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you bring your mommy GF home for the holidays, and it's a little awkward. neither of you really like that you have to call her your girlfriend while there, but your parents wouldn't understand. If they'd understood you maybe you wouldn't...

...

It's not worth rehashing right now. You go home because you always do. Your relationship with your parents is a bit tense, but it's acceptable. and this is what people do, right? go home? you do it because you're supposed to. because they'd be upset if you didn't. because going is easier then dealing with the fallout...

maybe.

they're pleasant, but interrogative. They can't stop asking questions. details, personal things of your partner that they have no right to know. you try and interfere, but you don't know how to tell them no. you never have. But she's strong. her strength, her will, is part of why you love her. she withstands their barrage with more dignity then you would've. she doesn't seem bothered. they're not the first.

That first night wears on, the alcohol getting everyone through the uneasy tension that seems to linger just out of sight. you feel small. its one thing to deal with them on your own, it's another to be witnessed. it's another to see your little home world through your partners eyes. none of it is quite what you remember anymore.

as the night winds down, the first slip finally happens. it's not you or her, but them. one of them makes a comment, something so casual and offhand that by the time the last word has left their lips they've forgotten the rest. but it lodges in your heart. it slowly creeps through you brain and traps you in a tiny cage. a pattern, a cycle present all your life, a fear you know you can't show because they couldn't understand. because they put it there. you change. you shut down. you keep talking, but there's nothing left in your voice.

they don't see it. they do, but they don't know. it's normal. it's you. it's what they know of you. it's how you react when words are said, and in their eyes it means nothing anymore. She sees it though. suddenly the person she came here with is gone and this weird, timid, joyless shell is babbling on next to her. Her hand on your back roots you again, and you fall quiet as the others talk. She winds the conversation to a close, prompts a goodnight from the room, and gently guides you back to your room.

it's changed. it's not yours anymore. if it ever was. it never really felt like your space, they were always in and out, it was really just the room where you slept. anything that was yours was hidden, tucked in the backs of drawers or shoved under your mattress. privacy was earned through subterfuge. Now that you're gone, that you've been away for years, it's just another space. an office, a den, some quiet space. it's completely different. it's exactly the same. it's just as much yours as it ever was.

she helps you undress and lays you down on the fold-out couch where your bed used to be. you can still hear them outside. the walls were always thin. you learned to cry silently. you still do. you're doing it now. she pulls the blankets over you both and holds onto you tight as you cling to her. you forgot. you forgot that this is what is was like. you knew it was bad, but the nostalgia of childhood is still powerful. you forgot how much it hurt to go home.

her hand glides gently through your hair. it traces little circles on your back and drifts back and forth across your shoulders. the lights are off, the sun is set, the world is dark. it smells like her. you cling to her as your mind begins to float through that abyss. she leans in to you. her breath is hot against your cheek. her voice soft in your ear. her whisper a bare mote above silence.

"I would've raised you better."

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what does the revolution must not be televised mean?

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>First, we’ve discovered that about a quarter of all the internet connection in or out of the house were ad related. In a few hours, that’s about 10,000 out of 40,000 processed.

>We also discovered that every link on Twitter was blocked. This was solved by whitelisting the https://t.co domain.

>Once out browsing the Web, everything is loading pretty much instantly. It turns out most of that Page Loading malarkey we’ve been accustomed to is related to sites running auctions to sell Ad space to show you before the page loads. All gone now.

>We then found that the Samsung TV (which I really like) is very fond of yapping all about itself to Samsung HQ. All stopped now. No sign of any breakages in its function, so I’m happy enough with that.

>The primary source of distress came from the habitual Lemmings player in the house, who found they could no longer watch ads to build up their in-app gold. A workaround is being considered for this.

>The next ambition is to advance the Ad blocking so that it seamlessly removed YouTube Ads. This is the subject of ongoing research, and tinkering continues. All in all, a very successful experiment.

>Certainly this exceeds my equivalent childhood project of disassembling and assembling our rotary dial telephone. A project whose only utility was finding out how to make the phone ring when nobody was calling.

>Update: All4 on the telly appears not to have any ads any more. Goodbye Arnold Clarke!

>Lemmings problem now solved.

>Can confirm, after small tests, that RTÉ Player ads are now gone and the player on the phone is now just delivering swift, ad free streams at first click.

>Some queries along the lines of “Are you not stealing the internet?” Firstly, this is my network, so I may set it up as I please (or, you know, my son can do it and I can give him a stupid thumbs up in response). But there is a wider question, based on the ads=internet model.

>I’m afraid I passed the You Wouldn’t Download A Car point back when I first installed ad-blocking plug-ins on a browser. But consider my chatty TV. Individual consumer choice is not the method of addressing pervasive commercial surveillance.

>Should I feel morally obliged not to mute the TV when the ads come on? No, this is a standing tension- a clash of interests. But I think my interest in my family not being under intrusive or covert surveillance at home is superior to the ad company’s wish to profile them.

>Aside: 24 hours of Pi Hole stats suggests that Samsung TVs are very chatty. 14,170 chats a day.

>YouTube blocking seems difficult, as the ads usually come from the same domain as the videos. Haven’t tried it, but all of the content can also be delivered from a no-cookies version of the YouTube domain, which doesn’t have the ads. I have asked my son to poke at that idea.

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you're the only one who understands me mr strobbery

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ohhhhh no, you're not playfully teasing your way out of this one

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plush mech. the mech is plush. it squeaks when it fires a ballistic missile at u and ur own

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Thinking about those people who want to fuck Lego Bionicles

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y-your honor, i would like to request that opposing counsel be barred from sounding a dog training clicker every time i mess up

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today was single handedly the best day of my life. i caught a cop stealing from the store i work at

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well on my hud i get glowing weak spots over the back of girls necks im allowed to "doll scruff" without getting in trouble

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very sexy image but she shouldn't use a drum magazine in these conditions or her firearm will malfunction. can you draw her with her pits out next

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(via)

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Am I getting a good grade in tumblr mutual?

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yea sorry we turned your boyfriend into a robotgirl

yae we slowly replaced all of her organs with new mechanical ones until shes a whole new person

we did use her old parts to make a new girl frankenstein style

theyre making out btw

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An overworked wishing flower