#Mail Call From the Website

[whippetcrimes]

Am I crazy or was there a way to look up a dog on AKC's website by their registered name? I feel like I used to just search it, click the link, and go

[birdmenmanga]

crazy the way I can wake up at 8:30 and STILL get nothing done

[violsva]

All Canadians:

(or at least all Canadian citizens, which isn’t quite the same thing)

There is an election Monday, April 28th. That’s tomorrow. You need to vote.

If you received a voter card, it will have your poll location on it. If you didn't, you can find the location HERE (français). Elections Canada does not call voters - if someone called or texted you to say the time or location has changed, that’s fraud. Check the website for accurate information.

In order to vote you need EITHER a driver’s license or provincial ID card, OR two pieces of ID, one of which has your current address. A letter from your University or residence counts. (Proof of address is more important than proof of citizenship.) The full list of ID accepted is HERE (français).

If you didn’t receive a voter information card, you may not be registered to vote. But that’s okay!

YOU DO NOT NEED TO REGISTER IN ADVANCE TO VOTE IN CANADA.

You can register at the poll station on Election Day. It’s not hard and it doesn’t take very long, and you don’t need extra ID.

Voting is quick and usually simple. Polling hours depend on your province (français), but all polls will be open until at least 7:00 pm, usually later. (Note that in the Eastern Time Zone polls open late, at 9:30 am.) Your employer is required to give you time off to vote (français) if you need it.

Information for voters with disabilities is HERE (français). If you have feedback on accessibility or other issues, there will be forms you can fill out at your polling station.

If you got a mail-in ballot and you have not sent it yet, you can drop it off in person at your local Elections Canada office (français) or the address on the envelope, anytime before the polls close.

Here’s the acceptable ID list again (français).

EVERYONE GO VOTE.

[thoughtportal]

Opinion Here’s how to get free Paxlovid as many times as you need it

When the public health emergency around covid-19 ended, vaccines and treatments became commercial products, meaning companies could charge for them as they do other pharmaceuticals. Paxlovid, the highly effective antiviral pill that can prevent covid from becoming severe, now has a list price of nearly $1,400 for a five-day treatment course.

Thanks to an innovative agreement between the Biden administration and the drug’s manufacturer, Pfizer, Americans can still access the medication free or at very low cost through a program called Paxcess. The problem is that too few people — including pharmacists — are aware of it.

I learned of Paxcess only after readers wrote that pharmacies were charging them hundreds of dollars — or even the full list price — to fill their Paxlovid prescription. This shouldn’t be happening. A representative from Pfizer, which runs the program, explained to me that patients on Medicare and Medicaid or who are uninsured should get free Paxlovid. They need to sign up by going to paxlovid.iassist.com or by calling 877-219-7225. “We wanted to make enrollment as easy and as quick as possible,” the representative said.

Indeed, the process is straightforward. I clicked through the web form myself, and there are only three sets of information required. Patients first enter their name, date of birth and address. They then input their prescriber’s name and address and select their insurance type.

All this should take less than five minutes and can be done at home or at the pharmacy. A physician or pharmacist can fill it out on behalf of the patient, too. Importantly, this form does not ask for medical history, proof of a positive coronavirus test, income verification, citizenship status or other potentially sensitive and time-consuming information.

But there is one key requirement people need to be aware of: Patients must have a prescription for Paxlovid to start the enrollment process. It is not possible to pre-enroll. (Though, in a sense, people on Medicare or Medicaid are already pre-enrolled.)

Once the questionnaire is complete, the website generates a voucher within seconds. People can print it or email it themselves, and then they can exchange it for a free course of Paxlovid at most pharmacies.

Pfizer’s representative tells me that more than 57,000 pharmacies are contracted to participate in this program, including major chain drugstores such as CVS and Walgreens and large retail chains such as Walmart, Kroger and Costco. For those unable to go in person, a mail-order option is available, too.

The program works a little differently for patients with commercial insurance. Some insurance plans already cover Paxlovid without a co-pay. Anyone who is told there will be a charge should sign up for Paxcess, which would further bring down their co-pay and might even cover the entire cost.

Several readers have attested that Paxcess’s process was fast and seamless. I was also glad to learn that there is basically no limit to the number of times someone could use it. A person who contracts the coronavirus three times in a year could access Paxlovid free or at low cost each time.

Unfortunately, readers informed me of one major glitch: Though the Paxcess voucher is honored when presented, some pharmacies are not offering the program proactively. As a result, many patients are still being charged high co-pays even if they could have gotten the medication at no cost.

This is incredibly frustrating. However, after interviewing multiple people involved in the process, including representatives of major pharmacy chains and Biden administration officials, I believe everyone is sincere in trying to make things right. As we saw in the early days of the coronavirus vaccine rollout, it’s hard to get a new program off the ground. Policies that look good on paper run into multiple barriers during implementation.

Those involved are actively identifying and addressing these problems. For instance, a Walgreens representative explained to me that in addition to educating pharmacists and pharmacy techs about the program, the company learned it also had to make system changes to account for a different workflow. Normally, when pharmacists process a prescription, they inform patients of the co-pay and dispense the medication. But with Paxlovid, the system needs to stop them if there is a co-pay, so they can prompt patients to sign up for Paxcess.

