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that post about how waxwings are always photographed eating photogenic red berries ruined me. it’s all i can think about whenever i see another Waxwing Eating Berries photo. why do they only eat those berries why are they always conveniently in the berry tree in the first place do they never go anywhere else. do they have a sponsorship deal. what is Big Berry hiding from us

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a few doors down from me my neighbors have a squirrel bar nailed to the tree in front of the sidewalk, not exactly this but something like this:

it's been there for years and they never "stock" it so it's just sitting there. anyway, i thought it would be cute to make a little squirrel out of sculpey and leave it on one of the stools in the middle of the night. i also made a little sculpey beer bottle with its own label.

it lasted exactly one day and now it is gone. it didn't fall off, i stuck it on with tape. what do you think happened to it? your most fantastical and wrong answers only, please

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Goddddd I hate this crap. It looks so normal but if you look at it for more than 5 seconds it’s such a clear cut example of the subtle nudge towards tradwife “return to tradition” ass crap

Like

Why the 1940’s? Was that a more romantic and pure time somehow? Soldiers exist TODAY, so why that period? Was there something about that time that made relationships between men and women better somehow?

And why the obviously retro fashion? The finger waves, the red lipstick, the white lacy dress- What makes THIS SPECIFIC image so special? The time period? The relative modesty? The feminine appeal?

“to remind him what he’s fighting for”. You mean like a reward, an object, or a trophy? Á WHAT, the white picket fence and 1.5 kids, instead of a WHO? A dream of a perpetuated social ideal, a symbol?

Like GOD, it’s all so subtle that it’s soooo easy to believe that calling it out is an overreaction but all together it’s such a “women are better when they’re conservative objects / men should desire traditional femininity / the past was a purer time / reject modernity embrace tradition” message

Like literally tradfem tradwife dogwhistles everywhere it’s ridiculous

Like BRUH I hate to break it to you but pop-pop was giving his best friend a handy behind the barn in 1935 and gam-gam was mailing him nudes, people have ALWAYS been people and roleplaying a farmsteading settler family and having bad missionary sex with your submissive tradwife girlfriend isn’t going to make high quality furry porn and taxes and high fructose corn syrup and whatever else you think is wrong with moderns society stop existing, FUCK

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i love getting exposure to misc fetishes that im not into because imo it's really interesting to see what the invented scenarios, art pieces, stories, etc reveal about the primary concerns of the fetish-holder, like the specific traits that are necessary to make the fetish "work"

like as an example, one would expect the bimbo fetish to exclusively involve the "bimbo" characters being uhh Universally Uninformed, but there are novels & comics etc that depict like.... Bimbo Scientists. but the Bimbo Scientists' projects are like "how can i make my boobs bigger" "how can i invent a really attractive man" etc. it casts the fetish in this really fascinating light--like, the character *can* be Conventionally Smart, as long as she uses her education for like vapid & trivial ends, which forms this really interesting like Reconfiguration of the conventional images & signifiers of "un/intelligence", like as if to say that for at least some adherents of that fetish, the values & concerns conventionally associated with Foolishness & Vacuity are more weighted than the actual primary traits associated with smartness

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The Character will literally have you saying shit like "shes literally my special princess. she can do 9/11 as many times as she wants"

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This morning I came downstairs to discover that the dogs have invented a New Crime.

My husband get up very early for his Real Adult Job, and feeds Charleston (Black-and-cream Sighthound mix, mostly leg) and Herschel (40lb cardigan welsh crime tube), then lets them out into the fenced yard before he leaves.

I get up at the same time but take longer to boot up, so the dogs frolick about and discourage the local tree rats from lingering about the property while I get dressed/brush my teeth/try to not be psychologically crushed by The Horrors (TM)

Now it's pretty normal for me to find Herschel doing a high-speed yet startlingly efficient MC Hammer Shuffle on his stubby little legs around the base of the large honey Locust tree we have in the middle of the yard so he could keep his face pointed directly up the trunk at something in the canopy, because this his how he tries to herd squirrels.

...but Charlie is usually nearby, cheerfully play-bowing and encouraging the squirrel to come down, nothing bad will happen-!

This time Charleston is nowhere in sight.

I go outside to investigate and Herschel pauses to tackle me about the kneecaps as a greeting before returning to the tree.

Charleston is not behind the garden bins, nor in the side yard.

I am growing concerned, when I hear a telltale guilty scrape of claws above me.

Charleston is on the roof.

I shuffle out to the middle of the yard, until I can make eye contact with him.

He looks down at me, cheerfully wagging his tail, clearly anticipating praise for being such a clever boy.

I at least know how he got up there.

My house has a deck built off the second floor with a set of stairs leading up to it, and a large honey locust tree grows next to it. Part of the roof is easily accessible with a small hop from the deck.

The deck has only a minimal amount of railing ad the roof has none, so I blocked off the stairs with a board that was too high for Herschel, an inveterate explorer and criminal, to jump, but not Charlie.

