#I also think that Mr cancer might be a racist but I’m not sure

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

I’ll make you get canceled and called part of a harassment campaign for not being friends with a guy who kind of sucks

[mynameusedtobekatie]

Can people please stop bringing up Dumbledore being a little bit shady on EVERY SINGLE post about Snape? Dumbledore is no where near as shitty a person as Snape.

He did some shady shit absolutely but people blame him constantly for things Voldemort did, things that are literally 100% out of his control, and things they just make up.

Dumbledore is the one of the few characters that takes any responsibility for his mistakes and tries to better himself. He founded and led the only resistance against the magical nazis. He discovered the only way to stop Voldemort, endured physical and mental agony to retrieve multiple horcruxes, and taught Harry his thought process instead of just his findings so that Harry would be able to continue his work in the fight FORCED on Harry by Voldemort. Most importantly: HE DID NOT RAISE HARRY LIKE A PIG FOR SLAUGHTER. This statement by Snape is literally the stupidest claim but people genuinely believe it because their precious Snape said it was so!

Let me break it down real simple like:

1.) Dumbledore had no idea when Voldemort would return. Voldemort could have returned when Harry was 58 years old. Would people still claim that Dumbledore raised Harry like a pig to be slaughtered? Probably not. Dumbledore would have done LITERALLY NOTHING different, let Harry learn and grow like every other student, and when he graduated and was oh I don’t know an ADULT he would have told him the horrible shitty truth that is literally in no way Dumbledore’s fault.

2.) Let me reiterate. The only thing Dumbledore did was learn something that was real fucked up. He learned it and didn’t know how to tell a CHILD. Yup. Dude’s Satan. So Dumbledore learns that Voldemort can literally never die unless he first kills Harry. Totally Dumbledore’s fault and not Voldemort’s. *eye roll* Dumbledore knows this information and decides, say let’s NOT tell the 12 year old. Let’s instead let him attend the school like the rest of the students and have a (somewhat) normal life.

3.) The only problem is that people are literally trying to murder this poor boy. So he protects him. This is my favorite part because Snape gets pissed that they spent all this time protecting Harry just for him to die by Voldemort’s hand... like if he was gonna die they should have just let it happen year 1 am I right??? That’s great logic fam. “I mean that kid has cancer so I just let the truck hit him. I wasn’t gonna save him just so he could die next year!” People legit hate Dumbledore for PROTECTING HARRY because he knows he’s going to die someday or Voldemort could literally never be stopped. Dumbledore knew Harry would have to sacrifice himself one day. Wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t Harry’s fault. Spoiler alert! Dumbledore would have protected Harry even if he DIDNT know Harry was a horcrux! Hard to believe I know...

4.) Ah nuts Voldemort returned and Harry is still a young teenager! Not Dumbledore’s fault. Now he realizes that if Voldemort wants to he can look through Harry and potentially possess him or use him to get to Dumbledore. So he shuts Harry out. He figures if Voldemort thinks Harry has no real connection to me he won’t use Harry to get to me! And he’s right! But he’s also wrong. Because Harry feels isolated and alone and he becomes vulnerable and he IS used. And Dumbledore screwed up and he ADMITS IT. And APOLOGIZES for it. And he remedies it. He says Harry it ain’t your fault you’re in this shit and it ain’t my fault but by god I’ll help you get ready for it! And he tells him everything except one little thing. Because Harry is still not an adult. And telling a FUCKING TEENAGER that he can only stop magical hitler by sacrificing himself isn’t exactly easy.

