#sponsible

[diamondnokouzai]

that alcoholism plotline in leverage was uh. in the show i spose.

[persianflaw]

my homework assignments for myself this weekend: 

- finish my hurt/comfort exchange signup

- write more of the “hawkeye adopts a cat” fic

- do literal actual homework (realized this when i typed out that joking first line oops lol)

[eclipsecrowned]

pov verun gets in trouble for letting the intrusive thoughts win against the schoolyard bully. he waits gleefully to see who in his new dad's polycule rolls up to make the teacher regret being born. he hopes it's mr. starry bc his voice is the most funny when he gets mad and he tells teachers they are wrong actually.

[antimnemonic]

wails

[maplehazelnut]

I've had sushi the last 2 weeks in a row and WHAT am I craving todaY??? More sushi???

Girl your family literally has seafood Christmas eves every year WHY cANt you hold out just a few more days????

[yellowgirljade]

being a grown up is so hawd! i jus wanna be sleepy an cuddly and teeny tiny

[anticute-marshmallowmars]

I'm surrounded by babies!!!!

[yeeyeeclan]

Well howdy pardner! I see you found yer way to YeeyeeClan, the most rootin' tootin' shootin' cats in all of the Eastern Plains. Why don't you take a gander 'round our humble prairie, ain't no strangers here.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We're a group of friends and a band of outlaws, documentin' the happenins 'round these parts. Keep an eye out for drawin', writin', storytellin', and all sorts of little bits of whatever. Come on in and have a cold drink while we introduce ourselves...

🎩 - If yer sick of the bad cowboy accents by now then I darn say yer in the wrong place, pardner, because they ain't goin' away no time soon. I'm Lynx, the one likely to be 'sponsible for the worst of what you gon' see here.

🐺 - Howdy! I’m Orion! I’m an Alamo enthusiast from deep n’ the heart ‘a Texas! Lover of all things rootin, tootin, and ‘specially shootin! Long time Warriors fan n’ clangen comicer”

🦋 - Howdy hey y’all! I’m Worthy, one of the rockin’ cowgirls on the team of Yeeyeeclan, nestled n’the corn fields of Ohio, and an og battle cats fan, excited to git out n’ draw for a project like this for once!

🐦‍⬛- Howdy! I'm Pic, the youngin' mail-order ranchhand from the far coast. Takes a likin' to books, paints, and bone orchards, but haven't touched a Warriors book in all my little days, so be patient on ma' gentle heart.

🌻- Howdy hey, welcome to the chaos folks! I'm Winn, and all y'all's gotta know 'bout me is I'm a SCAD Alumni from the lil ol Peach State, and the team's local autistic Warrior Cats Enthusiast. I am very incredibly normal about the books and these darn cats (blatant lie).

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

#yeeyeeclan - General YeeyeeClan shenanigans

#yeeyee ask - Anythin' asked to any of the good cats of YeeyeeClan

#yeeyeent - Anythin' not made by us good folks

#yeeyeeart - Anythin' pertainin' to drawin'

#yeeyeewriting - Anythin' pertainin' to writin'

#yeeyeerefs - Anythin' with the official yeeyee cat designs

#lynx ask - Anythin' directed towards Lynx

#orion ask - Anythin' directed towards Orion

#worthy ask - Anythin' directed towards Worthy

#pic ask - Anythin' directed towards Pic

#winn ask - Anythin' directed towards Winn

[transgenderer]

According to the expressions used by the Kwakiutl, a wife is "obtained in war" from a foreign tribe. The chiefs make war upon the princesses of the tribes. The subject of one of the favorite folk tales is the story of a man who makes war against the chiefs of foreign tribes and, by the mere threat of an attack, induces them to give him their daughters, either to be his own wife or that of one of his brothers or near relatives Boas and Hunt, 1905, 209). The fiction is also maintained in the actual marriage ceremonies, which occasionally include a sham battle between the wooing party and the relatives of the bride, or in which the groom's party is subjected to tests that show that the powers of the bride's father cannot vanquish them.

