coffins-and-marbles - Tumblr blog

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hi trans people i hope you get to live. i hope you get to laugh so fucking loud and revel in how the wind blows through your hair and i hope you get to dress the way you like and i hope you get complimented on it. i hope you get to kiss someone or hug someone or hold hands with someone or be told how wonderful you are. i hope you get to dance to weird music and i hope you go swimming with no concerns other than how much sunscreen to put on and i hope you sing bad karaoke with your friends. i hope a kid spots you from across the road and realizes they don't have to live one way forever. i hope we all live

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I think the most fucked up thing about intrusive thoughts is it's really difficult to discuss them without discussing their content, because without a discussion of their content it's impossible to get across just how distressing and debilitating they are. "Oh, you have unpleasant thoughts sometimes? Yeah we all have that, I guess."

But if you discuss their content there's this huge risk of people just pulling away in disgust. "Oh god, you have THOSE sorts of thoughts? They should lock freaks like you the fuck up!" As if they think people act on every single thought they have.

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I’ve just realized. It’s time to tell you all. The story of the Great Dildo Heist.

I’ve mentioned before that I used to work at a sex shop. It was basically your average retail job except you’re selling sex toys. Aside from selling skills our most valuable asset was not giggling about the products.

When I was hired the manager at the time plopped a 20lb hyper realistic ass on the counter and said I must slap it with a straight face to work there.

I passed.

Now, our story begins a few years later with a new manager. You need to understand the store layout somewhat, so from left to right here are the zones:

A: Porn DVDs

B: Run of the mill sex toys, $10-50

C: High end sex toys, $150-300

D: Checkout

E: Lingerie

Before I go in to work I get a call from my manager. She tells me not to come in for two extra hours, because we’ve had a break in. This is especially surprising as we had really good security.

There’s cameras, motion sensors, alarms on the doors, and our store was really close to the local police station.

But our mystery thief was extremely savvy! They broke a window on the ground level near Zone B, sliding in amongst the safety glass. The alarms only activate on upper windows and doors, so our thief now had the run of the store.

We suspect that our daring robber intended to steal a whole lot of porn DVDs. But they, like you dear reader, were unaware of a crucial detail. We remove all discs and sleeve them up in a huge locked filing cabinet in Zone D.

So, foiled in the pursuit of a million hours of porn, our thief was left with the rest of the store at their disposal. And instead of proceeding to snag thousands of dollars of high tech, waterproof, rechargeable, high quality Ferraris of sexual pleasure, instead our intrepid interloper set their sights on something else.

In all the time they spent in the store, they were never once caught on camera. Between that and not tripping the alarms our robber was all set to emulate Danny Ocean in this magnificent heist. It was only on their way out that they happened to graze one of the motion sensors.

Now, right by our store was a 24hr Starbucks. Our thief could have strolled in with a backpack full of stolen goods and calmly sipped a latte while waiting for things to cool off.

But that’s not what happened.

What happened was that the cops found him a block away, sprinting as if his life depended on it with stolen sex toys flying out from his partially zipped backpack leaving fallen dildos in his wake like the most deranged trail of breadcrumbs imaginable.

When apprehended it turned out he’d stolen a backpack full of the foulest cheapest dildos money can buy, totaling not even $100.

Oh and also several tubes of a product called “Anal-Eze” which is a topical numbing agent to facilitate cramming stuff into your butt. (Don’t ever use it by the way, that’s how you end up in a hospital.)

He sobbingly confessed, “It was MeEeEeeE! I stole the diLDoS!!!”

And that’s the story of how I got to come into work two hours late.

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while we're here platforming for a funner tumblr: talk to strangers like you're a stupid teenager again. reply to a person's post in a tag even if you've never seen their url in your life. if you want. just like. loosen up and have more fun. it feels like for a while there some very weird takes about how we should interact on tumblr got popular and I don't love it. this site used to feel like Nov. 5th 2020 every goddamn day but now those are rare events. we gotta get back to it. everyone is getting too bitter

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sometimes pirating things is clicking three buttons and then the thing you want happily appears on your computer and you run off into the sunset together. other times you have to travel through 18 different dimensions and wait an hour and a half for you computer to muster up enough energy to download powerwash simulator off of so backwater site

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I think tumblr should be able to show you how many people have blocked you. Like not names or anything, just a rough number showing how many people have you on their blocklist. I want to know my hater stats.

