nutterwithasolderingiron

[nutterwithasolderingiron]

For the record, it at least was legit.

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Girl when I tell you my life flashed before my eyes

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I’ve come to make an announcement: Shadow the Hedgehog’s a bitch-ass motherfucker, he pissed on my fucking wife! That’s right, he took his hedgehog-fuckin’ quilly dick out and he pissed on my fucking wife, and he said his dick was “this big,” and I said “that’s disgusting,” so I’m making a callout post on my Twitter.com: Shadow the Hedgehog, you’ve got a small dick, It’s the size of this walnut except WAY smaller. And guess what? Here’s what my dong looks like! That’s right, baby, tall points, no quills, no pillows — look at that, it looks like two balls and a bong! He fucked my wife, so guess what, I’m gonna fuck the Earth! That’s right, this is what you get: my SUPER LASER PISS!! Except I’m not gonna piss on the Earth, I’m gonna go higher!! I’m pissing ON THE MOON! How do you like that, Obama?! I PISSED ON THE MOON, YOU IDIOT!! You have twenty-three hours before the piss drrrrroplllllllets hit the fucking Earth! Now get outta my fucking sight, before I piss on you too!

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Swimsuit Gram Spicy alts for patrons

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comm

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claire’s

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Gram rkgk

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ROLLER DERBY KISSES, Acrylic on MDF and leather, Riikka Hyvönen

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*wokely* tell me what genitals you have, stranger i just met

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Transgender synth pioneer, Wendy Carlos (1939). She composed the TRON soundtrack—one of my favorites actually, with its unusual love theme and perfectly placed electronic action beats. She also composed music for A CLOCKWORK ORANGE and THE SHINING. Much more commercially successful though was SWITCHED-ON BACH (1968).

On the topic of her gender transition, she said,

“The public turned out to be amazingly tolerant or, if you wish, indifferent... There had never been any need of this charade to have taken place. It had proven a monstrous waste of years of my life.”

There’s a lesson to be learned there. How many times do we put off or abandon doing something because of what other people might think? And how often does it turn out that these other people have their own problems to worry about and don’t really care anyway? We’re always performing for a highly-critical, invisible audience it seems—or not even performing, just waiting anxiously in the dressing room.

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Note to self do not leave pens in the car in arizona i gUESS????