Aside from this fiction, marriage is conducted on the basis of the pot-latch. Setting aside minor details, an agreement is first reached between the parents or, after their death, by those who assume the parents' re-sponsibility. The payment to be made to the girl's parents having been agreed upon, a binder is paid by the grooms representatives. When the number of blankets setled upon has been accumulated by loans from the groom's numayma, the bride price is delivered to the house of the brides father. In addition to the stipulated price, blankets are paid to call de princess and to still others to "lift the princess from the floor of the house Then the bride is handed over to her future husband's party, and her father gives her husband blankets to represent her mat (le'we), food, and household goods, such as boxes, baskets, dishes, and spoons needed by the young couple. The value of these is often almost, if not quite, equal to the pries paid. In some cases, the bride's father gives at the same time a copper, names, and privileges to his son-in-law, but ordinarily this payment is deferred until a later time, generally after the birth of a child, when "the repayment of the marriage debt" takes place. This does not consist of blankets, but of "bad things, trifles," which include food, house. hold goods of all kinds and particularly a copper, names, and privileges which are handed over in the "privilege box." The value of the goods paid at this time is far in excess of what the bride's father has received. It is important to note that the only payment in the recognized standards of value is made by the groom. All the return payments are in objects.

The fiction that the marriage is one between two tribes or villages is maintained throughout. The groom's party is said to arrive by canoe, and when repaying the marriage debt, the father-in-law is supposed to arrive on a catamaran- two canoes tied together and covered with a platform of planks. The mast of the catamaran is the copper given to the son in law.

After the repayment of the marriage debt, the obligations of the contracting parties have been fulfilled, and the marriage is ended. If the young wife continues to stay with her husband, she stays

"for nothing," which is not dignified. A new contract has to be made in the same way as the first one, but the payments are generally much less. The whole matter seems to be a little more of a formality, although proud and rich people may make the same extravagant payments as they did in the first marriage. In the records of marriages in which many children are born, there are no references to this attitude, although the principle of the end of the marriage after the repayment of the marriage debt is clearly in the minds of the Indians. The repayment of the marriage debt may be delayed for several years and the children born during this period receive names and privileges from their maternal grandfather. Undue delay of the repayment of the marriage debt is liable to cause trouble. When a certain man seemed to evade this duty, his son-in-law had an image representing his wife carved. At a feast to which he had invited the people, he put a stone around the neck of the image and sank it in the sea. Thus he blemished the rank of his father-in-law.

Often, after the annulment of a marriage through repayment of the marriage debt, the woman is married to another man. I shall give an example of this later on. After four marriages, her high rank is established, and it seems to be assumed that after this she should stay with her last husband.

The advance in social rank arising from the potlatch features of the marriage often overshadows entirely the primary object of a marriage, namely, the establishment of a family. Instead of this, the transfer of names and privileges becomes the primary consideration, and fictitious marriages are performed, the sole object of which is the transfer of names, privileges, and property previously described.

Difficulties arise when no daughter is available through whose marriage a name may be transmitted to her offspring. It cannot be done directly through the marriage of a son. For instance, a certain chief had two wives and only one son. The son married two wives but had no issue. Then the chief "turned the left side of his son's body" into a woman and gave him the name belonging to the eldest daughter of his line. Soon another chief, who wished to get the names belonging to the father of the man whose one side had been turned into a woman, wooed her, and the whole marriage ceremony was performed. The young man stayed in his father's house, but when the time for the transfer of names occurred, the appropriate ceremony was performed just as though a real marriage had been performed. Sham marriages of this type are the device resorted to in such cases.

If there is no son, the father may call his foot, or one side of his body, his daughter. The marriage ceremony is performed as though these were the women married, and the names are transferred in the usual manner.

Kwakiutl Ethnography, Boas

[iersei]

Do yOUR HOMEWORK!!!(not doing my homework) (in my defense i submitted an essay and also two crwr assignments yesterday)

consider

insert let's take ibuprofen together but edited to say let's do hw together idk i'm too tired to edit that myself

(but fr i did open up some of my assignments after being made aware of the sponsibilities 👍) (and i am proud of you for accomplishing the same yesterday <3)

[comatosebunny09]

You've been putting off that oil change for far too long, sis.