5.) Here’s a big one. I’m going to use caps again. DUMBLEDORE DID NOT KNOW THAT HARRY WAS A HORCRUX UNTIL HARRY WAS AT LEAST 12 YEARS OLD. Yes that’s right. And even then HE WASNT SURE UNTIL AFTER VOLDEMORT RETURNED. Dumbledore suspected horcruxes after he had the ruined diary in his hands. Harry was 12. How the fuck he “raising Harry for slaughter” before he knew Harry was a horcrux? He was still figuring this shit out up until the day he died! Slughorns memory was so important because Dumbledore DID NOT KNOW FOR SURE if it was all horcruxes or some other fucked up dark magic or how many Voldemort might have tried to make. Yet people genuinely believe that Dumbledore knew from the day Harry was born that he was going to have to sacrifice himself.

6.) So back to before his death he teaches Harry everything he knows about stopping Voldemort. He lets Harry figure it out on his own by showing him the pieces and making Harry work it out. He learns at the same time. He has not forced Harry into this fight. VOLDEMORT forced Harry into the fight and Dumbledore knows that Harry needs help. Because he’s a fucking teenager still. And he leaves it to Snape to tell Harry because Dumbledore will die before Harry is an adult and maybe Harry can live a little bit longer and finish his last year at Hogwarts before being burdened with the shitty truth that he’s a horcrux. Dumbledore died before Voldemort got control. He didn’t know. Maybe Harry had years left before his sacrifice.

7.) Sacrifice. Harry made the choice. And sure Harry was always going to make that choice. You can say “not much of a choice though!” And sure. But please tell me how much of a choice Dumbledore had in this matter then. Dumbledore taught Harry about horcruxes and believed it better to not burden him with such a shitty non-choice until the last possible moment. Maybe that was wrong. But don’t try and say that Dumbledore made Harry do anything. Dumbledore taught Harry everything and he gave Harry the choice in the end. It had to be Harry’s choice. And it was. VOLDEMORT did this. Dumbledore simply knew.

So here the question for people that believe Dumbledore raised Harry like a pig for slaughter. What should he have done? Told Harry at 12 or 14 or whenever he was sure Harry was a horcrux that he had a racist murdering maniacs soul inside of him that would keep said maniac alive forever until Harry sacrificed himself? Made Harry’s choice for him and refused to ever tell him the truth so he could never sacrifice himself? Raise Harry like a child soldier with the sole purpose of destroying Voldemort (you know ACTUALLY treat him like a pig raised for slaughter)? Force Harry to live in the muggle world his entire life?

Since letting him come to Hogwarts as a child growing and learning and making friends like every other student, helping him when needed, protecting him from people after his life, treating him like every other student until Voldemort returned, trying to protect him from Voldemort and when that fucked everything up owning up to it and apologizing, and teaching him about Voldemort’s past and helping him work things out on his own to be able to fight in the fight forced upon him by Voldemort makes Dumbledore such a shitty person apparently...

That’s the end of my rant. I want to say. Dumbledore really fucked up by not checking on Harry prior to Hogwarts and intervening when he was literally being abused. (This and not doing legitimate checks on his professors behavior *cough* letting Snape abuse children *cough*) Mrs. Figg did a horrible job watching Harry and Dumbledore obviously felt that leaving Harry to his family was going to work out without making sure everything was ok. It wasn’t. Get mad at Dumbledore for never checking on Harry at the Dursley’s but NOT for shit that was Voldemort’s fault or for shit that was out of his control or really fucking difficult to deal with like learning that a child has a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside of him. Dumbledore always tried to do the right thing. He cared about the innocent and fought magical nazis because THEY WERE FUCKING MAGICAL NAZIS.

He did a lot more good than anything else. And when he was a little shady it was typically because he was TRYING TO STOP MAGICAL NAZIS and you can’t always do that with sunshine and honesty.

