These are my 3 kittens, and I need to get rid of them as soon as possible. My cat is pregnant again, and we don’t have enough money to take care of these kittens + the new ones. These kittens featured in this picture are over 12 weeks old, and have never been outside, making them indoor cats. We haven’t really named them, so feel free to call them whatever you like.
I live in Oklahoma, more specifically the Tulsa/Broken Arrow area. Please contact me with serious inquires only. If we don’t find them homes soon, my mom said we might have to euthanize them.
If you have any questions, please send me an ask or a message.
MOMS’N’ARROWS PT2: WE NEED TO fuckin’ TALK ABOUT fuckin’ KEVIN!!!
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN is a harrowing description of an extreme potentiality of parenthood whose reputation has scared a lot of people away from ever seeing it—and which I watched three times last week. None of these were the first time I’d seen it. I’d seen it before, failed to forget anything about it, and when I picked the proverbial scab off my wounds last week, I found that I could not stop watching it head to tail. While it is certainly traumatic, and while we all know how trauma appeals to me, the truth is that there is something about KEVIN that I find strangely reassuring. Allow me to explain.
Lynne Ramsay’s astonishing adaptation of Lionel Shriver’s novel of the same name—hang on a second though. What the fuck is going on with Lynne Ramsay? She’s like, insanely good at making movies. Why isn’t she just constantly making movies? The 46 year old Glasgow native has exactly 7 directorial credits to her name, four of which are shorts. Like why the fuck isn’t she just constantly making movies? Every one of this film’s 112 minutes is an if-you-blink-you-miss-it moment. The story essentially takes place over a week in the life of Tilda Swinton, of which she spends each day trying to scrub a hostile spray of red paint off the front of her house, while she analyzes the onrushing tragedy that began with the conception of her psychopathic son, and must come to some sort of resolution when she confronts him behind bars. The mercurial and frequently red-drenched imagery is deliberate, complex, and relentlessly changing. The hyperintelligent sound design AND the soundtrack vacillate between hypnotic and hair-raising, often shifting through time and space out of pace with the photography. There isn’t a shred of padding in the storytelling, nor a single formal element that settles for filler or pure functionality. And of course, the acting, from every member of the cast, is really beyond the pale.
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN is a movie that, in my rich fantasy life, every prospective parent should be forced to watch by the government. Chic, cosmopolitan travel writer Tilda Swinton gives up her peripatetic lifestyle to roost with John C. Reilly in the suburbs. Reilly, a born family man, cannot conceive (huh huh) of Swinton’s unusually agonizing pregnancy, and entirely fails to recognize the antagonistic relationship between his wife and their infant son Kevin (later played by Ezra Miller), which appears to be calculated carefully from the moment of his birth. The little boy’s theatrical evilness, only apparent to his mother, increases in intensity and impact as he grows older, leading up to a gruesome event that could have been prevented had he not hidden his true nature so skillfully from everyone but her.
Now, back to my bizarre assertion that there is something reassuring about this story. People in general—or at least, breeders—have a delusional idea that their children somehow belong to them. That they can be “cooler” parents than their own parents were, that they can raise cooler kids than their peers will, that they can guarantee themselves intimacy and gratitude from another human being just by giving birth to it. While it is obvious that a child can’t help imprinting on a parent to some degree, the truth is that nobody belongs to anybody, not even children to their mothers. Any living creature can become any other sort of living creature, not only because of its experience of being alive in the world, but because of its internal chemical landscape. Often, the more the parent tries to assert authority, and material and emotional debt, over their child, the more the spawn responds with various declarations of its own independence. We call this “rebellion”, as if everything the child ever does is aimed at the family, but these expressions are real statements of the truth, that the child belongs to itself. If you can’t stand to expect that, I don’t believe you should consider breeding.