You can't ignore that angry, red oil lamp leering at you from the dash much longer. So, you call a mom-and-pop shop to schedule an appointment for an oil change. And to your surprise, they have an opening right now!

Sure, you don't want to shell out the coins to keep your car running. Rather spend your money on booze, food, and whatever other oddities get you through the weekend. But you're an adult now. You've got 'sponsibilities. You want to trade that car in for a Mercedes someday.

Right?

You whip down the sunny highway, weaving through traffic. Pull up to the quaint repair shop you'd phoned earlier, still wearing your uniform and smelling like the struggle—it's inventory week. Lots of heavy lifting, sweating, and hating your life. 

It's surprisingly clean inside despite being low-key. Freshly painted, ivory walls. Glittering tile floors. Smells like bubblegum and lemon interweaved with motor oil. Warm and homely in contrast to the biting cold outside.

A neatly-arranged lobby sits on your left, two rows of chairs flanking the wall-mounted T.V., abuzz with the weather. Ceiling high windows permit sun rays to shine through. To your right is a marbled counter with a black top, unmanned, tidy stacks of paper, and intricately arranged business cards adorning it.

The door behind the counter is cracked open, a conglomerate of drilling, whirring, and shouting over heavy machinery pouring in. You ring the bell perched on the counter's edge to get serviced. Wait a few beats. Convinced no one will hear you over all the ruckus going on outside, you turn around to lean against the counter, thoroughly engrossed by your phone.

You don't notice when he sneaks in. Situational awareness has always been shit despite your profession. Hear him before you see him, his tone like static tearing into a quiet room. You flinch, spinning around to face the room's new occupant with squinted eyes.

"Good morning, Miss!" says this blond mountain of a man, throwing you off kilter. "How may I assist you?"

He's all teeth and sunshine, this guy. Towers a good foot over you. He wears sandy skin stretched over sharp features. Wiry, dark brows. Freckles stipple his nose. Dimples crater his cheeks. Wheat-colored hair bleeds into a deep crimson on his shoulders and frames his jaws. His face is smudged with what you assume is oil. But it does nothing to detract from how incredible he looks.

You can make out the virility of his body through the confines of his royal blue jumpsuit. Arms lean and bulging with veins pouring from his rolled-up sleeves. Homie clearly works out. He drums his thick fingers on the countertop. You gnaw on your lip, unconsciously imagining them wrapped around your throat...

Despite majoring in linguistics, you've suddenly forgotten how to speak. Mouth gaping like a fish. Eyes blinking rapidly. Your heart is pounding over time in your ears. You're scorching hot.

Breathe, girl.

Breathe.

When you've found your voice again, you clear your throat. Try to act all casual, like you didn't almost wet your panties. "I-I'm here for a nine-o-clock oil change."

"Ah!" he remarks as if you've unearthed the meaning of life. You resist snorting, watching this ball of electricity bounce around and fiddle with a clipboard. He passes it to you, grin never faltering, your nerves slowly draining away. "Please fill out all of the highlighted areas with your information!"

He's intense, sure. Like an ecstatic puppy waiting for its owner to toss a tennis ball. But he gives you good vibes. Smile is infectious. You can't help the ghost of one sliding past your lips as you grab a pen. Feel heat pervading your cheeks, and you glance down to jot down your info.

You slide the beach boy your documents and keys when you're done. He dangles them between you, chuckling at your choice of keychain. A gaudy, fuzzy, pink ball that's been through some things. You're suddenly self-conscious. A little more self-aware, with your hair sticking up at odd angles, your uniform coated with a film of dust, and the laces of your boots peeking out. Though, dude doesn't seem to notice or care.

He tells you to make yourself comfortable halfway out the door again. Motions to the coffee bar nestled beneath the T.V. Flashes you another thousand-watt smile. Says, "my name is Kyojuro, by the way," before going outside to bring your ride around back.

