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WYLD TYMES

@skrytch / skrytch.tumblr.com

Nonbinary Widowed weirdo in his 40's trying to figure out what life means for someone like me. Born and raised in Texas now I live in Washington. I neither expect nor guarantee that you will be entertained..in fact you may be offended. If so, drop me a line. You may change my so called mind.

oh fuck I thought the intro to today's Money Stuff was going to be a metaphor for some crypto bullshit but no an actual metals futures market was backed by actual bags of rocks.

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THEY LITERALLY VAGUE EA-NASIR IN THE ARTICLE ITSELF ASDFGGHKGJKLSH

Source: {x}

“A Female Reporter”

NELLIE BLY. HER NAME IS NELLIE BLY.

You know what else she did??

Saved a ton of mental hospital patients from persistent & sickening abuse. She went in undercover, and the doctors, nurses, orderlies, etc trrated her like all the others. They essentially said ‘Who cares if you don’t like hiw we treat you? No one will ever hear you or believe you!’

Wanna bet? said Nellie Bly

Nellie was a fucking hero. You put some respect on Nellie Bly’s name.

“A Female Reporter” my ass

The link under the picture is literally a link to her Wikipedia page

Something something read articles instead of just skimming the titles something something

I am suppressing a long and pedantic essay that almost no one will like about “say her name!!!” etc in favor of pointing out (having just read the linked blog post) -

The asylum thing was her first ASSIGNMENT at her new job at the New York World after she left the Pittsburgh Dispatch because they treated her like crap.

When I read the post I was like “oh wow, very brave but clearly motivated, hopefully had some good insurance mechanisms in place.”  But no.  Literally this was her assignment, to go subject herself to the abuse taking place in the asylum, with assurances from her male superiors that they would get her released. 

#1, that’s incredibly fucked up, but #2, the fucking intestinal fortitude of this woman to actually do it and thereby catalyze meaningful change in mental healthcare AND reporting.

“I’m like, ‘Okay, she’s a doll. She’s a plastic doll. She doesn’t have organs. If she doesn’t have organs, she doesn’t have reproductive organs. If she doesn’t have reproductive organs, would she even feel sexual desire?’ No, I don’t think she could,” Robbie said. “She is sexualized. But she should never be sexy. People can project sex onto her. Yes, she can wear a short skirt, but because it’s fun and pink. Not because she wanted you to see her butt.”

Margot Robbie said Ace Barbie Rights with her whole chest.

idea: batman and the robins never acknowledge that there have been different robins. like they all act that there's only been one and that they're the same person basically.

Justice League who's used to teen dick not kid jason: who is this child?

Batman: what do you mean, it's robin.

-

Batman and Tim walking through the watchtower:

Justice League who remembers robin literally dying: ...*side eye*...

-

Flash: batman… who is this?

Batman: robin. you’ve met before. several times.

Flash: no, i met a black haired boy. this is a blonde girl!

Batman: her name is robin

-

Superman: it's time for you to explain. where are you getting all these children?

Batman: i have no idea what you're talking about.

Superman *pointing to damian*: who is this kid?!

Damian: i'm robin. i'm offended you would even ask that? don't you remember *proceeds to recite a story dick told him of his robin days*

when Lemony Snicket wrote “I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you everyday” that hurt me

“I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fettuccini and as the horseradish loves the miyagi, and the pepperoni loves the pizza. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer. I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness of the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written. I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp… I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguished and rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods. I will love you until the bird hates a nest and the worm hates an apple. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close… I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from slim to zero, I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, I will love you if you don’t marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else–and i will love you if you never marry at all, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all. That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.”

Lemony Snicket The Beatrice Letters

the waitress says he’s a regular. brings a lot of friends, too

Do cryptids tip in cash or like, magic rocks? Like, is it a really good night when a cryptid comes in and leaves a tiny twig with one bright green leaf?

*

In the four days since getting her job at Waffle House, Lizzie Q. (not to be confused with Lizzie H. or Lizzie W.) has seen three fistfights, two ugly breakups, and one ugly breakup-turned-back-together-turned-breakup. Ashleigh (not to be confused with Ashley) informs her this is all perfectly average.

“Look, when you see weird, you’ll know it,” Ashleigh says as she tightens her ponytail. Four people in full clown makeup and regular clothes walk in. “Not them,” Ashleigh says to Lizzie’s stunned look. “They’re just the Night Clowns.”

“And that is?”

Ashleigh shrugs. “No idea. Never thought to ask.”

It seems a ridiculous sentence to Lizzie. But then a giant, fuzzy black…creature with red eyes as bright as a traffic light comes in and gets sat at a six-top in her section.

She hurries over to the host, London. “I can’t take a six-top!” she hisses as someone at the bar starts to argue with the kitchen about how to make hashbrowns. “And not–”

“Oh, right!” London says, tapping their forehead with the stack of menus they’re about to tuck away. “Sorry, hon, forgot you’re new. But don’t worry. Moth and the others are super nice. They tip real well.”