Now, at the risk of contradicting myself, it is also ultimately true that in spite of all the enmity and violence, Kevin and his mother share an intimacy unmatched by any other person in their lives. That Kevin’s rage is chastely directed only at his mother has its own kind of peculiar sweetness. He doesn’t appear to have any friends, and he treats his father to a shallow masquerade of filial piety. On the other hand, although his behavior hardly resembles love, Kevin and his mother know everything about one another. Through a few editorial tricks, plus hair and makeup, Kevin’s appearance is carefully matched to that of his mother. On the rare occasion that they attempt to socialize, there isn’t a shred of pretense between them; there is rather an adult frankness. Everything Kevin does is designed to provoke her and dominate her attention, in fact, to infiltrate every aspect of her life—in fact, he seizes upon her reading him Robin Hood as an opportunity to tie her causally to the brutal archery-enabled massacre that he will commit later in life. Mother and son are deeply close in some way that many apparently functional families never experience. So, to sum it up, I find WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN realistic about childbearing in a way that offers a much-needed respite from the narcissistic fantasies that pervade breeder culture. On the other hand, though, the strange stability and respect that characterizes Kevin’s relationship with his mother helps me survive the series of traumas that make up the narrative.
I admit that I have a few questions about intentionality, that I could probably stand to ask of authoress Lionel Shriver. There a suggestion (that I choose to ignore) that Tilda Swinton was somehow “asking for it”: she knows she would rather be traveling the world than raising a brood, she runs off on poor sweet John C. Reilly, and she foolishly conceives with him as an act of contrition. Culturally, Americans have grown accustomed to blaming single moms for society’s ails (there’s a million horror movies about that, don’t ask me to shoehorn titles into this overlong piece), making it a little too easy to see Swinton as an enemy of family values whose wayward behavior incurs the lifelong wrath of her son. I would really prefer not to believe that this is an organic part of the story, that I’m just poisoned by my culture, but I would feel remiss if I didn’t mention my suspicions.
On a lighter note, what the fuck is going on with John C. Reilly? I mean like John C. Reilly is just amazing. He can literally do anything. He doesn’t even have “phases of his career”, he is equally capable of being wonderful in shitty Will Ferrel movies, and in difficult art haus cinema, and he has been since we collectively became aware of him. I have a friend who worked on TALLADEGA NIGHTS, who told me that Reilly was so much funnier than Will Ferrel, even in just existing on set, that it totally blew everyone’s minds and was borderline awkward. I’ve been repeating this story for years, and came to think of it as simply emblematic of my opinion of John C. Reilly, but recently, finally, I have had to come to terms with the fact that I am actively obsessed with John C. Reilly. I don’t know what to do with myself, because this doesn’t really make me feel obligated to watch everything he’s in. I just think he’s amazing. I’m just dealing with it.
Tune in for PT 3 of this series, with more moms (sort of) and less arrows (but lots of other stuff) in GOODNIGHT MOMMY!
• so they adopted a daughter of Ganymede after the girl’s mortal dad died
• Her name is Blair Furter and she’s five when they adopted her
• she grows up to be super sweet but would kick ass if needed
• she loves her Mama (Kayla) and Mom (Reyna) very much
• she stays in the Apollo cabin since there isn’t a Ganymede cabin (yet)
• she’s albino, also she wears glasses
• she’s a dork
• she learned how to do a wolf stare from Reyna
• her preferred weapon is a bow and arrow like Kayla
• Nico and Frank taught her how to play Mythomagic
• she grows up to be taller then Kayla
• She knows Canadian French and Spanish
• they also adopted a grandson of Bacchus and great great grandson of Apollo (roman) bc his birth parents didn’t want him
• They named him Augustus (Gus for short)
• he does join Camp Jupiter but goes to Camp Half-Blood in the summer
• okay he’s a slacker
• he’s also very short
• he makes bad puns all the time
• his wolf stare kinda scares Reyna
• bow and arrow too
• he loves cooking
• he’s deaf
• okay so they also adopted a mortal boy
• they named him Zander
• sadly he only lives to be nine
• a group of monsters had attacked their home
• he was a goofy little kid who played Mythomagic with his older siblings and wanted to be a hero like his moms
You know it’s also messed up that Quentin is such a big character in Arrow like Dinah’s dad was a cop sure but he died when she was younger and so her mom raised her along with the JSA. We literally barely see her mom and they completely strip Dinah Drake of her status as a hero and her entire relationship with her kid is superimposed onto Quentin and Laurel rather halfheartedly.