Here is where patients and consumers must take a proactive role. That might not feel fair; after all, if someone is ill, people expect that the system will work to help them. But that’s not our reality. While pharmacies work to fix their system glitches, patients need to be their own best advocates. That means signing up for Paxcess as soon as they receive a Paxlovid prescription and helping spread the word so that others can get the antiviral at little or no cost, too.

{source}

[madlori]

On being an older fangirl

I was probably 10 years old when I first conceived of what was, looking back, fanfiction. Me and my best friend would lie in bed together on sleepovers and I'd make up stories about what happened after the end of our favorite book, "The Westing Game." She'd ask me for more stories, and I'd tell her more, inventing them as I went along. "Then what?" she'd say.

I was 14 when I went to my first convention. I had discovered Star Trek: The Next Generation. It was 1987, and my youth pastor was a huge Trekkie. He took me to a one-day crappy Creation con, but it was amazing to me. I met Nichelle Nichols. My dad showed me the Trek movies. He and I watched TNG together.

When I went to college in 1991, my dad used to videotape TNG episodes onto VHS tapes and mail them to me, so I could keep watching (I didn't have TV in my dorm room).

By the time I was a senior, we had Trek watching parties in the dorm lounge, where the TV had cable. Star Trek: Voyager had started up, and I wrote a column about it for the college newspaper. I joined a mailing list about it, with people in it that I still know today.

I got my first computer that could go online in 1995. I was on newsgroups. I discovered Doctor Who. I went to Trek conventions where we still passed around fanzines containing fic and art and smutty K/S fan creations.

Then it was Harry Potter. Then there were websites. Then there was Geocities, where we could all make our own little spots. We organized them into webrings. We talked on newsgroups and mailing lists. There were fanfic archives. Then there was fanfiction.net.

Then...there was LiveJournal. And we could interact in entirely new ways. We could form communities, and debate things, and fight over canon, and get into ship wars. On LiveJournal, I met my best friend of 22 years. I was in her wedding. She's my sister of the heart (which is what she calls me).

Then there was Tumblr. And Twitter. And now there's Discord. But it's all the same.

I am the same.

I am still that little girl who made up fanfiction in her head to entertain her best friend. I am still the one who was amazed to find communities on the internet - which was so new, so raw, so uncommodified - where others like me could meet. I found there people to meet in real life.

I am still that twentysomething going to her first major convention, being told that someone loved my fic, being asked about my writing process.

I am still that thirtysomething watching something I wrote blow up. Seeing friends from other fandoms find me in new ones, finding them there, too. Forgetting which fandom I know someone from, because I've known them for twenty years.

I still know some of the people who created those early websites, those mailing lists, those archives. I still meet people in new fandoms who say "Oh, I read your fic in [fandom] fifteen years ago!" There's no feeling quite like having someone remember something you wrote for that long. Or meeting someone whose fic meant a lot to YOU, or who you talked with on rec.arts.drwho.creative in 1997.

Aging in fandom is a gift. Being middle-aged in fandom is a joy. Having people who still read what I write and ask "Then what?" is a blessing.

It breaks my heart that so many people see it as something to be ashamed of, when it is one of my life's greatest gifts.

[bunny-jpeg]

honey, i'm home!!, convict!simon r.- you were a bleeding heart, a softie. maybe that was why you took a photo of the flyer taped against the glass wall of a bus stop. it was advertising a service for people on the outside to communicate with convicts in prison. those who didn't have family on the outside. it broke your heart as you thought about it on your commute to work.

these poor people, all alone with anyone to keep them tethered to outside. it must be so isolating, so cold. you knew the risks and when you put in your information on the website, you didn't pay too much mind to the possibilities. you were surprised when you got an email back saying that they had found you a inmate to be a pen pal with.

simon riley - five year sentence for assaulting a police officer. he had no living family and was allowed to join the program due to good behavior during his time in prison. the mugshot of him made your eyes go wide. blond, a smattering of moles and freckles, alluring brown eyes (even in the horrid mugshot light), a crooked nose from multiple breakages and scars on his face.

if your jaw dropped at the sight of his photo imagine the surprise on his face when they gave him all your information. no photo though. but enough about you to pull the convict in. oh, you were beautiful. at least on paper you were.

ideal wife-y material. that made simon chub up in his jumpsuit. he didn't care what you looked like, by the first letter he was already calling you his wife to the likes of johnny. calling you missus riley by the time he had been exchanging letters with you for a month. he learned so much about you, and you became more endearing. you told him your favourite movies, that some flowers made you allergies act up, your love of animals. you even told him about the stuffed animal you 'rescued' from a puddle, washed it up and named it tulip who now sits on your desk at home. it was sweet, you were sweet.

simon near killed a man in a botched robbery and you were talking to him like it was a first date. mind you, over letters but simon loved them. you were advised not to send anything in the mail, your address was obscured with the service's address so simon couldn't find you once he got out. but, with the right words and promises, he had your full name, the location of your job and the address of your home. you were even sweet enough let him put it as his main address once he left prison. already the sweetest thing since honey.

but simon was a greedy man, asked for a few photos of you. while you were shy, he said to you, "wanna know what my girl looks like. wanna know how she looks so when i come home, i'm able to recognize her in any crowd." and you sent a few photos, and to simon's surprise. a suggestive one.

