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it is absolutely essential to have friends you can have extremely insane pervert conversations with. this is kind of what makes life worth living

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I thought to myself: how do I make it so “I can barely stand” sounds less selfish? And then it hit me how horrible that is, thinking that my disability is something to be used as a selfish excuse.

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Who up stroking they sword while lamenting the social realities.

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Daily Reminder To:

Take your medications that you need to!

Get up, stretch, walk around a bit!

Get some food and water if you haven’t in a while!

Plug in your device!

Feed any pets!

If it’s between 10 pm and 7 am and you have no reason to be awake, go to sleep or at least get comfortable and rest for a bit!

Check around you and stack any dishes and bring them to the kitchen! Including plates, cups, bowls, and utensils!

Do a quick look around and pick up any trash and put it in the bin!

Message anyone to check in on them and yourself! Respond to any messages you may have gotten, answer some asks if need be, let your family know that you’re alive and well, whatever you need to do!

If you need to and are able to, go take a shower! Or clean your face! Get changed at the very least, put your clothes in the dirty hamper, and feel better about it!

That’s all for now! Good job, I’m proud of you for doing that!

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does anyone have the screenshot of the comment on the youtube video of molten iron slag being poured where it's a guy describing his experience witnessing the same thing written in the most beautiful prose imaginable

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ghost stories are alarmingly easy to spread tbh

when I was like ten I was walking back from the chip shop near my gran's house with a neighbour and we took a short cut down an alley which was enclosed by garages except for one part which was wire fenced and led to the electricity shack

and while I was walking I chucked a chip over the fence. the girl walking with me, C, reasonably asks why I did that

"oh, don't you know?" I say, as if I'm not equally out of my own loop

she shakes her head. the enclosed alleyway has no streetlights. it's after dark. the shack is isolated in the distance.

"a little girl who lived up on the court climbed the fence once on a dare. she went up to the shack and touched it, but there was a wire sticking out, and when she touched it, she got electrocuted and died, right there. if you come back in the daylight, you can still see the black mark."

[editor's note: the court was the smaller road off the side of the crescent, which was the one C's family and my gran lived on. the houses there were slightly more expensive and newer, almost all occupied by wealthy commuters to the city, where most of the crescent houses were occupied by retirees and locals who worked on the trading estate. naturally, crescent kids hated the court. houses there got bricked about once a month.]

"no she didn't," C says

I made up this story for absolutely no reason and with no plan, but I'm not gonna back down now. "sure she did. and if you go past on your way back from the shops and you don't leave her an offering, she'll follow you home through the streetlights. one flickers behind you, then the next, then the next, until you get home. and then the lights start to flocked inside the house. even if you turn out all the electrics before bed, it'll be too late. she's inside. and you'll wake up on the night and see her, and she'll be so awful to see it'll stop your heart."

[editor's note: the streetlights always flickered. this was because our neighbour monkey george kept setting the junction boxes on fire]

"I never did before and she never followed me home!"

"do you come down the alley after dark? or do you take the main road with the streetlights?" I knew she didn't use the shortcut, because I'd been the one to talk her into it that night. she was three years younger than me and scared of the dark.

C claims not to believe me, but she throws a chip over the fence too, and walks the rest of the way looking over her shoulder. I get to pride myself for the night on being good at scary stories, and don't think much more about it.

fast forward six or seven years. I'm back in town. I'm on my way back from the chip shop, taking the same shortcut home. ahead of me on the road are a couple of kids I vaguely recognise as old playmates' younger siblings.

they stop, and I watch one fish out three sweeties from the pack they're sharing. they take one each and throw them over the fence. they carry on walking.

I realise that this is probably my fault, as are any resulting pest control issues around the old electricity shack.

when I get to the fence, I throw a chip over.

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YOUR EMBRACE 🌷🌝🫀

***

[ID: Digital illustration of a young man on his stomach in a headlock between another man’s thighs. The first figure has bright yellow skin, with short blue hair. He’s looking up and towards the viewer. The other figure is cropped just to his legs, which are a warm pink. Surrounding the figures are vibrant green leaves, and a quilt-like border framing it. The border is made up of colorful squares with different plants, flowers, or shapes. At the top is a small drawing of an anatomical heart between two stars. /. End ID]

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Straight guys who use tumblr are the funniest people ever literally how did you end up here

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I saw a lady today holding a kitten really high up so artistic rendition of it because it made my day. The lil guy was just okay with it

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once again a promising erotic story ruins the sexiness by concentrating on sex, the least sexy part of sex.

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Some of you guys have never burned a CD and it shows

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You are not a disability advocate if your entire point is "actually, disabled people (or people with x disability) Can do xyz!"

Imagine making disability advocacy/pride about ability.

Yet so many people do.

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"I want to be a dragon."

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Imagine unexpectedly popping up in Valhalla with your pants around your ankles because just half a minute ago you were taking a shit so bad that the Viking gods decided that it should count as dying in battle.