clinically-depressed people a game that was partially chance and partially skill, and asked them to estimate how much control they had over the outcome.

The depressed people were far more accurate in estimating how much influence their actions had on the outcome of the game compared to their nondepressed counterparts, who consistently overestimated the effects of their own choices on their chances of winning.

Then I remember this other study (CW animal testing) where they put rats in a bucket of water that they couldn’t get out of, so they’d have to swim. There was a fairly consistent point at which the swimming rat would falter, and stop swimming, fated to drown.

Except that that’s when the researchers would pull the rat out of the bucket, give it a nice rest warmth and a meal.

When those SAME rats who had been rescued before were put in the same situation again, they swam much LONGER than they had before.

Why? The risk was the same either way- drowning. You’d have thought that the fear of drowning would keep them swimming to their maximum length no matter what.

The researchers conclusion was that the rescued rats had something they hadn’t had the first time- they had more hope. A miraculous rescue could come, and that let them swim for longer, just in case.

I think we do microdose delusion because sometimes that little overestimation of our chances, of our luck, keeps us swimming that little bit longer, just in case something good happens. And sometimes, that little margin really does make the difference. 

“All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need... fantasies to make life bearable."

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little—"

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

"So we can believe the big ones?"

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

"They're not the same at all!"

YOU THINK SO? THEN TAKE THE UNIVERSE AND GRIND IT DOWN TO THE FINEST POWDER AND SIEVE IT THROUGH THE FINEST SIEVE AND THEN SHOW ME ONE ATOM OF JUSTICE, ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY. AND YET—Death waved a hand. AND YET YOU ACT AS IF THERE IS SOME IDEAL ORDER IN THE WORLD, AS IF THERE IS SOME...SOME RIGHTNESS IN THE UNIVERSE BY WHICH IT MAY BE JUDGED.

"Yes, but people have got to believe that, or what's the point—"

MY POINT EXACTLY.”

-Terry Pratchett, Hogfather.

hey, don't just leave the quote there! the last line is what MAKES it!

"YOU NEED TO BELIEVE IN THINGS THAT AREN’T TRUE.  HOW ELSE CAN THEY BECOME?"

“YOU NEED TO BELIEVE

IN THINGS THAT AREN’T TRUE. HOW

ELSE CAN THEY BECOME?”

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

ATTENTION ALL OF TUMBLR!

THIS IS AN URGENT MESSAGE.

IN 2014, IN SCHAUMBURG , ILLINOIS, USA

THERE

WILL

BE

A

TUMBLR CONVENTION!!!

THESE ARE THE WONDERFUL PEOPLE THAT ARE MAKING IT HAPPEN

SIGNAL BOOST THIS GUYS

I WANNA SEE EVERYONE THERE!!

this post eminates incredibly demonic energy

This is like finding a stray journal page in a ruined city that talks of some grand festival and the date of the entry is the day before the city was destroyed

Happy 10 year anniversary Dashcon announcement I guess

NPC, the deputy from my roleplay server. I think it’s fine to translate his name as Whirlwind.

My friend and I decided to create NPCs with a generator, make their personalities and appearances random for an unpredictable game, and I’m really glad that our main antagonist looks like this. 

you ever think about how fucked up it is that shen qingqiu's first mission out of sect was him subduing the skinner, a demon who targeted and replaced people no one would really miss?

very fun how the skinner ended up getting killed and destroyed by someone else who took the place of a person no one really missed

these tags get it

IT’S THEM!! Everyone shut up my favorite characters have returned ouhhhheheheheee

@somerandomdudelmao do you even know what ur doing to me,,,,/pos,,,,

48hr tumblr blackout proposal

tumblr mobile has seadily become near unusable these past few updates. not just from a user experience perspective (which is important enough in itself) but also from an accessibility perspective.

examples include the new way the image viewer works (if you can call it "working"), the tumblr live button replacing the profile button, and that newly created blogs will be forced to have their main dashboard tab be the 'for you' page.

the demands of the protest would be along the lines of:

to protest against these usability issues, and inspired by the recent reddit blackout, i propose a 48 hour blackout (where you don't use tumblr at all). preferably of both mobile and web (since web has problems too) but mobile is the focus here.

I suggest the 48 hours between the 30th of June to the end of the 1st of July.

this marks the end of pride month (for the "queerest place on the internet") and the start of disability month (since accessibility is a massive issue here).

tumblr office is in San Francisco, USA, so the times and dates will be calculated using their time zone (PDT).

you can find out the times and dates for your timezone here.

i can't afford to blaze this post so please spread it around as much as possible! protests only work if significant numbers show up!

tumblr rejected the blaze campaigns for this post because they know it would hurt them. let's make this an indefinite blackout - it's the best way to get results.

