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I just made a delicious sandwich And youu dont get a single drop lol 💧 Starve

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Age 31 pretending to be asleep in the back of the car so my crusty & dead as fuck grandparents carry me inside

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I don't know how long this will last, but the situation here in Gaza is getting worse every day after the war between Iran and Israel. I forgot about Gaza. No one talks about us anymore, and the news doesn't mention us. All that is being discussed is Iran, Israel, and America.It's as if they forgot that the main problem is Gaza.

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did you know you can do anythingh with your ocs and no one can stop you.. did you know you can make aus of your ocs. you should make aus of your ocs

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please please please Dark World Butcher??? Please?? Dennis Collins again please? Snarling wolf like animal who just can't wait to get his teeth wet? But even more so?? Please?????

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Hey so part of the argument around gay rights in the late 90s through the teens was.

"Hey, this is totally different from the civil rights movement. The idea that blacks and whites shouldn't sit at the same restaurant together was a recent invention in history, contingent on really specific American culture, so that was easy to change.

"But gay marriage deals with some of the most foundational feelings in human psychology and some of the most universal and ancient cultural practices! It's absurd to think that some glib answer about "consent" could overturn thousands of years of culture and psychology! Unless gay people come up with a knockout argument, there's never going to be a change, and frankly there probably is no argument strong enough to make homosexuality truly acceptable, when you weigh it against the whole history of human psychology."

And then, oops, turned out "Yeah just let consenting adults do whatever" totally worked! We didn't need to answer any of those thorny questions of human psychology and it has been years since I have seen anybody bother to even ask them.

I leave any analogy to modern day trans politics as an exercise for the reader.

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“Ugh this prominent women in the Lesbian movement turned out to be a bisexual” “ugh this famous lesbian transitioned into a man” “ugh this queer romance writer turns out to be ace” “ugh this cis feminist author ended up being nonbinary” “ugh this writer on masculinity transitioned into a woman”

Oh no! We might have to recognize liberation as an interconnected intersectional struggle! Ahhh!!! >.<

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Lately I've been thinking about community. There are a lot of [likely obvious] reasons why I might be doing this. In the end, those don't really matter to this conversation, tho it'll surely matter in others.

When I was little, my mother had Dumpling Parties.

Dumpling Parties were not potlucks. Although people were welcome to bring additional dishes for snacking on.

Dumpling Parties were when my mother would collect some funds from various arenas in life and buy just. Just an absolutely ruinous amount of dumpling ingredients. Truly unthinkable amounts.

And then we'd sit in the yard with three dozen other people making dumplings and laughing and talking and organizing and honestly I think my mother did more community innoculation work at her Dumpling Parties than I've ever managed with formal organizing campaigns. It's just easier when you feed people.

And "feed" here is literal, but it's also metaphorical. Shorthand for "meeting a need". It's easier when you're meeting people's needs.

So my garden is growing in much better than year than last. And I'm optimistic about the chances of my tomatoes, beans, peppers, and squash doing beautifully. These are, mercifully, also things that are very good at producing bumper crops. We already give away eggs and such when we have enough to spare. But being able to give away produce is a nice bonus. Especially if you can mix up lil pre-prepped stuff with ingredient and recipe cards for people to snack on without having to make something themselves. It's a nice treat you know? To eat something you didn't have to pay for and put your time and energy into making. It puts people in the mood to see you as being friendly, as long as you get to know how they need to hear the script of "this is for you"

Sometimes when you're trying to change the world, you have to start by changing one person's world one time. Meet a need. And then another. And over time you'll learn what it looks like to meet them at scale. And before you know it you have a community of people you can organize, advocate with, listen to, whatever facilitation pieces of change-making we all need outside perspective for.

There are a lot of needs in the world. Not all of them get treated like needs, but they still are. Maybe take some time today and think about a need you've met for yourself or someone else recently, and ask yourself some questions of whay it might look like to do that with an eye towards building community

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I think the law on right to repair should give manufacturers two options: either you have to make it possible and practical for people to fix their own shit (as in, you have to sell replacement parts at reasonable prices, you have to provide repair manuals, you can't void warranties) or you have to fix your products whenever they break, for free, for the reasonably expected lifetime of the product.

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Some face practice :P

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Please forgive me for ranting, but...I am so tired of AI. Just so tired. I don't want Microsoft Copilot, or Google Gemini, or Meta AI, or whatever other energy-sucking, water-wasting, mediocrity-spewing LLM is currently being thrust upon me. I just want to be left alone to create in peace.

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Absolutely wild to me how sometimes you don't even realize the way you'd been taught to perceive things as a kid was kinda fucked up, actually, until decades later.

Example:

As a kid, I constantly lived in fear of damaging shit in my parent's house. The walls. The floors (especially the floors. The wood was beautiful. Shiny. But so easy to scratch). The cabinets.

As a sixteen-year-old, I once took my car to the dealership after work and paid a very dear sum of $250 ($10/hr cashier salary) to fix a slight scratch in the paint because I knew if my father saw it there would be hell to pay. It didn't matter that I parked far out, like I'd been taught, and someone scratched it anyway. It was my fault. I failed in my duties as a steward of my vehicle.

Every time I scratched a rim on a curb while parallel parking or got a door ding or, god forbid, didn't wash and vacuum that car every weekend, it was treated like some sort of moral failing.

Last year, when my husband and I first moved into our house, he scraped the side of our car when parking in our (Very Narrow) garage. When he told me, my first instinct was to be afraid for him. Like something terrible was going to happen to him because of this mistake. I urgently reassured him that it was okay, it was an accident, I wasn't mad. Baffled, he was like, "Yeah? I know? Like, thank you for the reassurance, but I'm only a little annoyed, I'm not upset. It's just a car." And I had to take several minutes to process that. It's...just a car.

We keep the car tidy. We maintain it. But we wash it maybe 4x a year. We only vacuum it after dirty road trips or when the dog hair starts to get annoying. It has scrapes and dings and the leather seats have stains. But that's ok. Because it's just a car.

This morning, I realized that a small rock had gotten embedded in the felt foot on one of our bar stools. Neither of us had noticed. There are now scratches on our beautiful hardwood floor. My immediate response was fear accompanied by a heavy measure of paralyzing guilt. "I'm so sorry," I told my husband, "I should have noticed. I'll figure out how to fix it, I swear. I can probably sand down that section and match the stain and--"

"Whoa, hey," he said. "It was an accident. And it's fine. Floors are going to get damaged. They're floors. We live here. There was damage in places before we even bought the house, remember? It's not a big deal. It's just a floor." Right. It's just a floor. Right.

My husband's mom is visiting and this afternoon, as I was sitting in the kitchen looking at the scratches on the floor, I offhandedly asked her if my husband had ever broken or damaged anything as a kid. "Of course," she said. Household items. A TV. A wrecked car during his teen years. I asked how she punished him.

"Why would I punish him for things like that?" she said. "They were all accidents."

Right. Of course. Right.

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watching my promised afternoon thunderstorm slip from a 90% chance to a 20% chance.... baby come back i can change

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op still has reblogs on but they have me blocked

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Wolfy the old English men were talking about you again. Should I Get Them.

What