As you plop your weary bones into a chair in the lobby, you can't help wondering how someone that hot ended up working at a place like this.

But dammit, if you don't enjoy having something nice to look at while you wait.

Masterlist

[the-spider-cg]

Don't wanna go to sleep Angel!! Big and sponsible' to not go bed till 10!! Going bed early for' babies! >:{

Uh-huh...whatever you say kiddo

[kayjaydee17]

Wait I love the idea of Izzy’s conversations with Ed being like “yes?” “no.” “yay, yes!” He just wants to toddle ahead and go to where he needs to be, of course with Daddy staying close by, and have a million little baby adventures. He’ll take Ed’s phone and walk around pretending to be on a call, he’ll drool over Ed’s water bottle and coffee cups, he’ll put his little hands all over Ed and everything he has, then as soon as he gets a little bit tired or hungry or icky all he wants is Papa.

"Daddy? Daddy, can? Daddy, pwease? Daddy, yes?"

"No."

"Yaaaaaaaaay, yes!"

He is a very important very busy baby with THINGS TO DO, Daddy! He needs to run down the road to see Papa! He needs to hold Daddy's phone and check his emails and if "checking emails" looks identical to "drool all over it", that's just baby business!

And then his tummy hurts or he gets sleepy or his nappy is wet and itchy, and he loves Daddy, but Daddy is NOT 'sponsible enough for this. Big things like Izzy Needs Help are for PAPA.

Ed has no problem with this. "Sorry, mate, the tyke wanted you," he'll say, shrugging and grinning, as Stede glares at him while a grumpy, grouchy, hurty baby sits in his lap and wails.

[coyote-kiddo]

screw my big kid 'sponsibilities an worries i jus wanna be swaddled in a big comfy blanket

[scripturekiddie]

WEB 3 POINT NO HAPPENING (High Level Why)

World of Nerds, WinkleVi, & the Reality Challenged

By ScriptureKiddie

Disclaimer: If you offend easily (stop being a pu**y) TURN BACK

Do you ever wonder why you feel so disconnected and lonely while living in a world with eight billion plus “intelligent” beings? The fact that most humans buy into intellectual superiority over any other of God’s creations may succinctly recapitulate the sum of glaring historical failures in every facet of our existence on this planet. Humans decadently guzzle their homemade, flavorless Kool-Aid until they convince themselves it is top shelf quality hydration. If you are offended by that truth, then stop reading now because this pill is jagged as fuck.

The world is loud, unnecessarily busy, riddled with red tape, wrapped in policy, with a policy to that policy on top of its policy, smothered in misinterpretation of misrepresentation and outright lies. Any of the few who fluently speak and comprehend reality (truth) feel the disconnect, the rest revel in the bro-ness of connectivity. The geeks and weirdos behind the wondrous blockchain and the idiocy that has ensued take this shit to a whole other level of fuckery, though. This is not a history paper so I will not delve into the faceless moron who started all this stupidity (I wouldn’t want anyone to know how big a failure I was either with this garbage). Well intended or not, the proof is in the Fonzarelli of Ponzi schemes known as crypto and Web 3.0 that click baiters from all walks of the lower rung of media can’t help but splatter all over the land of fake believe.

Meet The Fockers

I will not go deep, because TLDR is a waste of (y)our more precious than thou time, but let’s have a high-level gander at the cast of characters. It is pretty telling that some of the biggest names in nerdom have been handed or are awaiting lengthy (you think your juice box got jacked in high school) prison sentences. Names that I do not care enough about to research for recognition because who really cares? While they focus on the art of steady and firm grips on soap bars, we will cover the ones who will most likely practice the butthole pucker at a later date.