(so the blackout would be from June 30th onwards)

@theshitpostcalligrapher @jame7t @demilypyro @unclefather @i-am-a-fish @one-time-i-dreamt @fartgallery @ginger-ale-official @hungwy @kaijuno @zagreus @manywinged @pukicho @todaysbird @thehugwizard

You guys are some of the biggest most influential blogs I know, it'd probably be a great help to this protest if some of tumblrs biggest users participated in the blackout and spread the word. Sorry for being annoying and tagging yall.

and then there would have passed a pleasant slash fanfiction, had the authors misogyny not been immediately unveiled

in our rush for “he would not fucking say that” how we forget the all too common: She Is Not Fucking Like That

good morning, the likes on this post now outnumber the hit count of the fanfiction on which this was based and with your help we can make that true of the reblogs amen

My 90yr old Irish Catholic grandpa doesn’t miss with my gender. He’s never gotten my name wrong, or my pronouns, never even faltered over it.

It’s all so natural too: son, big man, young man…

We’ve never talked about it. He’s the only one who hasn’t pushed for details. He just accepted it and carried on because it’s not a huge deal.

It’s so comforting.

My dear that’s called Alzheimer’s

I wasn’t going to respond to this, I looked at your blog. Your irrational hatred and bile directed towards trans people is palpable and pathetic. This was intended to upset me. 

But I now have a chance to talk about who my grandfather is. 

You see, I find it interesting that you claim the only way my 90yr old grandfather could possibly be so accepting is if he was dying of one of the most horrible diseases known to man, a condition which eats your brain from the inside out and turns you in an angry, scared shell of the child you once were while your family has to grieve you long before you’re dead. 

You find it easier - and evidently prefer - to believe that to accept me, my grandfather must have Alzheimer’s rather than any other reason. 

Why is that easier to believe than a man who lived through (not was born during, not was around for, lived through) the Second World War and the aftermath, seeing footage of the concentration camps and meeting refugees would be accepting? 

A poor builder and a farmer who worked alongside queer men and deaf men and the few people of colour in Northern Ireland in the 1950s and was himself barred from many places of employment and education due to his religion?

This man, whose oldest son was born the year the British army began occupying his country, who lived through the Troubles and was automatically considered suspicious and dangerous through an incident of birth? A man who helped raise six children - most of them boys and therefore in great danger of the army turning their guns on them for playing kid-games - in a time of civil war where it didn’t seem to matter which side you were on, the bombs and shootings could get you either way? A man who once was taken hostage by the IRA? 

My grandfather’s oldest son - my dad - was the first in his family to go to university and there he met and fell in love with a Protestant woman. This was before the Good Friday Agreement, when the civil war was still happening, and if my grandparents had a problem with it - they never let said to my mum. 

(My grandpa and my mum don’t really get along, but that’s more to do with me being a premature baby and tensions over my survival and disagreements on how to look after me. My mum and my Nana? Thick as thieves.) 

They certainly never let it slip to us when we came along because it wasn’t important anymore that we were something many people in Northern Ireland would have preferred to not exist. It didn’t matter. 

He voted in the Good Friday Agreement in hopes of stopping the conflict. He spent a lot of time listening to me about the bullying I was facing for being - unbeknownst to me at the time - queer and disabled. He just told me that being happy was far more important. 

Being trans? It does not matter. Of course it doesn’t matter to him because he’s seen worse things in the world. 

He’s ninety years old. He’s still out on the farm, he’s still studying history, he’s still sharp as fuck. I’ve seen someone die of Alzheimer's. I know every bit of it and it’s not him. Besides, I’ve not medically transitioned in anyway yet. He’s only seen me presenting fully masc for six days in person. Two years in total. If he had Alzheimer’s he’d be calling me by my deadname and using she/her. 

And he’s not unusual. Outside of your echo chamber, most people are fine with trans people. Most people don’t care. Most people are accepting. They may not understand, they may not use the right words, but they’re accepting. 

I do find it interesting that once again the TERF tactic is try and wrestle autonomy and self-control away from people who don’t follow your bigoted stances. Autistics must be being manipulated. Trans men are clearly confused little girls. Children obviously can’t understand their own minds and bodies. 

My grandfather must have Alzheimer's. 

Of course my view of a world I’ve seen in a Tumblr textpost must be more correct than the reality everyone else lives in. 

Have the day you deserve. 

