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so for nanowrimo this year i decided to not write a novel but instead write a screenplay for my dream project, A MUPPET ODYSSEY, which is homer’s odyssey but it’s muppets, a la muppet christmas carol. i didn’t finish it :( but here’s some of it.

that’s from the teaser. this is the first scene:

odysseus makes it to the castle in phaeacia:

thanks for reading a muppet odyssey. if you enjoyed please hit that subscribe button and petition disney to let me write a muppet odyssey

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thank you everyone for your kind response to a muppet odyssey. if i can muster the energy i’d love to finish it and pop a full script online for your viewing pleasure. alternatively, if anyone on tumblr works for the muppets studio please reach out to my agent (it’s just me in a hat).

some choice tags:

@yourfaveisamuppet​ you are a fucking genius.

@pyrite​ i did ultimately end up casting miss piggy as circe! i and some folks on twitter toyed with the idea of all the men on circe’s island being muppet pigs originally who she then turned into human people as punishment.

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 some more choice tags

@jmbeaubier​ seeing my muppetry analysed in this way has filled me with a joy beyond human comprehension. thank you.

@whydocowsfall​ (late response im sorry) so fun fact the 1997 odyssey miniseries actually featured special effects by the jim henson creature shop, and they created polyphemus! so i’m thinking major monsters like polyphemus will be special muppets, like the ghosts in muppet christmas carol, new designs just for the film. as funny as it would be to have polyphemus be like fozzie or something i think it would be genuinely epic to utilise the full hypothetical power of the jim henson company in this hypothetical universe where disney doesn’t snipe me into a little grease spot immediately for even considering touching their property.

to everybody who said they would love to read this / watch it / would pay money to read or watch it: i love you and stay tuned because i would love to finish this script and make it available to read. to everyone who said they wanted to show this to their classics professors please tell me what they think i would love to know.

more casting thoughts

  • the sirens are camilla and the chickens
  • i think penelope is janelle monáe and telemachus might be justice smith. muppet movies have mostly a precedent of casting major characters as humans and supporting characters as muppets, so as tempted as i was to cast miss piggy as penelope, i decided to keep with tradition. breaking up piggy and kermit is also possibly an offence punishable by damnation
  • @theodysseyofhomer​‘s absolutely inspired ideas of sam the eagle as tiresias and statler and waldorf as scylla and charybdis will stick with me forever
  • the gods are all muppets. i believe hermes is rowlf. i had absolutely no reasoning for this i just liked the vibe. fozzie is zeus, because i like the idea of fozzie delivering doom but sounding like fozzie.
  • based on everyone’s encouragement animal has now been double cast as both himself (musician) and achilles in the underworld. but patroclus is a human man. that’s just for me.

more other thoughts

  • the tag line is “how many war crimes can one man kermit?”
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unrequited love for siblings is the saddest thing you could ever portray on its own but over the garden wall said what if the kid is like the sweetest most kindhearted five year old you could imagine and he loves his brooding wistful bitch of an older brother sooo so much and enough to offer up his life in exchange for his brothers when his older brother saw him this whole time as just an annoying step sibling at best and a nuisance at worst and you cant be too mad cause hes also a kid and then when he finally figures it all out it saves them both, the decision to leave lethargy and the rot of melancholy behind and take the love he already has as proof the world is worth it after all and aaa a a. aaaaaa. aaaaaaa. aaa. what a sweet story. what a lovely thing.

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So…roughly three months ago my mother was trying to order a painting for her office space of a New Orleans street view

She picked out a print of pointillism style painting, nice bright colors, appealing to the eye sort of thing.

It arrives only for her to find that it’s not a painting, but rather a mosaic-by-number kit with ~75,000 pieces. Her eyes are bad enough that she can’t really put it together herself and my fathers hands aren’t steady enough to get the tiles facing the right way. So, for the past two weeks I’ve been putting them down one by one so that she can have a nice mosaic for her office wall instead.

I’m roughly 25-30% done:

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5/19 update

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5/23

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5/27

Almost 50% done!!

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Stepped away for a bit, but back at it! 9/25 update

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10/15

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Took a break for a while but here’s the 3/5 update!

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ITS COMPLETED!

5/6/2023

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. 

Community Label: Mature
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One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.

You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.

We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.

After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.

How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.

The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.

You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.

I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.

I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.

You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.

I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless

Community Label: Mature

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honestly the human brain is so small that you *will* forget how much beauty there is out there to experience unless you leave your house every three days. ik its fucked up but i promise its true

my brain, trying to deceive me: there's literally nothing outside!!!!! it's the same neighborhood it's always been !!!!!

me, tying my shoes: shut up shut up!!!! by god we're gonna try to find magic in mundane today !!!!

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also please note that this scientist is in fact the retired man who invented the xbox.

oh fuck i listened to a podcast that was interviewing him and the process he went through to make this bread, ologies with allie ward like he went through full on clean room levels of prep to ensure that this was 100% yeast from old egypt and had to bend over backwards to ensure everything involved was uncontaminated he then revealed that the original xbox logo...

is a sourdough boule

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