he could see a peek of your breasts and he realized he wanted to get his paws all over them. he wanted to leave pretty bruises on that tender flesh. mark what was his, that was what he learned in prison. in order to keep something he had to keep a tight grip on it. not even johnny saw the photos, you were for his eyes only.

you were nice enough to print them on good quality photo paper, and after that there was an increase in simon's good behavior. he had to get out as soon as possible to sink his achy cock in his missus. and when the day finally came and you came to pick him up. he already felt tight in his jeans.

and not that you were so innocent either, you had your hand on his thigh while you drove home. months of dirty talk over letters, the time simon basically wrote poetry about how he wanted to taste between your legs was still a favourite to read while you were all alone in your apartment. your hand between your legs, imagining a man like simon pleasing you in a way that made orgasm come quick.

your self pleasure was nothing compared to the feeling of simon against your skin. you barely got his scarce belongings into your flat before he was pressed up against your behind. his large, rough hand on your hip, which made your stomach leap. your core got warmer.

he then said to you, "aw, doll. that's not a way to greet your husband. been away for too long, need to feel her." and then dropped his duffel bag in favour of having you pressed up against the door of your flat with your shorts soon around your ankles.

"simon! ah!" you said as he held you by the shoulders against the door while he got his belt off and his cock out. five years without a hole to call home, but he got out of the pit with a little (future) wife to happily make up for loss time.

when he sank into you, it was a religious experience, "oh honey, i'm home." before he got both hands on your hips and his hips hit up against your ass. there was little time to get familiar, it was a deep seated want. simon rutted against you like a feral dog and the pleasure made you mind race and your knees wobble.

you two couldn't even get to the bedroom, not that simon cared. he'd happily have you over the hood of his car. you knew he didn't have any satisfactions from the outside. you were being good and being his connection to the outside world. it was only fair that he thanked you with all the orgasms he could wring out of you. he'd make sure that the third round was in your soft bed. but his thrusts were heavy and desperate and the uneven pace made your brain become flooded with pleasure.

you tried to find some kind of leverage against the door, but you were simply stuck against him. you were fucked against the wood door with your hips in your convict lover's hands. he may have smudged a little bit of the details of his crimes, but it was alright. you were such a forgiving soul that you let him into your life, into your home, into your womb. he couldn't remember if you still took the pill, but it was too late for that. not while your slick cunt drooled all over his balls.

why complain about a slice of heaven when it was dropped into his lap. he eventually wrapped both arms around your middle and fucked into you feverishly. he felt the excitement in his body as he moved against you. you felt amazing, there was a certain beauty to you as you took his cock was cemented that you were his. you'll have a ring on your finger and a fat belly by christmas. the thought made him twitch.

been too long since he had a homecooked meal, and while having your cunt grasp his cock. he knew that he'd be spoiled with his wife's cooking. if it was as warm as you pussy, maybe it'll reform him more than prison ever did.

after so many years without a touch of a woman, it felt nice. it felt great to work his cock into you. have you squished up against the door as he worked himself into you. breaking in his home, breaking in his wife. what more could he want. even gave that stomach of yours a sweet little pat.

be a good girl and give him a chunky riley baby by new year.

when you climaxed, you basically were limp in his arms and he pressed you further against the door for leverage. he purred to you, "that's it, that's is, doll. you're doing so good, fuck. been wantin' this for ages. good girl, good cunt. all for me. not gettin' into trouble while i was in, right? keepin' yourself for me."

you nodded, cheek pressed against the door as he continued to fuck you. your head felt dizzy. you didn't bother dating after you started your correspondence with simon. no point, he kept your happy. simon knew that loyalty was rewarded, so he did so by shoving every inch of his length inside of you an finishing straight into the back of your womb.

he groaned and gave you a few more thrusts before he pulled out. he patted you on the behind and kissed the back of your neck, "happy to be home, doll. our home. now why don't you show me around." and chuckled when you could barely string together a sentence. he pulled you up against his chest and near leaned over you to kiss you on the cheek, "look alive, sunshine. gotta show your husband his new home. except i think it might be too small. especially when the twins come." and it went in one ear and out the other, you dumbly nodded and simon did the right thing and fucked you over the coffee table until you came a second and third time. it's alright, he'll get a tour of his home by fucking you over every available surface. <3

a/n: happy near year, my dear bunnies <3

[ms-demeanor]

I don't know how to say it so that people will listen, but if you work at a business you should just accept that *unless your literal job is being the only one who handles wire transfers and you are professionally engaged ONLY in verifying that money is being transferred correctly* any request to wire someone money is a scam.

Our client is working with a company called (anonymized for internet example purposes) "Anaheim Sales" and have been communicating with them at their email, which is, deeply unfortunately, anaheimsales@aim.com

Client has been told by Anaheim Sales to send a check in the mail. They put the check in the mail, then get an email from anahiemsales@aol.com requesting a wire transfer instead. They cancel the check and they wire the money.

Now. A huge part of this is Anaheim Sales' fault. Buy a domain, dipshits. Your business email shouldn't be going to a gmail aim yahoo outlook whatever ass address, it should be going to YOURNAME@YOURDOMAIN.COM because it's a lot harder to scam your clients when you have to purchase YOURDOMIAN.COM than it is to scam them by setting up YOURNAAME@aol.com.