[amazingjackthefactfinder-blog]

Southern Cut Calamity

Here comes the wave of applause doused with honor and glory. I’d like to say I do this strictly for the sake of spreading quality journalism to the masses but I’d be lying if I did. A portion of me craves the complimentary spotlight that comes with releasing a mouthwatering segment. This news team had broken ground on a gold mine of success. Each press release has been an excavation of a cavern leading to paydirt. Yet a common motif of dread is hovering around each developing accomplishment. When will the bubble pop? A moral question is raised as well upon the idea of one media outlet having enough clout to control the ebb and flow of public opinion. Will the tides eventually turn? I have to accept that my career as a reporter is leaving a mark on society that is permanent as skidmarks in a pair of granny panties. Its Monday now and of course it seems mundane but that’s how most days begin and i can’t discount the potential of more life altering news. I play a tape of an exclusive interview I had with congressman Luther Strange of Alabama. I hear his southern drawl dribble out his cheeks with long pauses as if I were waiting for his words to coagulate and clot into sentences. He talks of his road to Capitol Hill and the sacrifices he has made for the people of his state while being unwavering on his principles. Typical government suit, always overzealous towards the topics of conversation his constituents could care less about while casually duck diving beneath the questions that have any meat on their bones. I stop the tape and rap my fingers against my temple. What to make of all this. There is so much expectation from our listeners, I can’t give them a poppycock edition of 60 minutes. They would burn me at the stake, and I’ve already announced information would be released about the Alabamian senator. I open my web browser and decide to catch the next flight back to Huntsville International Airport where I was greeted not 3 days prior by the men of Luther Strange’s entourage. Something didn’t sit right with me as I left our previous pow wow. Luther’s last name wasn’t the only thing strange about our discussion and at the moment I had no other stories occupying my dossier. At times a reporter must trust his gut and follow intuition when no obvious scandal rears its head. Hours passed and I was experiencing severe jet lag but I arrived nonetheless at our original meeting place, the Huntsville Museum of Art, to investigate as to why the senator would meet in such a public place rather than in his plush office. The curator of the museum was at the door speaking with a group of collectors. Upon this visit I was able to make out his face and recognized him as Sal Gumby from the cover of a recent issue of Artsy People of Alabama. He must know something. Seeking out important leads becomes a sixth sense after you’ve been working the city beats as long as I have. He’s up to something I’m sure of it. I walk past him and nod in his direction, he doesn’t seem to remember me. That was his first mistake. His second was his undoing as he said goodbye to his peers and walked down a a corridor in solitude. The thick shag carpet although tacky made for a near invisible pursuit as I snuck closer and closer to my source. A sharp left was made and I followed mere feet away. That’s when I pounced and hit Mr. Gumby with a jawdropping question in the form of a lead pipe. He was out cold. Actually as i take a closer look I may have cracked his skull with the blunt force trauma of metal and inquisition. “Fuck” I say under my breath, why must I be so cavalier in my opening statements. Yup, he’s bleeding out faster than slit pig. I quickly open my bag and start foraging for the mickey mouse band-aids I know are floating around my pack. I hear a low moan and I