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you cant woke anymore. because of sleep.

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I feel like one of the major ways sex ed failed me was the utter lack of discussion about vaginal discharge. Around 13 I started just… leaking fluids. It was on a set schedule, every day after lunch there’d be an uncomfortable wetness down the front of my underwear.

It was awful. Every movement was wet and cold unpleasantness in my pants. I’d go stuff toilet paper into my underwear and it would pill up and stick to my damp skin. That went on for a year.

I finally discovered panty liners and started wearing them daily, but with the unconscious fear that the overall juiciness of my pussy was unnatural.

I’d read people saying that cotton underwear would dissipate moisture and stop it from being a problem but no amount of natural fibers could evaporate what my crotch was producing. Since that wasn’t enough for me I worried I was abnormal.

I didn’t like wearing panty liners every day. It felt sweaty and wasteful but the alternative was to be wet and miserable. I still worried about it. But when I finally asked a doctor they just asked if it was more than my usual discharge. I said, no, it’s always been this way. They shrugged and assured me that meant my body was behaving reliably. Also if your discharge discolors your underwear that’s also normal cause of chemistry reasons

That reassurance didn’t come until my 20’s.

Finally a few years ago I discovered cloth liners. They’re reusable and clip into the crotch of underwear. I was ecstatic to finally have a non disposable option. I love them. Although the mainstream ones have polyester wings and I’m very excited to try the new all cotton ones I just got off Etsy. I think they were originally intended as light period protection but were robust enough for me.

So if you’ve ever worried about how wet your pussy is: it’s normal. It’s self cleaning, it’s doing what it’s supposed to do. You should worry when the amount changes and if you’re like me check out cloth liners, they’re excellent.

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ppl who celebrate fictional character birthdays are annoying pass it on

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I had this one coworker at the sex shop with the worst taste in men. We’ll call her J. Truly, she was a very sweet girl who would date absolute trashbag men. They’d crash her car, steal her shit, and generally treat her very poorly.

That didn’t mean the rest of the store didn’t play “Who Has the Shittiest Partner” because if there was any stereotype about the kind of girl who worked in a sex shop it was girls with absolutely atrocious taste. Not just the straight girls, either. The lesbian and bi girls had just as shitty stories. I was an outlier who always sat out these conversations because my partner at the time was so precious.

So we were all surprised and delighted when J’s newest guy came in to pick her up. He was nicely dressed, very charismatic, a widower. He was a bit older than her but we were all ready to overlook the age gap because he was so charming and J was so happy.

I only met him once or twice when he came to pick her up for a date but things were going well. She told us he was sad sometimes about his wife who’d gone missing several years ago but that he treated her like a princess.

That was great! We were happy.

Then the cops showed up one day. They asked if J was working and I got the manager. We never gave out schedules, not even to cops. But they did catch up to her eventually.

She came in distraught the day after. It turns out that her dreamy widower was wanted for questioning. Because apparently due to some new forensics process they were able to apply it turned out he very probably killed his wife.

I’m not sure if he still had the rug or whether they searched his house but apparently a rug from his possession was now testing positive for having had A Lot of Blood in it.

He ghosted J so she didn’t know where to find him but turned up not long after in police custody. We commiserated as best we could but anytime someone complained about their partner to J she’d just give them a look and instantly won the shittiest ex debate.

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thank you so much to all the daddies out there. I hope your twink(s) wish you a happy father's day today

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SAW fans will be like “omg they’re so in love!” & it’s two random middle aged men drenched in blood and on the verge of insanity who would shoot the other dead without hesitation if given the opportunity

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Learning new skills, look at him bounce!

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i love making gifs too much