But also. They never should have wired the money. Even if it HAD been from bobsmith@anaheimsales.com, Bob's email could have been compromised. Even if it's in an industry where wiring money isn't something that happens only once in a blue moon.

If you are working at a business and you get a request for a wire transfer, you NEED to make sure that you speak to someone from the requesting business who you either know personally or who you reached by calling a known number for that business (KNOWN NUMBER from your vendor/client records; not from an email signature, and not from their website). If I were allowed to make all the rules, you wouldn't be allowed to make a wire transfer without a notarized request from the accounts payable department of the vendor.

This will slow down the transfer. It will make things take longer. But nobody doing legitimate business with you is going to be pissed if you take a couple extra hours to verify that they are actually making that request before you send them tens of thousands of dollars. If someone is yelling at you that you need to send the money NOW, that is actually when you need to stop and back away and escalate to your boss or get someone else from the requesting company on the phone.

"They said the contact I knew was out sick" cool don't send the money, if your known contact is not available you require a notarized request from one of the company's officers.

"They said they'd cancel the contract if we didn't get it out by this afternoon" then let them cancel you can re-sign a contract, even with a penalty, but you can't get that money back.

"They said that THEIR business was tied up and they couldn't do anything because they didn't have the payment and the check would take days to clear" sounds like a them problem; unless you get a signed, notarized request for a wire transfer you will not be sending a wire transfer.

And if you are a business owner you need to give your employees unlimited permission to say "yeah this sounds like bullshit I need to verify before I move forward" to anything that is even slightly suspicious. Your employees should NEVER be worried that they'll get fired if they say no to wiring money. You should give them a fucking bonus if they cause a delay in getting a *legitimate* wire payment transferred because they needed to get confirmation.

Wire transfers need to be a last resort, and you need to have policies in place that make them extremely cumbersome to use. The fact that wire transfers are immediate, efficient, convenient, and irreversible is WHY they're such a common way to scam people.

Also ffs please please please just set up a real website for your business there are cheap and easy ways to do it that will mean your clients are less easily targeted by scammers because they know that your email address isn't at *AOL INSTANT MESSENGER DOT COM*

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or how reader made a friend in the most unconventional way.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another,, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ NOW A SERIES! i hope you guys like this! i'm considering making this into a series; if i do, i think i'd do it the same way this fic is, aka some narration but mostly 'chatting' between rafe and reader. anyway, let me know if you want it to continue!! i've been feeling down for a few weeks now, so something simple and fun like this was a good way to get back into the flow of writing.

i thought about making this a smau, but doing the chats like this feels more authentic to the 2000s chatroom experience y’know

you were sitting on your bed, your laptop open on a website called KildareUChats, a website that was apparently meant for the students of your university to be able to anonymously chat with other students, your friend having told you to give it a try, knowing that it’d be difficult for you to do in person.

you didn't really see the point of it; although your social circle was in no way huge, you were happy enough with it, really. never having been great with new people, you'd made three friends on your freshman year of college and simply stuck to them. it didn't help that whenever you tried to talk to someone new, it felt like someone was choking you.

but this was online. the person on the other side would never know who you are, and you'd never have to actually be face-to-face with them. your cursor moved to hover over the 'REGISTER' button, and you filled the page out with your basic information, name, school email, birth date... but when the website asked for a username, you couldn't help but purse your lips as you looked around your dorm room, from the fairy lights you'd hung up on walls that now glowed in a yellowish hue, to the several books stacked on the floor, to the dead roses on your desk...

but when your eyes landed on your nightstand, you spotted a book of poems by edgar allan poe, and your lips quirked up into a small smile. after you typed the name 'AnnabelLee' into the username field, a green check mark appeared next to it to signify it was available.

after setting a password, you were redirected to a page that said 'WELCOME TO KILDAREUCHATS AnnabelLee! CLICK HERE IF YOU WISH TO CONNECT WITH A RANDOM STRANGER!'. you clicked the button, your cursor turning into a circle for a moment as it loaded, before you were redirected to a chatroom with a pop-up.

KILDAREUCHATS IS CONNECTING YOU TO A STRANGER...

KILDAREUCHATS HAS CONNECTED YOU! REMEMBER TO TREAT OTHERS THE WAY YOU WANT TO BE TREATED <3 SAY HI!

you stared at your computer screen, biting into your lower lip. you had no idea what you were supposed to say; outside of the people you already knew, you were helpless when talking to people, the words always getting stuck in your throat, or vanishing from your mind. angel's white fur blended in with your white sheets as your hand moved to absentmindedly stroke her, the little cat purring in her sleep. but before your hand could dart out to type something on your laptop, a message appeared on the screen.

STRANGER: heyy

taking in a deep breath, you shook your head, as if shaking all doubts and worries out of it. the site was anonymous; that was the whole point. and your therapist told you, that for your social anxiety to get better, you should try go socialize. mingle. you took the bottle of cheap white wine you'd snuck into your dorm, taking a large swig straight out of the bottle before setting it back down, your hands flying to your keyboard.

YOU: hi :)

STRANGER: wsp?

YOU: ...wasp?

STRANGER: lmao no... what's up?

YOU: sorry, i'm not good with that kind of lingo haha. YOU: nothing much. i'm hanging out with my cat.

STRANGER: damn, do you have an off-campus apartment or something?