Let’s begin with the oddball, malnourished, (I am on the spectrum, so I get to dismantle others on it) Russian sheet stain, the godfather of gouging, ahem, gas fees, Vitamin Butterfinger. The aforementioned, faceless, Satoshi (I am probably not Asian but want a name that makes me appear wiser in the ways of merging tech and finance) Shamalamadingdong, who was gone like a fart in the wind upon learning what scalability meant. The familiar faces from the boomer gen of geriatrics that refuse to retire, gam gam and gampy who publicly criticize technology while privately having their grandchildren lace em up with streams of income directly from such, leveraging assets acquired by not having to pay 15 dollars a grocery item. And last but not least, Gen(der) Z, the 9th place ribbon wielding, everyone a winner, 10 billion gender bending, soft and oft offended by: lifting fingers, shit that’s none ya business, work, and business in general, plus anything that begins with re and ends with sponsibility. Honorable mention goes to the WinkleVi brethren simply because it is almost as humorous as it is sad to watch these lovable losers scratch and claw for relevancy in a world that wants nothing to do with them. Just because Hollywood portrayed you as such, you aren’t Armie Hammer, Bruhs. Not even if there was a special ed version. Not even if there was a fire. (Random but necessary Step Brothers)

Harsh assessments, maybe, but do your homework on any of them and you will understand that equalizers exist in this world to remind the wicked of who they truly are. Though I am not proclaiming I was sent, I will absolutely be dealt with by The Creator for the judgment of others, I am necessary. My sins versus any other person, are equal in weight to God but since humans have a different measurement system, at least I am not stealing from people by way of lies and manipulation. The sheer volume of Russian players and investors should be all the warning needed to steer clear of this insanity. That Russian in the shadows of the underbelly sure looks like a square businessman to me said no one ever.

By ScriptureKiddie

The Labyrinth

Smoke and mirrors, a boomer simplicity passed on as genius to a generation of identifiers of magical meows, void of gold royalty, and entrepreneurial owners of nothing. A “decentralized” web of dubiety, dumb contracts, and tens of thousands of fly by night, backed by jack “currencies” that have zero value to anyone trading tangible items. The exception being drugs, which, hey, you had something. Untraceable currency, until it was traceable. Hence, fail, fail, fail, and N FAIL T. Since we are now obligated to not hurt the feelings of those who fail, you get a pink ribbon of FAIL. Oh, but you are all wealthy, self-made (that word alone will spark my next blog as I school you on why you own nothing, have no talent, nor control a thing aside from the grace given of Whom you probably deny), and probably even conned some real humans into giving you nice things based on the ledger of lies you call a “Blockchain” huh? See how bought in they are when your system implodes, and they come looking for real things to collect to cover the debt for your Maybach bro. The point is, no matter how much complexity you wrap bullshit in, it is still bullshit. Nothing more, nothing less. The value of which is equivalent to the depths of your morals and ethics.

Why It Isn’t Expanding

So, you have this exciting new galaxy of anonymity and opportunity. Fundamentally based on a “level” playing field free from the oppression of Illuminatic (I identify that as a word now before you open your mouth Sir Poops with Kitty Kitties) dark forces and oversight by the blind, yet you are not growing at a pace commensurate with the lies of allure you are pumping into the ether. You woke though bro, so how is it not knocking you upside your mis-shaped/guided noggin?? Perhaps you had a realistic shot if you hadn’t outsmarted your own stupidity by creating a matrix of protocols too intricate for you to even explain in layman’s about how to send your “currency” from one shady entity to the next. This custodial wallet does this and supports this network of noncustodial sham dams which can bridge to that flatulent DEX to the one you can’t use in America but is being heavily promoted to Americans, so yea we are working on that, but you need to call Biden. Advise the poster child of confusion to fix it so we can share digital nothingness across invisible international lines of ignorance? You have the face and brain capacity only a mother could love. I won’t even mention, except I will, that Vitamin McForehead’s gas fees more oft than not exceed the transactional value being placed. Brilliance on levels of epic never before seen in the history of mental you know the R word. *** So as not to be canceled by the generation that ignores the fact that God is THE ONLY ONE who can cancel anything ***