Like not only did Arrow yet again completely fuck over a rather important female character but like we don’t need another dadcop to add to the already large pool of dadcops both in comics and in general. How much more awesome would Arrow have been if instead there was confilct between Dinah Drake and the Hood/Arrow with her being a retired vigilante and him just going around killing people to save the city. Hell they could even make her a cop as well like she hung up her cape but finally got to be a cop like she always wanted. We get to see Laurel and Dinah’s chaotic relationship and Laurel being rebellious plus kick ass ladies handing Oliver his ass on a plate
‘Ollie, please, just… Don’t even try to convince me to stay.’ ‘I won’t. I think it’s a good idea. You should get as far from Starling City as you possibly can. In our family, out of you, me, mom and dad, you are the best of us. You have the purest heart. And I can’t ever have you lose that. Okay? You promise me?’ ‘Okay.’ ‘I know that I haven’t always been the best brother, or friend, or whatever you’ve needed me to be. But there has not been a day since you were born where I didn’t cherish having you as a sister.’ ‘I’ll, um… I’ll get in touch when I get settled somewhere.’
I would like to … I really hope so, I really hope so. The boy needs some love, let’s face it.
Paul Blackthorne was asked about Quentin Lance finally meeting Donna Smoak, Felicity’s mom, next season. This bit of the interview is hilarious because Paul said he thought the question was “Is Quentin finally going to get laid this year?” (He even has a hashtag for it — #GetLanceLaid) So to Paul’s mind, at least, meeting Donna spells romance ;) (X)
Fandoms are so unbelievably sexist. Have you ever seen Diggle being compared to Oliver? Have you ever seen someone write “now that we have Thea, we don’t need Oliver anymore, because Thea is also an archer.” Have you ever seen people tell Barry that he cried too much last season and that he needed to shut up? Have people told Barry that he was being unbelievably selfish risking impacting the whole reality that he knows by going back in the past and saving his mom? Have people ever said that Cisco is only a good character when he’s being funny and a “comic relief”?
No, they haven’t. You know why? Because apparently, women can only exist to serve as a cheerleader to male characters or be a “badass” in skintight costumes. As soon as a show takes out time to show a woman struggling, a woman crying, a woman be wrong, a woman be right, a woman disagreeing with the male character, she’s a whiny bitch. Why do we even have the term strong female character” and not “strong male character”? I mean, have you ever heard someone write “he’s a strong male character” in regards to a man? No, because men don’t need the clarification (scoff) .
So please, think about this next time you say that Laurel is so much better than Felicity (and vice versa). Stop saying that now that we have Curtis, we don’t need Felicity. Stop saying that Felicity cried too much in this season or that season. Stop saying that Felicity was selfish when she wanted to save the man that she loved from being shot by the police. Stop saying that Felicity needs to be the perky Felicity from 2 seasons ago.
Because guess what? Felicity doesn’t need to be this or that. Felicity is perfectly fine the way she is, and if it doesn’t fit your agenda of how a “woman on a superhero show” should be portrayed, then tough luck. Cause it looks like she’s staying. Take your sexist crap somewhere else.
young felicity getting in trouble for counting cards whenever she’s spending time at the casino where donna works (◡‿◡✿)
young felicity patiently teaching donna how to use the phone, the tv, the computer and winning science fairs with donna cheering her on even when she has no idea what she’s actually cheering for
✿◕ ‿ ◕✿
also donna saving up for months to buy felicity whatever it is she so desperately wants for christmas that year extravagant birthday cakes and nerdy halloween costumes no one understands. ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)
donna doing her best to ensure that felicity has a beautiful and happy childhood despite everything