YOU: nope :) YOU: don't tell my ra.

STRANGER: shit you have a CAT in your dorm?

YOU: if you tell on me, i'm gonna have to hunt you down and kill you.

STRANGER: lucky for you this is anonymous STRANGER: and i'm not a snitch lmao STRANGER: so, what are you doing on this thing at 12am on a friday night? no hot parties?

YOU: honestly, i think i'd rather put a noose around my neck than go to a party. YOU: i'm just in my room drinking wine. decided to try this site after my friend suggested it. YOU: what about you?

STRANGER: damn, kinky STRANGER: i do have a 'hot party' to go to but i also have an essay due in nine hours and the prof already hates my ass

YOU: so you decided to not write your essay and instead procrastinate by chatting with some random stranger?

STRANGER: exactly! you get it STRANGER: if i even have my laptop in front of me, i'm counting that as me writing my essay

YOU: what's it about?

STRANGER: what kind of a role religion has when it comes to politics and shit

YOU: and let me guess, that's not a topic you enjoy studying in your free time?

STRANGER: you know me so well already

YOU: if it helps, i'm also studying. or, procrastinating studying. YOU: i have a chemistry exam on monday :(

STRANGER: ...and you're studying for it on a friday already? STRANGER: i just read for exams a few minutes before they start STRANGER: compared to me you're like a genius

YOU: eyeroll. YOU: and that's why you have trouble writing an essay! YOU: you're probably missing out on a keg stand at your 'hot party'.

STRANGER: i can't believe you're making fun of the art of the stand

YOU: you'll live.

STRANGER: how do you know? maybe i'm the god of the kegstand and every time a human loses faith in me, i grow weaker

YOU: are you? YOU: oh sacred frat god? YOU: shall i make an offering for you at your altar? would that appease your distaste towards me?

STRANGER: you shall

YOU: okay, how about these for an offering: YOU: a white claw, a buzz ball, a red solo cup with a strange mixture of different kinds of alcohols, and a vape pen?

STRANGER: those appease me much, mere mortal STRANGER: also mango-flavored juul pods

YOU: you're so weird.

STRANGER: says the person who's hanging with her cat on a friday night

YOU: how do you figure i'm a her?

STRANGER: oh please STRANGER: no man would disrespect the fine art of the keg stand

YOU: got me there, frat boy.

STRANGER: that's very presumptuous STRANGER: i could just be a tomboy

YOU: please. YOU: if you're a girl then i'm sasquatch.

STRANGER: don't worry, i don't mind a little body hair

YOU: i hate you.

glancing at the clock on your wall, you'd realized that thirty minutes had already gone by. you let out a small sigh, rubbing your eyes.

YOU: i should get going. i can't keep procrastinating.

STRANGER: already?

YOU: what, are you gonna miss me or something?

STRANGER: hey, if i get a pic of bigfoot i'm gonna be making millions, i just have capitalistic tendencies

YOU: fair point.

STRANGER: you should add me as a friend

YOU: you can do that??? i thought this was an anonymous chat.

STRANGER: yeah you can lmao why else would you need to set a username STRANGER: i'll just do it

and soon enough, a pop-up appeared on your screen, with the text 'STRANGER HAS REQUESTED TO ADD YOU AS FRIEND.' along with the buttons 'ACCEPT' and 'DENY'.

you pursed your lips, your finger lingering over the touchpad, first dragging it over the button reading 'DENY', before you let out a sigh, taking a large swig from the bottle of wine, moving the cursor to 'ACCEPT' and pressing it before you could regret it.

the pop-up was now replaced with another one, reading 'CONGRATS AnnabelLee YOU ARE NOW FRIENDS WITH MalachiConstant' and when you read the stranger's name, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. you clicked the red 'x' that closed the pop-up, and the word STRANGER in your chat logs was now replaced by MalachiConstant.

YOU: really? vonnegut?

MalachiConstant: what? i don't seem like the type to read?

YOU: just surprising!

MalachiConstant: says the girl with the hard-on for poe MalachiConstant: which isn't surprising at all

YOU: har har. YOU: goodnight, weird vonnegut frat boy.

MalachiConstant: goodnight, weird poe girl

YOU HAVE LOGGED OUT OF KILDAREUCHATS.

[whippetcrimes]

Am I crazy or was there a way to look up a dog on AKC's website by their registered name? I feel like I used to just search it, click the link, and go

[unknownmads]

CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

[lay-z]

Simon Riley, who works as a hitman/mercenary for hire whenever he's forced to go on leave by Captain Price.

It started as a joke—a throwaway comment that Kyle made before Johnny chipped in to push and dramatise the topic. By the end of the conversation, Simon was already trying to figure out how to sign up on one of those shady websites to offer his services.

He doesn't care about the dangers lurking on the dark web. In fact, he is one if not the danger on the whole dark and deep web.

And he's almost forgotten about it all until he gets a rather encrypted message from the odd website he’d signed up on to the mail address he'd created for that purpose alone.

That's how he gets in contact with you, his first customer—asking so desperately for help to put the frighteners on someone. No killing this time, just some good old intimidation. Bummer.

Soft and sweet and oh so very naïve. Did no one ever teach you about stranger danger? About not sharing any personal details with some bloody bloke who calls himself hitman on the deep web?