“…the others?” Lizzie mutters, but London’s already walked off to subtly remove a plate full of leftover gravy from a table full of clearly drunken frat boys.

Lizzie glances over her shoulder. The…Moth…has been joined by a glowing white creature that is mostly legs, and Lizzie can’t figure out how she missed THAT walking in. As she steels herself to go over and take a drink order, the lights flicker, then come back on, and there’s a very tall man with exceedingly dry skin and something pointy jutting from his head.

It takes Lizzie another ten seconds to walk over to the table without her knees shaking. No one else in the Waffle House seems at all perturbed at this odd collection of…people?

“Hey, there. I’m Lizzie, and I’ll be your server,” she says. There’s suddenly an over-large rabbit with antlers in the fourth seat at the table. “Um…” Lizzie says. She glances around. No one is looking at her table except for Ashleigh, who gives her a thumbs up and encouraging nod.

“What can I get y'all to drink?” Lizzie manages to get out. She blinks, and when she opens her eyes, the last two chairs are full. One holds a human-sized…thing…with a head like a lizard, and the other seems to be a huge snake coiled around the chair, except it’s dripping wet but there’s no puddle forming on the floor.

tap tap tap

Lizzie looks over, and the Moth is pointing at the menu. “Yes, Sir, what will it be?” she asks on autopilot.

Moth taps twice under orange juice, then once under whole milk, then three times under coffee.

“Uh-huh,” Lizzie says. “Two OJs, one whole milk, and three regular coffees?”

Moth nods.

“Any creamer or sugar for those coffees?”

Moth shakes its head.

“Great!” Lizzie says and just manages not to shiver as she walks away.

Terry is at the drink station and gives her a grin as he fills several glasses with Dr. Pepper. “You’re gonna have a good night,” he says. “You got the lucky table.”

“Really?” Lizzie asks as she reaches for the coffee pot.

“Oh, yeah, those guys just like to come in and have a meal and hang out a little. They’re never a problem.” He sets his last Dr. Pepper on his tray and slides the whole thing onto his arm. “Well, sometimes Moth will stand up and walk over to someone and screech, but he means well.”

Lizzie doesn’t have a reply to that. She watches Terry take the Dr. Pepper’s over to a group of ladies in scrubs, and she gets the milk poured.

When she gets back to the table, she realizes she doesn’t know who gets what drink. “Who had milk?” she asks because it’s the easiest to start with.

Moth holds up one long, claw-like finger. Lizzie sets the glass in front of his place setting. He slides it towards the giant rabbit, who uses an antler to slide it to the giant snake.

Lizzie sets the the first orange juice down in front of Moth and watches it get sent to the man with the horn. The other orange juice goes to the bright white, long-legged…person?(?) Moth, the rabbit, and the man in the lizard mask all take coffee.

As she tucks her tray under her arm and pulls out her order pad, Lizzie realizes she feels calm. She isn’t sure why. But something about how Moth had helped her get the drinks sorted has made her feel more at ease.

“Okay then,” she says to Moth, who gives off a chittering noise when she makes eye contact, “What’ll it be?”

*

They linger after their meal like so many others. Lizzie rolls silverware on the host stand as Ashleigh eyes the cars in lot and makes guesses on how long until a fight breaks out.

“How often do they come in?” Lizzie asks when Ashleigh pauses to chirp, “Good night!” at the ladies in scrubs. She tilts her head towards Moth’s table when Ashleigh gives her a questioning look.

“Once a week or so,” Ashleigh says. “Always a six-top. But not always the same ones, except for Moth.”

“Terry said–” There’s a sudden, loud rustle and flap, a hard gust of wind rushing through the whole Waffle House. Lizzie hears the line cooks curse and one server yelp about “just swept my goddamn section,” and when she glances over at the table, Moth and the others are gone.

“I’ll finish your silverware,” Ashleigh says, taking the fork and knife and spoon from Lizzie’s hand.

“Thanks,” Lizzie murmurs, walking over to the table in shocked daze. The plates have all been stacked. The cups are clustered so it’s easier to grab them all. Tucked under the napkin dispenser is a stack of damp and crumpled bills that cover the meal plus a twenty-five percent tip. And under those is a tiny twig with a single, bright green leaf. Cool to the touch in a way that reminds Lizzie of walking in the woods with her favorite Aunt on very early mornings. Dew-touched, she thinks. That’s what her aunt always calls it.

“Oh, you got the twig!” Terry says. He hands Lizzie the busser’s tub he’s brought and does not help her clear the table. “Camden got the twig once. He said it’s still alive and that it reminded him of going hiking as a boy scout. I still don’t believe he was a boy scout.”