Real fucked of you to call the homosexual men who were persecuted during the Second World War "queers", and if you gave a damn outside of cosplaying as one you'd see why. Now lbr, if you got a thoughtful response from a gender critical person, you would just see it as "TERFs spewing bile and bullshit" and see anyone who disagrees with your ideology as hateful and pathetic. So there's no point in addressing all of that. What is important to address is, no, children don't understand their own minds and bodies. That's why they get groomed ("manipulated"). Because they are naive. It feels incredibly strange that this has to be said again and again, but it's incredibly irresponsible to proclaim that they understand themselves with your whole chest. Because that's exactly what children want to hear and they will always come to listen to whoever plays on that feeling of autonomy and freedom.

“In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, queer, fairy, trade, and gay signified distinct social categories within the gay male subculture. In his book Gay New York, Chauncey noted that queer was used as a within-community identity term by men who were stereotypically masculine.[20] Many queer-identified men at the time were, according to Chauncey, "repelled by the style of the fairy and his loss of manly status, and almost all were careful to distinguish themselves from such men", especially because the dominant straight culture did not acknowledge such distinctions. Trade referred to straight men who would engage in same-sex activity; Chauncey describes trade as "the 'normal men' [queers] claimed to be."[16]

In contrast to the terms used within the subculture, medical practitioners and police officers tended to use medicalized or pathological terms like "invert", "pervert", "degenerate", and "homosexual".[16]”

This is just searching the origin of the word queer on Wikipedia. Followed the sources, Chauncey letters are incredibly illuminating.

You understand that these were real people my grandpa met, right? Real people he interacted with? You wanna know why I called them queer? Because they called themselves that.

My grandpa, bless him, didn’t want to call them queer. He called them gay, but said “they called themselves that word beginning with Q.”

My grandpa was twelve when WWII ended. These men were all around his age so they probably weren’t directly discriminated against during WWII for being queer. They were, however, discriminated against for their religion.

"Cosplaying", hey, asshole, I'm bisexual and I tend to be more interested in women so by your logic I'm not cosplaying anything.

"Now lbr, if you got a thoughtful response from a gender critical person, you would just see it as "TERFs spewing bile and bullshit" and see anyone who disagrees with your ideology as hateful and pathetic."

This is literally the first thing about trans people I ran across on your blog. You think trans people are a psyop. That is hateful and pathetic. That is basement-dweller level of conspiracy theory.

And no matter how nicely you dress it up, I have not heard a single proposed future from GCs which does not relegate me to second-class citizen. Not even because I'm trans, but because I'm autistic and disabled.

There is currently a movement in the UK trying to strip autistic people of their medical autonomy because of "concerns" about autistic trans people. The actual case is about a twenty-five year old trans woman. If that went through then I would be forever considered a minor in the eyes of the medical world. So, I don't own my body. So I don't have control over my reproductive rights (which is usually when broodmare or sterlisation become your two options if you're screaming about autistic children being "sterilised"), or have the ability to have sex, or donate organs or blood, or consent to lifesaving surgery, or have a choice whether I want a DNR, or have the right not to be placed in an institution. Hell, that means I can't even get a tattoo.

And if I'm legally a minor in regards to my body, it's increasingly likely I'll become (because I studied history, I know how these go) legally a minor in other elements of life. If I'm a minor in the eyes of the law, that means I can't sign contracts. So no renting or buying a house, no going to university, no jobs, no marriage. I can legally be paid even less than now as a disabled person. That's when exploitation happens.

Guardianship is ripe for abuse and apparently no one learnt anything from #FreeBrittany. If I can't get a job the old-fashioned way, you go under the table and that's historically a Bad Idea (tm).

If we're adding in the fact I'm trans, then the best case scenario I've seen presented to me is segregation. And while obviously I can't speak on the experiences of the most famous and horrific examples of North American or South Africa with the segregation of black people, I CAN however discuss the segregation of Catholic people in Northern Ireland.

It was shit. It still is practiced semi-informally in a lot of NI and it leads to hatred, military occupation, and a state of civil unrest after years of discrimination.

Worst case scenario, I'm dead. I'm forced in the closet, I'm wiped from existence.

Why the fuck the fuck would I ever agree?

Now, trigger warning for the next bit here considering it discusses the sexual abuse and grooming of kids, transphobia, and my attempted grooming by a self-professed TERF.

Alright enough messing around, time to ACTUALLY initiate the Reddit refugees I propose Mishapocalypse 3.0 welcome redditors edition. On June 21st(06/21) save this picture, I want it as your pfp, I want it reblogged to hell and back. Edit it however you like. act like you belong on this Hellsite Reblog to spread the word, prepare

a couple of eepies

Welcome to tumblr's own AITA!

