sirenrat - Tumblr blog

[sirenrat]

🍀🌱🐶🍀🌷

[sirenrat]

I’m obsessed with this man

[sirenrat]

Every time I remember this I laugh so hard I cry

[sirenrat]

[sirenrat]

in the age of shrinkflation, Subway execs must be kicking their marketing department down long flights of stairs for their branding choices. Building around their "sandwhich" sizes being 12 and 6 inches respectively instead of going with something like "full" and "half". Can practically guarantee they make the switch in the 3 next three years anyway, and pretty soon after that the sanwhiches will be smaller than (i hold my hands up, gesturing to the thousands of adoring fans, inviting them to say the punchline with me) "My.. Peanut.. Sized.. Penus!"(millions applauding) Goodnight folks. thanks so much folks thats my time no seriously youve been too kind but i really have to go thanks so much thank you no thank you (i am escorted off stage by hot security)

[sirenrat]

My grandfather and my godfather (a beloved neighbor and dear family friend) had a long standing bet- for one dollar- about who would die first. Both of them being slightly pessimistic (in the funny way), they both insisted that they themselves would be the first to die. Any time my grandfather had a health scare, he’d gleefully call up my godfather to boast that he’d be passing “any day now” and he was sure to win the bet. It was a big family joke and they were always amiably sparring and comparing notes about who was in worse shape, medically speaking.

When my grandfather was in hospice care dying of liver cancer, my godfather was quite ill also. It took him great effort to make the journey to see his dying friend. As he came into the room, supported by a family member, he shuffled to my grandpa’s bedside and silently handed him a dollar bill. He was ceding his loss of the bet, as they both knew who was going first. My grandpa had been in quite bad shape for a while and was no longer able to speak but let me tell you he snatched that dollar with unexpected strength and literally laughed aloud. He knew exactly what the gesture meant and he couldn’t help but find the humor within the grief. It was the last time any of us heard my grandpa laugh, as he passed shortly after.

When I talk about my appreciation for “dark humor” I’m not so much thinking about edgy jokes, but rather the human instinct to somehow, impossibly, both find and appreciate the absurdity that is so often folded into the profound grief of life and death. When I tell this story I think it kind of perturbs people sometimes, but it’s honestly one of my favorite memories about two men I really deeply admired. I could never hope for anything more than for my loved ones to remember me laughing until the very end, and taking joy in a little joke as one of my final acts.

[sirenrat]

Six of Swords

[sirenrat]

Speaking of linguistics, there’s one particular linguistic tick that I think clearly separates Baby Boomers from Millennials: how we reply when someone says “thank you.”

You almost never hear a Millennial say “you’re welcome.” At least not when someone thanks them. It just isn’t done. Not because Millenials are ingrates lacking all manners, but because the polite response is “No problem.” Millennials only use “you’re welcome” sarcastically when they haven’t been thanked or when something has been taken from/done to them without their consent. It’s a phrase that’s used to point out someone else’s rudeness. A Millenial would typically be fairly uncomfortable saying “you’re welcome” as an acknowledgement of genuine thanks because the phrase is only ever used disengenuously.

Baby Boomers, however, get really miffed if someone says “no problem” in response to being thanked. From their perspective, saying “no problem” means that whatever they’re thanking someone for was in fact a problem, but the other person did it anyway as a personal favor. To them “You’re welcome” is the standard polite response.

“You’re welcome” means to Millennials what “no problem” means to Baby Boomers, and vice versa.The two phrases have converse meanings to the different age sets. I’m not sure exactly where this line gets drawn, but it’s somewhere in the middle of Gen X. This is a real pain in the ass if you work in customer service because everyone thinks that everyone else is being rude when they’re really being polite in their own language.

[sirenrat]

[sirenrat]

she calls me pdf cause she's saving me to hopefully read for later

[sirenrat]

[sirenrat]

Stardew Valley~

available at my shop!

[sirenrat]

There is an absolutely infuriating trend of city queers assuming that no queer person could possibly want to stay and live and establish a home in a rural community, and none of us could possibly have a vested interest in staying and improving the communities we already live in. They act like all of us dream of moving to Portland or Seattle or the Bay Area or some other gentrified-to-fuck, capitalist-nightmare-with-a-shitty-rainbow-facade city, and to hell with our icky redneck homes.

I'm tired of the kind of people who come on tumblr to reblog endless stuff about how much they want to live a cottagecore life, while also being aggressively classist toward poor, rural, working-class queer folks who genuinely love their homes and communities and are making the best of dangerous situations.

[sirenrat]

Dungeon Meshi - Holm's undine, Marillier

[sirenrat]

oh this is nothing that chewing my leg off like an animal stuck in a trap cant solve

[sirenrat]