worry someone might be alerted. Again with the pipe, the band-aids are a lost cause, and down goes Gumby for the eternal count. Well there goes my only lead. Now I’m stuck in the deep south with the blood of a beloved Art Curator on my hands and it’s getting close to closing time. I’m sure Mrs. Gumby will be expecting him home any minute now. I grab the iPhone from Sal’s pocket and begin to type. “Hello to my beautiful wife. I wish I could make it home for dinner tonight but alas I would like a divorce and never want to see you, the family, or any of our friends again. Please do not look for me and close the museum for good with no hope of anyone else entering. This includes you my newly divorced ex-wife. (That means lock the doors from the outside.) I will mostly remember you for your ability to follow instructions and never question my whereabouts, how fondly I will recall your embodiment of those traits. Please do not let me down or else I will be very disappointed during the pursuit of my new hobby, swinging lead pipes wildly above my head with an apathy towards safety. I will now live out the rest of my life however short it may be doing what I love, and that is I repeat, throwing caution to the wind and violently flailing a lead pipe near my own cranium.” That should clear things up for the wife and give me a way to present any proceeding case to a court jury with a dash of “reasonable doubt”. As i place my trusty bludgeon in the cold lifeless grips of a seemingly innocent art enthusiast I find the keys to his office have fallen on the ground. It seems today is my lucky day after all. I stumble to Gumby’s office still shaken from the recent homicide, but that was expected. I reach out to unlock the door but it pushes open as if it wasn’t locked at all. What do you know, it wasn’t locked. I’m beginning to think murder was a bit over dramatic at this point when i could have simply walked in here alone with little to no supervision. Now that I think of it I don’t even remember seeing security anywhere on the premises. Well it’s the thought that counts they say. I never have been good with idioms and that phrase didn’t seem to fit the situation but it sounded nice to me anyway. I snap out of my internal monologue and my eyes open wide as I am rummaging through Gumby’s desk. Nestled between the countless paperclips and other office supplies, a tuna sandwich and an old edition of a sports illustrated swimsuit magazine I see now what I have been looking for all day. I see a photo of the senator. He is standing next to what looks like a Nazi, a high ranking member of the KKK and none other than actor Paul Reubens, who plays the beloved Pee Wee Herman. In the foreground the senator, Nazi, and Klansman are all smiling giving a thumbs up while burning a manila envelope labeled “List of Cures for Cancer”. In the background Paul Reubens is holding up the “Shocker” symbol spray painting various ethnic slurs on the side of an old folks home. Unsure as to why the art curator had this photo in his possession but happy my off kilter excursion was coming to a close I left the office in comforted silence. I’m chalking this up as a win in my book. I don’t have to go looking for a senator who before today nobody was going to give a shit about and I have dirt on that very same senator who will soon be notorious as the racist nazi sympathizer who hangs out with a surprisingly crass, racist in his own rite, actor Paul Reubens. I can see the headlines now “Shocking Photo Drives Alabama Senator to Resignation and Paul Reubens Fans to Tears: We Did Nazi that Coming”. And just like a revolving door this investigation opens and closes with ease. Unrelated to revolving doors, this investigation also lead to the mysterious disappearance of Art Aficionado Sal Gumby. Alabama mourns the loss of its one artsy fartsy person.