With each exchanged message, it becomes clearer to Simon that you’re in bitter need of guidance, structure and protection. So, he does agree to take care of your problem. It’s what he literally signed up for to kill (heh) his boredom and make himself feel useful.

A pesty ex-boyfriend, or colleague, or boss. Truth is, Simon has stopped paying too much attention once he got you on the phone—because you’d agreed on a phone call all too eagerly to get everything settled fast.

But fuck it, if your voice isn’t saccharine. Soothing to him like warm honey and milk as he palms his throbbing bulge through his sweats with one hand while snaking the other under his hoodie to tug on a nipple as he lays sprawled on his tattered couch one evening, cracked phone screen pressed to his ear as he merely grunts in understanding every few minutes while you basically bare your soul to him.

When Simon hears how you choke back tears over the line, he tugs his sweats down to free his flushed, weeping cock with a strained groan and he spits into his palm right as you hiccup softly into his ear, causing a pleasant shudder to run along his spine and another pearly bead of precum to dribble down his thick shaft.

A bad, bad man he is, taking advantage of you like this, but he can’t help himself. Oh, how he is going to take care of your little problem, alright.

Twee, twee kitten, you—have you been waiting for him all this time, hm? Tsk, he’s going to have to teach you a lesson once he’s done over that bloke for you. Make you understand that you cannot trust anyone else but him to take care of you proper.

Once you’ve hung up and while he’s wiping this massive load off his pudgy stomach, he’s already fantasising about planting the next one deep into your gorgeous cunt—since you haven’t talked about his preferred payment method yet anyway.

[furiouszealot]

UPDATE: As of 25/04/2025, 4chan is back up and running again. This post and its addendum will be kept as is, and will no longer be updated unless it goes back down again. If you were on /ghost/, it was a pleasure shitposting with you.

All right, I know no one gives a shit, but let me give you a recounting of the fall of 4chan from the perspective of someone who was there and has been lurking both 4chan and tumblr for a few years now.

I'll try to provide as much context as I can, but a lot of images were either lost or im too lazy to look for them in the +5000 reply thread in soyjak party.

Anyways, info below:

So, necessary context: a few years back, 4chan had a board called /qa/, which if you know little about the page, you may think every board is like /b/ or /pol/, which means a containment cess pool of grifters, (you) baiters, incels, and other deranged individuals. The thing is, /qa/ was somehow worse. The entire board was plagued and infested with soyjack edits, board culture was a nuclear disaster, anons were incredibly hostile in there, you know the drill, the big bad 4chan, but this time its actually true.

One day, moderation deleted /qa/, anons that posted there got mad, tried to raid other boards, failed, and then moved on to an altchan called soyjack party, which entire purpose you can guess from its name alone.

Apparently, the boards that allow pdf uploads (paper and origami, for example) didn't check if the uploaded file was actually a pdf file, so postscript files could be used to get access. This is as far as my understanding of web backend goes, sorry.

The hacker claims to have been working on this since 2021, and that he had access since about a year ago, but was recopilating data.

Now, what actually happened when the hack ocurred? Well, a banner of miku dancing with a song that played automatically was placed on top of every board, with the text "/QA/ IS BACK", this was possible because apparently no board was ever deleted, they were just hidden from the public.

A thread was then made on soyjack party, claiming authorship over the hack, and shit went south from there. Anons went en masse to talk there, a lot of weird discussion happened, the thread got the bump limit removed and got pinned, more than 5k posts were amassed on the first night alone. Keep in mind this happened at about 8 pm and most of the stuff went on through midnight.

So, the hacker leaked some things, first of all, the html files for the entirety of /j/ and the email address for every moderation member (important note: the pressence of .gov mails was disproven by the hacker themselves, so i guess there were never any feds), what is /j/? the board exclusive for jannies and moderators to discuss actions taken on the website regarding spam, ban evaders, threads spiraling out of control, etc. Among other things, some of the inner workings of 4chan got revealed, such as the web extension for jannies that allows them to do their job easily, how reports are handled, and other stuff. (Anecdotically, some guy got permabanned for calling anons jews or n-words over a 100 times in the same few threads)

Then, the source code got leaked. Important to say, the hacker removed the part of the source code related to the captcha, as to not facilitate bot attacks on the future, and all information related to email verification or 4chan pass users information also got removed, so all in all users are safe.

What was found on the sourcecode? That it was old, mostly. Most boards used code that hasn't been updated since about 2016, and /flash/ used the exact same code from when it was created back on 2011.

From there, desuarchive, a site that archives threads that die from bump limit, opened a dragon ball general on ghost mode, and thus began what later got called /ghost/, a solely text based thread with well over 20k replies as of right now, where a fraction of the 4chan population took refuge and is currently discussing random things with no particular topic. Kinda hard to read, but its comfy.

What does this mean for other sites? Not a lot, really. A lot of anons already crossposted in 4chan and tumblr already, and the ones that din't most likely wont come here. Some of the bigger/most dedicated groups, like /vt/, migrated to other boards. Various altchans are trying/tried to catch some of the flock of users that got lost, but i doubt it will get anywhere, since soyjak party for example was struggling with just the influx of users that came for the hack thread given its poor infrastructure. Kiwifarms saw a surge of new accounts apparently, but a lot of anons kinda loathe the idea of having to register, so theres that.