Lizzie chuckles. She’s worked with Camden once so far. He chainsmokes Virginia Slims and keeps his hair back with a sparkly yellow headband because his little sister gave it to him for good luck. “It reminds me of my aunt,” Lizzie says.

“Nice,” Terry says. He wipes down the table once Lizzie lifts the busser’s tub. “Those guys are a good sign,” he says. “They come in, the night gets a little quiet for awhile.”

Lizzie settles the busser’s tub against her hip, and a word comes to her. Jackalope. A big rabbit with antlers. Her grandparents have one mounted in their living room. Every time she’s asked her granny how she caught it, granny always has a different story.

Well, Lizzie’s got a story of her own now, she thinks, and she can’t wait to tell it. It’ll be fun, she thinks, to have a story about working at the Waffle House that isn’t super weird.

It’s been months and I’m still fighting this fight

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OP let it be known I tried to blaze this and it got rejected...

I guess we'll have to do this the old fashioned way.

Denizens of Tumblr!

You know what must be done.

had to be there i guess

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I told y'all it was a pun

A very long thread on it: https://twitter.com/lmrwanda/status/1505646738627088389?t=06aHTTZkf1ZaJyCDhWUzTg&s=19

And the punchline, if anyone wants to jump there directly: https://twitter.com/lmrwanda/status/1505648702119202823?t=IHkQWeElTa0T63o3lbr12Q&s=19

that's excellent

always remember, friend,

now go in peace

This meme was inspired by the piece "Lucky 10,000" by Randall Monroe.

[ID: “One man’s [“Yeah, the Time Knife, we’ve all seen it” meme] is another man’s [“Was anyone going to tell me?” meme] /End ID]

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internet heiroglyphics

Same taste in women

Future fic where they were never roommates but Enid heard that the weird goth girl with no friends was rich af so the entire year before graduation she tries to seduce Wednesday into falling in love with her so that she can marry into all that Addams money only for her plan to horrendously backfire when she starts to actually fall in love with Wednesday.

She’s convinced Wednesday hates her because she’s Wednesday and the far majority of her facial expressions range from bored to some type of pissed off with the occasional appearance of deeply uncomfortable. So she stops trying to force Wednesday to like her and just leaves her alone.

But then Wednesday’s like where the fucks my girlfriend? Because she thought they’d been dating for months now. She assumes Enid’s mad at her so she goes to apologise only for Enid to break out in tears and confess that she only started talking to Wednesday so she could marry into money but now she’s in love with her and she’s a terrible person etc, etc. And Wednesday’s like… “okay, and? I love you too. I’ll take you home with me and you can pick out one of the family engagement rings during break.” Because AN ADDAMS ALWAYS RESPECTS A GOOD HUSTLE!!! And Wednesday honestly might love her more now.

Wednesday: Mother, Father this is Enid. She attempted to marry me for our money but my superior rizz won her over and she confessed everything. But don’t worry I’ve been teaching her the art of scamming and she’s getting much better. I plan to propose at our graduation.

Gomez: You have your Uncles taste in women. He will be so very proud. Welcome to the family Enid.

Morticia: Yes, how sweet. Wednesday’s Uncle Fester married a brightly coloured woman who only wanted our money. She tried to kill us all. Did you plan to do that?

Enid: OMG NO! I just wanted a rich wife. You would all have been very much alive.

Morticia: Oh… that’s not as fun. But no one’s perfect. Aunt Debbie was certainly a singular woman.

According to some statistics it looks more like teaching sex ed (including consent) in school makes more young people realize they don't want to have sex yet or at all or don't want to do some specific sexual activities (also obvious from the increase of popularity of asexual-spectrum identities). Allegedly, young people who have accurate information about sexual activities and access to contraception, on average become sexually active later and are less likely to be affected by STIs or unplanned pregnancies.

Conservatives oppose sex education because it makes it harder for them to molest children

(That’s not a joke, that’s just a fact.)

It’s been months and I’m still fighting this fight

Avatar

OP let it be known I tried to blaze this and it got rejected...

I guess we'll have to do this the old fashioned way.

Denizens of Tumblr!

You know what must be done.

suddenly remembered this poem as i was making breakfast this morning & frantically googled “poem remembered to buy eggs?????????” & somehow managed to find it & it utterly knocked the wind out of me just as much as when i first read it

A quick reminder-- During the last WGA strike the studios refused to negotiate, walked away from the table, and basically forced the writers into a strike. Then they did everything they could to make sure the WGA took the blame for crew members being out of work, even when the studios refused to go back to the table. Meanwhile during the strike studios bragged at trade shows about how much money they were making with streaming and two studio CEOs took raises that were more than the WGA's wildest-dream-amount opening offers. Not their total salary, mind you. The amount of their raise was more than the WGA was asking for.

They're already gearing up to do all the same things again. So no matter what you read or see in the days to come, there's only one side to blame for this. And it's not the folks walking the picket line.