Asks are open and anon is on. Please submit your own stories to be judged by the court of tumblr! Each story will come with a poll, judgements are as follows:

YTA=You're the asshole NTA=Not the asshole JAH=Justified asshole NAH=No assholes here: everyone is some level of justified ESH=Everyone sucks here: you're all assholes INFO=Not enough information to judge

im putting together a couple of scottish folk mixes bc that’s what i do and im honestly curious if anyone in my country has ever been unequivocally happy about anything ever

scottish trad music genres:

We have of course the traditional Irish music genres to go with them:

* Everyone I Love Is An Allegorical Representation of Ireland

* The English Stole My Farm And Put Sheep On It

* You Were My Boyfriend But Now You Won’t Even Come To The Window To Look Upon Me And Our Dead Infant Child (In The Rain)

* Whack Fol Too La Roo Umptytiddly Good They’ve Stopped Listening Now Let’s Talk About Revolution

* Something In Irish, I Think It’s About Fairies, Or Maybe A Cow

oooo can I add to this? don’t forget Appalachian folk balladry, the American cousin of Scottish and Irish traditional music and just as uplifting as its Anglo-Saxon highland forbears!!!

genres include:

Don’t forget that old standby “The Mine Collapsed and Everyone Died”!

I think someone needs to put in a word for the English folk tradition though:

behold mongolian folk music genres

THE MONGOLIAN FOLK SONGS MADE IT BETTER.

now with more okinawan!

As the daughter of a folksinger and spouse of a folklorist, I love this SO MUCH.  Here’s some from the sub-sub-genre of French folk songs of the Midwest…

Some Italian Folk Music Genres

A Spider Has Bitten Me And If I Do Not Dance I Will Die, Alas

I Am A Very Fancy Man With A Very Fancy Hat

The Cable Car Is A Thinly-Veiled Metaphor For Your Feminine Torture, O Woman

Rome Is The Very Best Place And Every Other Place Is Just Awful

I Love You, But You Are Married

I Love You, But You Are Fickle (Why Did You Dance With The Baker’s Son, Thou Vixen?)

I Love You, But You Left Me All Alone On This Romantic Wind-Swept Hillside, Which Is Actually Very Pretty, But Not As Pretty As You, Foul Temptress

Rome Is Still The Best Place And Every Other Place Can Go Right To Hell

Seriously Once You Have Been To Rome You Will Just Be Sick At The Thought Of Being Anywhere Else, You Will Pine Away And Die

I Love You, But You Are Dead (Or Maybe You Just Went To Live In A Slightly Prettier Place)

Rome, Rome, O Rome, Ah Rome, Rome Rome Rome, Have I Mentioned That I Love Rome?

Venetian Special Genres:

Women Are Like The Ocean: Salty And Full Of Drowned Sailors

Women Are Like The Ocean: I Cannot Figure Them Out At All

I Saw You One Time At A Party And I Have Designs Upon Your Feminine Virtue

I Love You, But You Are Married To The Ocean (For Some Reason)

I thought I would add some Dutch ones, because I saw no one had added any: - That Girl Is A Prostitute (But At Least She Goes To Church)

- That Incompetent Sailor Is Actually A Girl, But She Will Have Sex With You If You Don’t Kick Her Off The Boat

- Someone Of Any Occupation Is Doing Something, But Unfortunately They Are Now Dead

- Fuck You Spain (Haha, We Sunk Your Boat And Stole Your Silver)

- Fuck You England

- We Might Be Small, But We Will Fight You

- Life Isn’t So Bad, If You Just Go Outside

- Fuck You Winter

- Look At That Guy (Wild Racism)

- We Like Going To Other Countries (More Wild Racism)

- Drinking Is Fun

- Drinking Makes Me Long For Sea

- God Is My Dad

- My Province Is Great And Full Of Nature

Some nice Russian folk songs:

And my personal favourite:

I just couldn’t miss an opportunity to provide you a comprehensive summary of Ukrainian folk music genres.