Allow me a moment to google how to speak in idiot so I can break it down for all the “illuminated” minds who will more than likely be stuck at the first analogy wrapped fuck you I have placed throughout this un and necessarily pointed reality check. Suzie homemaker and simplistic business Bob aren’t down with it bruh. The seniority of Millennials are getting older and beginning to realize the massive mistakes made coddling you into the problem you have become. They do not have 35 hours a day to learn how to buy the drugs needed to cope with you on the dark web with the latest meme scam coin. Drug dealers do and will continue to exist in the flesh. Younger Millennials still buying in will begin having children that require resources bought in places that do not support Shima Uba Fluffy tokens. Biden gets confused tying his shoe and the boomers ultimately will fade into the afterlife for which they have prepared by faith and works (or lack thereof) during their lives (Trump is stuck on 2nd grade arithmetic so I wouldn’t get my hopes up). Gen X would rather send you to oblivion by way of banishing you to a nature preserve and placing bets on how many days (hours) will pass before corpses start surfacing. Do I need to elaborate any further?

By ScriptureKiddie

Novel Idea with Shady Intentions

The idea behind blockchain technology is sufficiently relevant and necessary. The problem is, you aren’t operating any differently than the evil scum that you claim to be building impenetrable walls against. The transparency is of paramount importance, that of which is the only protocol decently in place. Anyone with basic reading and comprehension skills can ascertain that financial, corporate, and government entities are nothing more than transparently in bed swapping syphilis, gonorrhea, and herpes amongst one another. Inserting complexity into elementary processes in an effort to line beneficiary pockets has been employed by bureaucrats since humans magically morphed into intelligent beings from tsetse fly excrement 200 billion trillion fillion years ago per the rocks and shit. Right after the bang that came from absolutely nothing. You are doing the same thing.

The cryptocurrency infrastructure is no different and it is a system destined for inevitable failure as referenced by every other innovation bred by human greed. You aren’t going mainstream with the status quo. Granted there are ways to profit with Bitcoin (at this point you need some money to play with), the Ether business model is a not so cleverly concocted Ponzi scheme staying glued together by a generation of creatively challenged copy/paste bloggers and untalented bags of douche known as influencers. It is not set up for the average Joe to do anything other than dump real money in and “HODL”, stake (scam), and mint (scam) NFT’s so the whales can gobble up the proceeds.

I intentionally did not dive into Web 3.0 because every other point renders it useless as is constructed. A collection of Atari inspired landing pages offering more confusion into the madness will last as long as the blockchain it is built on. The concept has merit, but you mofo’s are way off right now. If you would just surrender your life to God, you wouldn’t have to trick people into thinking you are relevant and swindle them for money they actually earn, remove all value from it, then turn into a bag of magic beans. You have only managed to take something worthless and make it worth less. I will give you a first-place ribbon for that shit.v

[smashingsire]

@hxroic-wxlls

The King was suggested by his close staff that he should get out of his own comfort zone and hang out with his old friends back in Smash Bros., such as those he made ties with. While Dedede flicked through photos of those people he spent time with, he pondered on who exactly he should really meet up with.

He then looked up some other pictures across the Smash Bros. social online chat room titled SmashBook. “Huuuuuh… gotta remember that they have their own lives back in their own worlds… but who ain’t that chocked fulla ‘sponsibilities… Link dun’ talk much an’ I dunno which ‘un to talk to… Zelda can smile ‘unce y’get t’know her… Ness is in that there baseball game, Palutena will prob’ly call me a ‘video game’ NPC… whutever that there means… Newsworthy Penguin Crown…? Huh. Hey, whut ‘bout Peach? She makes terrific teas an’ tarts! An’ Luigi, he’s a good ‘un, but I ain’t steppin’ foot int’ his mansions!”

From there, Dedede made a portal towards the Mushroom Kingdom all with the power of the very Crystal Shard that he received from his current girlfriend, Queen Ripple. He wasted no time hopping out of his throne, but at the cost of tripping over his robe’s hem. “WhuuuWOOAAAH!!” And then he fell directly into the portal, having an image of the white palace and green hills. Upon falling on the other side, his face that found the gardens then lifted itself, looking up at a bunch of curious mushroom people.

“Uhhh… g’mornin’, fun-guys? I come here on royal an’ social business…”