welcome to my freak zone

Sometimes taskmaster is the most insane show to be a fan of because the outcome of series 20 was essentially determined by Sanjeev Bhaskar (OBE) opening a cupboard door

Average Taskmaster intro

god i‘m going to miss these crazy people

maisie fucking sliding into the win there by a hair

Just dodged that all white male bullet there

me watching the taskmaster s20 finale essentially devolve into providing piss kink content on national television

on the one hand i understand why people don't like the word "consuming" to describe interaction with media and generally i agree but on the other hand there is something about it that can feel appropriate for certain things. sometimes it's like. yes i am eating this in fact. sucking the marrow out of its bones even

the world is so neutered it genuinely makes me soooo angry. you can't access any porn web sites in america without providing a selfie and your legal ID. if you save one photo of a shirtless guy to a pinterest board not only will pinterest disable pin recommendations for that board based on their "decency" algorithm, they will notify you that your board violates their policy. this website (and a few others) won't let you search any nsfw terms or even vaguely naughty words without censoring it for you and saying "this search looked sexy so we've prevented you from seeing results!" like what the fuck are we doing? i'm a 28 year old person. i'm an adult. i've seen naked people. i've had sex. if i want to look at some porn i should be able to do that. if i want to see erotic imagery online then i should be able to do that. what are these websites trying to protect me from? what are these websites trying to stop me from seeing or feeling or learning? why don't i get to decide what i see or feel or learn?

U will suggest something like stop relying on ai. Dont treat clothing as disposable. Stop buying things from Amazon. And your fellow landfillcore Americans will say: If I have to think about how my actions affect other people, I will die. Is that what you want? You want me to die?

HANNIBAL | 1x02 “Amuse-Bouche”

one of those nights where i'm overwhelmed by the alienation and hatred of place that's built into everything these days. nowhere on earth left untouched by the sound of aircraft. lights are on 24/7 and i can read a book on the sidewalk at any hour - night, which is almost half the world, is functionally abolished in many places, including in a checkerboard pattern around most of the places i live. the house across the street was torn down last year; what's getting built has less color, fewer facets, it can fit triple the renters; it was designed by and built by and owned by people who fear any connection, relation, opinion, desire.

coming home at 930pm and not wanting to cook in an empty house; almost every restaurant is closed and the streets are empty. (not quiet - in addition to the general hum or whine of lights, there's mosquito sound generators tucked into a couple spots. they're not on during the day because this is sandwiched between multiple school zones.) the restaurants that are still open charge $18 for the cheapest things on the menu, and the actual meals easily run to $40. lately i've been so busy and so poor that at least one meal a day has been a replacement shake pilfered from my job. neither the restaurant customers, nor i, are eating anything that has been in this area for more than the last few centuries, at best. the dumpsters in this neighborhood are locked inside the garages of the adjoining apartment complexes at night; forget stealing, i can't even rummage through the trash. i go home and make a salad; i am eating baby spinach in november, i am eating arugula in the pacific northwest.

thinking about the storefronts that are lit all night and the planes passing overhead. what it would take to allow quiet, dark, peace, back into the world. arguments i have in my head with neighbors, strangers. what would happen if all the planes are grounded - my job, which i do think is good, collapsing almost overnight. arguing with my boss in my head, with the department of health, to allow me to do slower work, work that brings people into the place where they are living, work that isn't flowing from transport chains and sterile disposables and the cheapest option for the most participants. imagining this work is alien even to myself, despite this being the focal point of my attention most of the day. considering the values that i hold, and what i think would need to be held to be able to live with respect to the world around you, and how far away it is from everything discussed in my line of work. the disposability of poverty; who is even afforded the dignity of discussing "sustainability" - locality - relation - attention.

my self, my life, the politics that i already live in - attention that i am giving to the smallest life i can see around me, most of them overwintering now. I cannot pass an outdoor speaker without fantasizing about its destruction; regularly i am thinking of bolos, slings, improvised spears, anything that could reach high enough to smash them, to make things a bit quieter. I drove 31 miles today and that was on the low side. remembering ten-lined june beetles in summer - they often get trapped under artificial lights, waiting for the sun to go down before they move. the sun never goes down. friends who know me send me photos asking about them, wondering who they are and why they're still on the porch in the morning. wondering if my explanations reach them - if they feel sympathy - we are all stuck under the artificial lights, waiting for the sun to go down.

if ur scared of bush then u don't even deserve to be that close to a pussy

The most important thing you can do in this life is write hyper-specific fanfiction for you and six other people. Don’t believe anything else you read.

who taught you that suffering in silence was noble, and how would you shutting up have benefited them?

this also counts for all those times you kept your mouth shut and didn't complain because you were being polite, and people would gladly have changed things if you had just asked. your suffering was not noble. you do not get a cookie for it, you do not get a tally mark next to your soul's score for grinning and bearing it. your suffering serves no purpose. break free of it. you deserve comfort.

couldn’t agree more that we need to bring back morality-free hating. make this your 2026 new year’s resolution

reblog and put in the tags something LOW STAKES that some bitch does that makes you annoyed. nothing that makes them a bad person or problematique, just annoying shit. and yes i WILL be tag-watching and if any of you spoil this fun game of innocent hateration you will be added to my list of annoying bitches.

anyway for me it’s this gal at work who won’t open her fucking mouth when she talks. bitch speak UP

some good examples. thank you to my fellow petty bitches

they know about they were in love here......