professionalprocrastinator22

[professionalprocrastinator22]

Congratulations to Brooke from Let's Not Date for winning Father's Day.

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there’s a thing I think about sometimes when I’m writing that I call ‘the rabies condition’

by which I mean: there are no contraindications to getting the rabies vaccine for post-exposure prophylaxis.

every other vaccine usually has a few contraindications like ‘don’t take this if you’re allergic to it’ or ‘if you’re pregnant discuss the risks and benefits with your doctor’ or ‘don’t give to children below age 6′ or something, but not the rabies vaccine. if you’ve been exposed to rabies, there is literally no medical reason that can justify not getting the rabies vaccine–you can be deadly allergic to literally every single ingredient and the correct decision is still to administer the vaccine, because if you don’t, you’re 100% guaranteed to die of rabies. even the life-threatening allergies are a step up in survival rate (especially since anaphylaxis is something that can be managed, even if there are risks associated with it)

which is to say, the rabies condition: if a character has been ‘exposed to rabies’, aka, in some impending absolute worst-case scenario, like the apocalypse or some death curse or the destruction of their entire city via demons or whatever, then that character has to take action and the consequences and risks no longer matter, because literally any other outcome would be better, and 1% chance of survival is still better than 0%. that doesn’t make those actions necessarily good, the same way that injecting yourself with something you know you’re deadly allergic not a good thing to do, but it’s still better than dying horrifically of rabies. desperate times and desperate measures etc

and then, after your character’s prevented some horrible thing by doing some almost equally bad thing, they should absolutely experience the consequences of those choices.

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Happy pride month to my dad. When I came out as bi to him, this man googled what it ment, look at me and said "ohh. Yeah. You get that from me. You'd have far more siblings of I only shaged women." And went right back to his work emails.

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The problem with having a child with an attorney that has spoken to the child like an adult since birth is that she's 4 years old and she's negotiating the order in which we're going to complete tasks as a family to best suit her idea of an ideal day.

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Quote of the day

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straight men have beauty standards for men that are completely different than the beauty standards women and gay men have for men and then they get mad when they conform to the beauty standards other podcast bros set for them and women still don’t find them attractive

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let’s get on mama’s last nerve

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A note, because not everyone knows this: if you're driving and another driver flashes their brights at you, this is a signal to be on alert and slow down. There may be debris in the road, a cop out of sight, or an animal crossing ahead of you. (Or, alternatively, your brights are on and they're getting blinded.) Whatever the reason, it's a signal that you need to focus and reduce speed. And possibly turn your own brights off.

This PSA has been brought to you by the four fawns that ran out in front of me at various points on my drive home.

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This may be the worst use of LLMs anyone has attempted, ever. Up there with recognizing mushrooms.

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Baby’s gonna be AFAB (Assigned Finland at Birth)

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accidentally wrote a banger line and now i have to build an entire novel around it. classic.

[professionalprocrastinator22]

for a long time i lived alone, but then i got a service dog. after a lot of training, the service dog came to live with me—except, the same day the trainers brought quincy, an orange tabby tomcat also showed up.

"you didn't tell us you had a cat!" said the trainers, both very upset (because they hadn't trained quincy to live with a cat).

"i don't have a cat," i said. "I don't know who this is."

the cat never went away. i named him poe dameron and he lived with me and quincy. they got along fine, in their own way.

we had our quiet adventures. poe was very cuddly but sometimes he just took off for a day or two. once he got into some paint.

after a while, i found out that poe dameron really lived across the alleyway, and belonged to my neighbor elizabeth's teenaged son, and his real name was PUMPKIN. but poe apparently didn't like the teenaged son (probably not least because he named him PUMPKIN), so he had come to live with us instead. elizabeth was fine with it.

the years went by and one day poe dameron crossed the rainbow bridge too soon. i took his ashes to elizabeth. we were very sad.

a few weeks later, she asked me to come over to see something.

it turned out that poe dameron had also lived with a THIRD lady, a few streets over. this lady, whom neither of us knew, was a painter, and she had made this painting of poe dameron. i don't know what she called him, but she painted him like one of your french girls.

"i think you should have it," elizabeth said, tactfully. "after all, he spent the most time with you." i was quite sure she just didn't want this hideous painting in her gabillion-dollar house, but i agreed.

the painting now hangs in the kitchen over my stove—not least because its brick-red frame matches my curtains. and because it delights me to see poe dameron every day, looking so fluffy and sultry, like an orientalist renaissance odalisque.

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i feel strongly about this

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Personally I think I'm shockingly normal for someone who has spent every day on the internet since they were 12

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