Smaller communities, such as generals that didn't get a lot of traffic, or boards on the slower end (say, /ic/, /lit/, etc) will probably vanish or disseminate until (or if) 4chan comes back up. I'd say give it a month, don't get your hopes up whether you want it to stay dead or want it to come back.

Given how many anons are staying on places like /ghost/ or other similar archives with the same ghost posting feature, i doubt it will be as bad as people are making it sound. Besides, the communities that are most likely to migrate to places like tumblr are either /co/, /vg/ or /lgbt/ refugees, which aren't THAT bad. Not every board was like the main cesspools (/b/, /r9k/, /pol/).

From now on, either 4chan comes back up in a few weeks (somewhere between 2 weeks to a month is expected), altchans capture the migrating anons, or a brand new imageboard rises from the ashes to become the new go-to site for old 4chan posters.

In conclusion, nothing ever happens, but also don't worry, chances are this won't affect tumblr in the slightest. If it does, you can cash in your "you were wrong" ticket whenever you want, i'll take the L.

As a footnote, keep in mind: NO users were compromised, if you ever posted there and are worried for your safety, physical or digital, you are safe.

Edit: Forgot to add, if you are a 4chan refugee, im BEGGING you to dm me and tell what board you were from and where are you migrating, if at all.

[jabberwockypie]

So @lynati is out of town today and tomorrow, working, but she has been living her best life and embracing her desire to be surrounded by toy Breyer horses for the first time in 25 years, and is really just having a great time with it.

Unfortunately, a particular horsie, Hot Cocoa, who she had REALLY wanted sold out last week before she had a chance to get her. She thought she had more time, because some of the previous years' horsies are still in stock from past years.

Horf!

So Hot Cocoa was sold out, and she was very sad, and there were ZERO OF THEM anywhere else on the internet - this one was sold only through the Breyer website, and nobody had listed any on Ebay or Mercari. We set up some saved searches to try to get her later if she came up, probably at a terrible mark-up, but what else can you do?

Anyway, Lynati got a different, extra-fancy horse in the mail yesterday, and he's a very pretty boy with blues and golds and purples.

Lynati didn't have any others in this mold, but she brought him upstairs to show me yesterday when she got him in the mail, and I agreed as this was a very pretty horse and flipped him over because I was admiring how pretty the blue-fading-to-purple effect is, and I go "WOW. My god, they put a lot of effort into sculpting this horse's junk."

The fact this sculptor clearly spent hours and hours on this horse model, including what had to be rather a lot of time on the individual veining on the Horse Dick* is truly kind of impressive, but I also find it extremely funny in contrast with how pearl-clutchy some American Girl doll collectors get about even the implication that people may have had sex or might be naked at some point, ever. (There are a whole bunch of people get weird about the fact dolls like Kaya and Felicity don't come with underpants - because they wouldn't have worn them. In the 18th century. And, let me be clear, their bodies are just tube-shaped stuffed cloth with no anatomical detail whatsoever.)

*Lynati will I'm sure correct me that that is the "sheath" and testicles, but I am not a horse person and I am therefore comfortable referring to it as the horse's dick.

So today, I was relating to my friend @lylilorden my amusement at the contrast between American Girl doll people and the Breyer people with their lovingly-sculpted super-detailed Horse Genitals.

(Quoth Lyli, "and the breyer folks just. "these are ANIMALS and they FUCK"". Yes. Yes they are.)

And I'm looking for a picture of the Special Fancy Horse to show her, and then suddenly, at the bottom of the page on the Breyer website, where I see this:

HOT COCOA IN STOCK, MOTHERFUCKERS

So I call Lynati in a tizzy because this is clearly a Horf-Collecting Emergency, and the horf is now on the way to our house. The day is saved! And I wouldn't have been on the Breyer website if I hadn't been talking to Lyli about the other horse's magnificent . . . endowments.

✨ It's a Christmas miracle! By the power of lovingly-sculpted horse cock. ✨

And now, at the bottom of this post - so people can read the rest of the post and skip it if you want - I have gone downstairs to take a picture of Courcheval's junk, so you can all see what I'm talking about here. (Content warning: plastic toy horse genitalia)

[violsva]

Ontario Votes

Hey Ontario! There’s an election on Thursday February 27th. That’s tomorrow. You need to vote.

If you received a voter information card in the mail:

Your voter card will have your voting location and poll number on it. You need to bring your voter card and one other piece of ID. There’s a list of ID you can use HERE (français).

(You don't need photo ID, and you don't need to provide any information about your gender.)

If you did not receive a voter information card, or you’ve lost it, or you forget to bring it to the polling place:

You can absolutely still vote. You can find your voting location HERE (français).

You will need to bring a piece of ID that has both your name and your address on it. Proof of address is important because the staff need to know you’re voting in the right district. There’s a list of ID you can use HERE (français).

The polls are open from 9AM to 9PM. Voting is quick and usually simple. What time they’re busy depends on what your neighbourhood is like.

Information for voters with disabilities is HERE (français). If you have feedback on accessibility, there will be forms you can fill out at your polling station.

Elections Ontario does not call voters - if someone called or texted you to say the time or location has changed, that’s fraud. Check the website for accurate information.

If you got a mail-in ballot and you have not sent it yet, drop it off in person at your local returning office (français) anytime before 6pm.