I didn't worry about this at the time because Charleston is, in fact, The Best Dog In The Universe, and understands that even though he *could* easily jump various barriers, it would be *impolite* of him to do so.

Charleston is Extremely Polite and thus almost never commits any crimes.

...Almost Never.

Charlie has exactly two vices, which aren't even vices because his ancestors were bred for millennia to do these two exact things.

The first is that he is HIGHLY leash aggressive when I'm present (We were both attacked by a St. Bernard the first day I had him and Charlie has decided Strange Dogs Are Not Allowed To Approach Me)

The Second is that he has the Prey Drive From Hell.

He has chased bears and bulls with full murderous intent.

He almost got me arrested because he cut his leash to chase a pronghorn antelope in front of a park ranger.

It is only for the sake of my saftey and pursuit of prey that he will break the rules.

Today, he has his nemesis cornered

Charleston isn't clever the way Herschel is. He's never really explored using his toys as tools, whereas Herschel speedran the early stages of hominid tool use as a puppy. Arwen was a logistical sort of genius who managed to terraform my parent's yard into Rabbit Thunderdome.

Charleston's genius is... psychological.

If the Squirrels see both dogs, they run for the fence, but if they only see Herschel, they run for the tree.

Charlie is much better at tracking and guessing the route his prey might go, so Charlie runs for their preferred escape route of the tree instead of chasing them.

The squirrels compensate by running for the fence, which is farther away in general, but they have a head start on the dogs.

At Some Point, charlie managed to work out that if he stays in the shadows under the deck, the squirrels won't see his mostly-black body, especially when Herschel charges into the sunlight and catches it on his white ruff.

Charleston realized, long before I did, that there is only the ONE branch that overhangs the roof, and therefore if a squirrel runs up the tree, it only has ONE way out of the yard.

The real genius was combining all of the above into the realization that he could let Herschel charge the squirrels, run through the under-deck shadows and up to the deck and roof while the squirrels are distracted, and plant himself on the roof where the squirrels HAVE to land without them seeing him until it was too late.

-And so we stand this morning.

Herschel at the foot of the tree, preventing the squirrel from running back down and heading for the fence

Charleston square in the landing zone on the roof, at the ready

The squirrel paralyzed on the branch between them

...and me, only sort of awake and realizing that I'm probably the dumbest mammal here.

I need to figure out how to disentangle these beasts without anyone getting maimed. Charleston has the blood of his ancestors baying for the flesh of his nemesis in his ears. Herschel is dangerously close to figuring out how to get on the roof himself. The squirrel is contemplating some truly dire Maneuvers, including dropping out of the tree and assaulting me to buy time.

I haven't even had my coffee yet.

"Charleston." I say with a very aggravated sigh. "That's not where dogs go."

Charleston whimpers.

He has Disappointed (TM) me.

A fate worse than death.

He starts to walk back to the deck, but as he takes a step to leave, so does the squirrel, and he is pulled back by millennia of instinct.

This will require. Delicacy.

or delicacies.

"Stay. I'll be right back." I tell the dogs.

I go back into the house, and retrieve The Best Treat.

The Cat's Wet Food.

Both dogs crave this Most Forbidden snack with an irrational passion, and it is usually both out of reach in the cat tree AND defended by Mochi, who rules the dogs with an Iron Paw.

I return to the yard, and open the can in full view of both dogs.

"Charlie?" I call. "Do you want Wet Food?"

He is halfway down the stairs before I can finish the question.

Herschel switches his orbit from the tree to my person, and I have to shuffle to avoid tripping over them as we go back inside and the squirrel flees.

None of this is the new crime.

I go out with them later to pull Yet More Thistles, and a few minutes in, I hear a little 'huff' from Charlie.

I look up, and he's standing on the stairs, paw up to indicate he's going to jump over the barrier board and go right back up there.

You know.

...Unless there is wet food to be had.

The children have figured out how to commit extortion. I text my husband.

They're so smart! Do you think we can set them on the jackasses across the street? My husband asks, ever the practical man.

I'm going back to bed.

---

I'm a disabled writier who makes my living tellng stories. if you liked this, please consider giving me a Ko-fi tip, or pre-ordering the Family Lore book of stories on my Patreon. Thank you!

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the five homoerotic love languages:

- intimate stabbing

- outright obsession

- confused pining

- "no one knows me like you do"

- lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows

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the five homoerotic love languages:

- intimate stabbing

- outright obsession

- confused pining

- "no one knows me like you do"

- lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows

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JOY HAS A HABIT OF RETURNING. BTW

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"I've been wanting to ask, why does the bird wear a tiny hat?" "I made it for the tiger but the bird keeps taking it." KPOP DEMON HUNTERS (2025)

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Shakira says the best way to stop fast on muddy ground is to lift your forefeet and slide, without any regard for the focus of the camera.

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Swallowed by the fog

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