Legal Advisory: Documents of this nature have never been admissible in trial court therefore none of my previous writing shall condemn me to death row or any fine/jail time. Any and all implications of guilt leading to my arrest on the charges of murder, attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, trespassing, breaking and entering, defiling a tuna sandwich, and/or attempted kidnapping brought about by this non-fiction story are considered faulty in concept and the person/s bringing forth these allegations will be prosecuted under the full extent of the federal and state laws regarding slander.

[skeletonsandrosescrisisline]

School Fucking Sucks

Some might look at this post and think that it's just another bullshit one by a teenager who hates school. Today that isn't the case. Small Schools in my opinion suck more ass than big fucking schools. At the end of my last school year (my Sophomore year) students from I think Seventh grade up we're given these bullshit papers that said 'Sign Out Sheets.' Basically you got your teachers, all eight of them, to sign this piece of paper bullshit and put down your grades, if you have any work and their signatures. I've gone to big schools almost my entire life, I've moved back and forth from California and Nebraska since I was six, currently I'm seventeen. Well in my Freshman year at a huge school with almost two thousand students or more, we didn't have this sign out sheet bullshit. When we took our Final, we were told our final grades and by the third day of school left, we already had our grades. For those who didn't do Finals for a class, they were told what their grades were on the last day of that class, either way we got our final report cards by the end of the school year. Now let me tell you a flaw in this tiny ass bullshit school's plan, teenagers are not going to want to go to every class and get a stupid sheet signed, have to deal with asshole teachers and peers at the end of the year and have to fucking come back to school during Summer, in order to get this bullshit signed. I know for a fucking fact I wouldn't and my friends wouldn't, normal teenagers wouldn't. Well one of my teachers and I got into an argument over this bullshit. That dumbass teacher who decided to tell me that my fucking school, the school that I adore, is a piece of shit and doesn't care for anyone, her name is Mrs. Trampe. I kid you not, her name is Mrs. Trampe and everyone, EVERYONE fucking loves this stupid bitch. So, me and that stupid bitch argued, because I asked a fellow classmate, why we have to have these stupid things when this school is the only one who probably has this bullshit in place. Well Mrs. Tramp (See what I did there) told me that it's because 'We care about our students and want them to pass' yeah sure bitch. You guys care sooo much about us, you let a thief back in after being expelled, an asshole back in after threatening to bring a gun and shoot me for the second damn time and the first time, he fucking brought the damn gun. You guys let your stupid fucking students corner me in a fucking bathroom and threaten me, than get mad when I tell your asses that if it happens again to me or my niece I will beat someone's ass. Fuck you, you bullshit ass school. Well I told her that they don't care and she says 'Oh we care more than your school in California does'. I swear I saw fucking red when she said that, I told her that when my great grandfather got into a fucking wreck the principal and superintendent dropped their shit, along with the security guards and other staff members, they dropped their shit and went to him. When my great great grandfather died of fucking cancer the principal told me that I don't have to go to class and she will tell my teachers to give me a B or an A on my assignments and my Finals. Bitches, they fucking care, you guys don't! This school sucks fucking ass and I hope everyone who supports it burns in fucking Hell. They're all homophobic, racist,, inconsiderate, sexist assholes who need to go burn in Hell. Why I say that is because I haven't dealt with the death of my great great grandfather, who I was extremely close to and I fall into a horrible depression. I did and they told me that I need to suck it up and that it's my fault he got fucking brain, cell and bone cancer, on top of other cancers from when he died. I about murdered a cunt and at the beginning of the fucking year, my first damn day of school since seven years ago (last school year) the fucking sexist principal knows about my medical problems. I have lung issues, on top of asthma and heart issues, along with a weak ass immune system. I only have about ten percent lung capacity, so five in each lung and I have bad time breathing as it is. I get easily winded because of it and when I sleep, my body has to work four times as hard as the normal human being. Well I also have anxiety and other mental illnesses, the first day of fucking school they do a bullshit rally welcoming everyone back. Me, wearing pure black, not giving a shit and sure as fucking shit not wanting to be anywhere near SEM or any of these stuck up pricks, sticks up and isn't wanted already. Well I'm in the back, earbud in, blaring fucking Slipknot or some band that's considered 'Satanic' in their eyes, having bad anxiety and they announce that we are gonna play a game. Yay! Fucking not! It's where you blow up a balloon and do a relay, blow down all these cups, pick them up, run around in circles and run to the back of the line. He calls out my name and I try to tell him and other asshole staff members I can't, they told me I can and that I'm just an attention seeking whore. Being the bitch that I am, I did the game bullshit and had a fucking panic attack, because I couldn't breath. They got mad at me, because I not only was sobbing, trying not to hyperventilate, but I also had assholes telling me I could do it and to suck it up. I couldn't blow up the fucking balloon and it had to be huge, they got mad at me because I couldn't fucking do it and I had a panic attack. So basically Small Schools Fucking Suck and I hate everyone at SEM. 🖕🏻Also, this post wasn't meant to offend anyone or anything, it was just a rant because people have shitty experiences with school and bullying and teachers. It was also to express what I'm feeling since I don't want to go back and have another fucking year like last year because I'm the only one who likes metal, the color black and because the teachers and students all harass me. As I told the principal who told me I should join one of their few clubs and shit, why on God's green earth would I support a school that I hate with a burning passion? The only thing I'm 'doing for this school' is getting good grades and graduating, so I have to see none of your asses again till I'm a fucking famous writer and all of you, can kiss my fucking ass. I didn't use the language to him that I did in it, because kids were around and I respect children. So yeah, rant over. #Skeletonsandrosescrisisline #Skeletonsandroses #Rant #Elle #SEMcomeaftermyassIdareyou