More information here. Plus d'informations ici. Other languages here.

EVERYONE GO VOTE.

[bunny-jpeg]

the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Musk steals a billion dollars from low-income Americans and sends it to Intuit

I'm about to leave for a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me on Feb 14 in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and on Feb 15 for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

Let me tell you about the most wasteful US federal government spending I know about. It's a humdinger. You and everyone you know are mired in it for weeks, or perhaps months, every year. It will cost you, personally, thousands of dollars over your lifetime. I'm talking about filing your taxes.

Not paying your taxes. Paying your taxes is fine. It keeps the country running, though not because the government needs our "tax dollars" to pay for things. The government annihilates the money it taxes away from us, and creates new money to pay for programs. The USA needs US citizens' dollars to build highways the same way Starbucks needs its Starbucks gift cards to make lattes – that is, not at all:

https://theglobepost.com/2019/03/28/stephanie-kelton-mmt/

I'm talking about filing your taxes. In nearly every case, a tax return contains a bunch of things the IRS already knows: how much interest your bank paid you, how much your employer paid you, how many kids you have, etc etc. Nearly everyone who pays a tax-prep place or website to file their tax return is just sending data to the IRS that the IRS already has. This is insanely wasteful.

In most other "advanced" countries (and in plenty of poorer countries, too), the tax authority fills in your tax return for you and mails it to you at tax-time. If it looks good to you, you just sign the bottom and send it back. If there are mistakes, you can correct them. You can also just drop it in the shredder and hire an accountant to do your taxes for you, if, for example, you run a small business, or are self-employed, or have other complex tax needs. A tiny minority of tax filers fall into that bucket, and they keep the tax-prep industry in other countries alive, albeit in a much smaller form than in the USA.

In the US, we have a duopoly of two gigantic tax-prep outfits: H&R Block, and Intuit, owners of Turbotax. These companies make billions from low-income, working Americans every year, charging them to format a bunch of information the IRS already has, and then sending it to the IRS on their behalf. These companies lobbied like crazy for the right to tax you when you pay your taxes.

In 2003, it looked like the IRS would start sending Americans pre-completed returns, so H&R Block and Turbotax went into lobbying overdrive, whipping up a "public private partnership" called the "Free File Alliance," that promised to do free tax prep for most Americans. But once the threat of IRS free filing was killed, they turned Free File into a sick joke. Americans who tried to use Free File were fraudulently channeled into filing products that cost money – sometimes hundreds of dollars – to use, a fact that was only revealed after the taxpayer had spent hours keying in their information. Free File sites were also used to peddle unrelated financial products to tax filers, with deceptive language that implied that buying these services was needed to file your return:

https://www.propublica.org/article/inside-turbotax-20-year-fight-to-stop-americans-from-filing-their-taxes-for-free

The big winner from the Free File scam was Intuit, which bought Turbotax in 1993. They made about one billion dollars per year ripping off Americans they'd promised to file free tax returns for. After outstanding work by Propublica, lawmakers and the IRS were finally pressured to create an IRS-based free filing service that would cut Intuit out of the loop. Intuit went on a lobbying blitz without parallel, giving out $3.5m in bribes in 2022 in a bid to kill the Treasury Department's study of a free filing service:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/20/turbotaxed/#counter-intuit

In 2022, nearly every US state attorney general settled their lawsuits against Intuit for the Turbotax ripoff, bringing in $141m:

https://www.agturbotaxsettlement.com/Home/portalid/0

In 2023, the FTC won a case against Intuit over the scam:

https://www.ftc.gov/business-guidance/blog/2023/09/nine-takeaways-initial-decision-intuit-turbotax-action

But Intut was undeterred. They came back in 2023 with a campaign to say that ripping off American tax-filers was antiracist and anyone who wanted the IRS to make filing free was, therefore, a racist:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/27/predatory-inclusion/#equal-opportunity-scammers

Strangely, no one bought that one. By May, 2023 the IRS had announced its own, in-house free file program:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/17/free-as-in-freefile/#tell-me-something-i-dont-know

Now, no one is forcing you to use this program. Do you have a family accountant that your grandparents started using in the Eisenhower administration? Just keep going to them. Do you like using Turbotax? Keep using it! Wanna do your own taxes? Here's the forms:

https://www.irs.gov/pub/irs-pdf/f1040s.pdf

But if you want to file your taxes for free, and you earn $125,000/year or less, here's the IRS's service:

https://www.irs.gov/filing/irs-direct-file-for-free

Better use it quick, though. Elon Musk has just announced that he's killing it. Yeah, I know, no one elected him. That doesn't seem to matter to anyone, least of all Democrats on the Hill, who are still showing up for work every day and trying to engender a "spirit of comity" rather than screaming and throwing eggs:

https://apnews.com/article/irs-direct-file-musk-18f-6a4dc35a92f9f29c310721af53f58b16

Musk called IRS free file a "far left" program and announced that he had "deleted it." By the way, the median Trump voter's income is about $72k, meaning more than half of Trump voters qualified for free file:

https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/the-mythology-of-trumps-working-class-support/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/11/doubling-up-on-paperwork/#rip-freefile

Image: Wcamp9 (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Elon_Musk_-_March_28,_2024_%28cropped%29.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en