~ I Married To A Man And Moved Far From My Home But I Want Fucking Back On My Fucking Land To My Parents And A Guy Whom I Actually Planned To Marry Before My Society’s Patriarchal Structure Destroyed My Life

~ A Guy Whom I Loved Loved Me And Also A Some Other Bitch So I Poisoned Him So That Nobody Gets Him

~ This Is My Land And I Love It Very Much, Period

~ I Made A Traditional Kupala Wreath And Released It On Water To Find My Love, No Sexual Hits Involved

~ I Have A Veeery Deeeeep Well In My Garden, And Also A Veeery Curly-Wurly Cabbage, And Also A Veeery Sweeeet Carrot Growing There, Come On Guys Check It Out, Oh, And There Are Totally No Sexual Hints

~ Graphic Descriptions Of Lesbian Sex

~ Everybody Is Dead After A Battle But There Is One Particular Cossack Whom I Am Especially Obligated To Mourn About Because He Is A Representative Of Our Entire Nation’s Young People

~ The Couple Cannot Be Together Because Of Various Reasons And Everybody Cries

~  The Couple Cannot Be Together Because Of Various Reasons And Everybody Cries And It’s Compared To Some Sad Shit Happening In Nature

~ Let’s Kill All People Who Threaten Ukraine Hahaha Yay!

~Let’s Kill All People Who Threaten Ukraine And Involve Some Couple Who Cannot Be Together Because Of Various Reasons And Everybody Cries

Adding these well-known Cajun hits

~ I have a boat and have procured many crawfish do you love me?

~ I sure do love crawfish, boats, the bayou, and also dancing

~ My girlfriend can cook, and is therefore superior your girlfriend, who cannot

~ my girlfriend cannot cook and is therefore inferior to all other girlfriends

~ I saw you over a pile of crawfish and knew I was in love (on the bayou)

~ a list of regional dishes set to the tune of kitchen utensils

Canada checking in:

~ There was a ship and everyone on it was brave as it sank in a storm on the ocean or possibly one of our many inland-sea-sized lakes, please remember the name of the ship 

~ We fell in love when we were young and we didn’t actually understand each other and you figured that out before I did because I’m slow-witted and you’re kind of a jerk so you left me (now listen to this sick organ/fiddle/guitar/harmonica/piano solo)

~ Fuck the railroad, fuck the government, and especially fuck the HBC

~ Gosh everything in this country is inhumanly big and inconvenient and trying to kill us, we’re so lucky to live here, it’s so majestic

~ The English stole our sheep and exiled my true love to Louisiana

~ That’s Cute - an indigenous/ Métis coproduction after hearing that last one

~ Well we’re all in debt and working in a mine fucking sucks but at least we can get drunk and go dancing on the weekends

~ This guy went to prison for a crime he didn’t commit/did commit but with the most sympathetic motive for doing it ever and now he’s out of jail and everything is bittersweet, either because he broke out and has to go back or because he’s lost years of his life to a broken legal system.

~ HELLO OUT THERE, WE’RE ON THE AIR, IT’S HOCKEY NIGHT TONIGHT!

Nova Scotia special edition: ~ The sea sucks and left me a broken wreck of my former self. ~ The sea sucks and killed my one true love. ~ Working in a mine sucks and will kill you ~ The weather sucks and will kill you. ~ Poverty sucks and will kill you. ~ I desperately wish I could return home to Nova Scotia, that beautiful gem in the sea.

Oh I love this post so much

Welsh Folk Songs

Maybe it would be dangerous to add that I’m working on the Middle Kingdoms version of these… :)

idk where it is but i think about that “jade and dirk friendship” post all the time like Yeah jade would be like “lmao its another silly rose-slash-dave” while dirk is having a whole anxiety attack of an internal anime monologue (complete with an orchestral soundtrack) about needing to prove himself to his boyfriend’s relative who is also a fucking genius and the most powerful person who has the disprivilege of being around him. dirk is sitting with his email open on his computer trying to think of some cosmically important reason to get Jade to talk to him with jake next to him like “just TEXT her if you wanna hang out” and dirk is going No I can’t do that, Jake, there is an art to this, there is a social code, for me to do so would be tipping my hand, I’m thinking I make her a business offer, maybe ask her to help me sort out how to address a natural disaster… Have any natural disasters happened recently? Where does she work. Can your tv show host her for an interview or something. This has gotta be business-like with logical reasoning behind me seeking her out before I just throw myself around asking her to “hang out” like some sort of desperate friendship slut. Then, once we have become accustomed to one another’s presences, and had one or two personal conversations in the midst of our business talk, I can invite her to go get coffee. Or something. Not coffee because that is a horrible choice, but something else. I’ll know when I get there. In the meantime I need her to warm up to me. 

Jake texts jade after this like “hey dirk wants to hang out with you but is throwing a strider fit over it can you text him” and so Jade texts dirk asking if he wants to go get lunch to get to know one another and dirk has seizures for six hours trying to think of how to respond before replying “Sure.” and throwing his phone into the toilet

i got a con table at the end of june and nothing prepared 🫣😬 what if i did a lil zine like this?

is this sth?????