I've been scream laughing at this for several days
the first time i ever saw this video it made me spit out my drink all over my desk which is somewhat ironic considering the content of this video
there's something so compelling to me about the fact that sometimes leaving a blade or bullet inside the wound it made is the only way to prevent you from bleeding to death. something about the ironic symbolism of it. when the thing designed and intended to kill you is the only thing keeping you alive.
also yes i do enjoy a bit of penetration imagery and the perverse intimacy of violence. if you must know.
Just had a dream that a novel exists which is written from the POV of an old man dying in the 1920s in the form of diary entries and bit by bit it's revealed it's actually a closeted trans woman who was out during her youth and forced to recloset and now I desperately want to read it
The narrator was like, referring to a girl called Sarah in all the writings, and at the start it's super unclear who Sarah actually is and it's speculated by the people around that she may be a lover from the narrator's youth, until it's noted that Sarah had heterochromia and that's the defining trait of the narrator
Oh also Sarah did actually have a lover. They were T4T and lived in a little cottage by a lake until he was drowned in it and Sarah couldn't make ends meet anymore and had to recloset
Okay a bunch of people have told me to write the thing now so I've decided if this post gets 30K I'm turning the thing into an epistolary novel.
Hey folks, if you want to fight back against the twitterfication of tumblr USE IT LIKE IT'S TUMBLR!!!!!! REBLOG THINGS!!!!!! USE THE TAGS TO SCREAM AT YOUR FRIENDS!!!!!!!
Woke up to this having more reblogs than likes! Keep it going! Do it on every post! REBLOG THINGS ON THE REBLOGGING THINGS SITE!
not enough people are fond of things nowadays. reblog if you're a true fondler
if i was the president of the world each person would get a little baby goat to hold and love. improving mental health of the world one baby goat at a time. #voteforme
in tears over this
some people post that women are their favorite guy but women aren’t even their favorite women
• An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television, getting drunk, and smoking cigars.
• A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.
• A bar was walked into by the passive voice.
• An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.
• Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
• A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.
• Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.
• A question mark walks into a bar?
• A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.
• Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Get out -- we don't serve your type."
• A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.
• A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
• Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart.
• A synonym strolls into a tavern.
• At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar -- fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.
• A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.
• Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.
• A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.
• An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.
• The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.
• A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.
• The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.
• A dyslexic walks into a bra.
• A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines.
• A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.
• A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.
• A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony
- Jill Thomas Doyle
A zeugma walked into a bar, my life and trouble.
I feel like Samus Aran, when she’s not on a mission, would have a Tony Hawk type experience with people not recognizing her without her armor. Like she’d get carded buying alcohol or something and the cashier would go “Samus Aran? Ha, it’s spelled just like the bounty hunter too. I wonder what he’s up to now?”
She would definitely take advantage of this when she goes to lesbian bars and stuff. She’d just tell the cute alien girls her name is Sammy because if they knew she was the great Samus Aran they’d expect her to top
I originally put a shortened version of this in the tags but I feel it’s worth adding. Imagine being the alien girl at a lesbian bar on a federation space station. You meets this cute tall human girl who calls herself Sammy and you hit it off and share some drinks and eventually Sammy invites her back to her place. Her place is a space ship that you swear looks familiar but you can’t remember where you’ve seen it. Anyway you disregard it and spend the night fucking the brains out of this buff blonde tgirl. Then in the morning when you go to leave you make a wrong turn and catch a glimpse of the power armor belonging to the bounty hunter known across the galaxy. Imagine the realization that this “Sammy” girl you plowed into the mattress last night is singhandedly responsible for saving the universe multiple times
my mom loves to lie and like she always swears she was NEVER homophobic or anything to me as a child “i even have a gay work friend” but a really funny memory resurfaced recently where i asked if i could use birthday money i had to buy a rainbow flag when i was like ??? 7?? because i LOVED rainbows. and she said no that means something Evil and god will hate you . so what did i do. but ask my grandmom for a rainbow sweater for christmas and proceed to only wear that sweater for three years when it got cold because i didnt like the idea that god hated colors and i wanted to challenge him
normal 7 year old with religious trauma: oh no god can hear my thoughts and punish me
me: either you are wrong about god or god is wrong and i will fight him and i will be the one to find out
me at 7: he would not fucking say that
yes she did she also took me in for 2 years so i could finish college and get a job when my mama kicked me out for transitioning during the pandemic my grandma has been an ally since day 1
I dreamed that everyone on Twitter was mad at this new Sonic game about alternate universes because it had an adult Maria on it and she looked like this:
Seeing people shoot raptors in other countries is fucking wild to me because we have a whole system of super strict laws governing how you can handle an individual FEATHER off of an eagle, and it doesn't have to even be a dead eagle. One can molt and you can find it on the ground and if you're caught with it the warden will fuck your entire life. What do you mean people are out there shooting them to protect a fucking pheasant. A pheasant??? That thing I have to avoid running over approximately 459 times any time I leave a major highway???
My good friend @prismaticate has asked a very good question here, and while I’m not entirely sure I’m qualified to explain it and would love some input from more qualified sources, my SUPER simplified understanding of why the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 and its numerous modern revisions and addendums have clauses about this included is this:
-It’s basically impossible to tell a feather that’s been picked up off the ground from one that’s been taken from a poached bird
-This used to be a MAJOR problem when bird-feather hats and the like were in high demand back in the day, because several bird species on the edge of extinction kept getting poached in spite of the new laws protecting them since people would just say they “found” any feathers from protected species used in the stuff they were selling, and you couldn’t prove otherwise unless you literally caught them in the act of poaching
-This eventually got SO bad that they had to just make it illegal to have the feathers at all, with certain exceptions made for members of different indigenous groups, or authorized organizations that display them as part of efforts to educate the public about the species they belong to
@zooophagous is this a reasonable rundown? Was there anything I missed/any better sources you might recommend to learn more about this? I know it’s probably far more nuanced than that, but this was kind of the explanation I’d always seen floating around. 😅
That's pretty much the gist of it! Eagles and eagle feathers have more laws on top of that because of their sacred uses in certain indigenous practices, how they relate to legal falconry, and because eagles at one time were highly endangered while at the same time being a national symbol. Where a cop or a game warden may shrug and look the other way if you, say, illegally picked up a chickadee feather from your bird feeder, if they see a real eagle feather they will notice and will be VERY interested in where it came from.
Not long ago here someone was arrested and charged for violating these laws because they tried to sell a plains feather bonnet at a pawn shop, claiming they had "found it while exploring an abandoned house."
The clerk suspected it was real eagle, the warden confirmed it was, and because those feathers are so tightly tracked they were able to locate the family of the previous owners who said the item had been stolen some time ago.
If nobody knows you have it, obviously you can get away with it. But if they see it, or God forbid you try to SELL it, the hammer will fall.
Im surprised every time people think it's a crazy sounding law, it is genuinely one of the only things preventing a lot of native birds from extinction or any asshole could kill as many as they want and just say they found them on the ground
when gerard way sings "the broken, the beaten, and the damned" and when kermit the frog sings "the lovers, the dreamers, and me" they're talking about the same people btw
