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i know her heart was in the right place but my mom wrote this in the funniest way possible

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My weird dice, it works as a full set of dnd dice

explain yourself

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Sometimes I say self loathing things to my therapist and he looks at me dead in the eyes before saying “You fucking moron.” and tbh same

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is it weird dice wednesday? someone donated these to the donation center where I work. they appear to be made of some kind of powdery clay. I thought they were dried out marshmallows at first. I'm not sure why anyone would get rid of their homemade dice, I find them quite charming.

it's always weird dice wednesday somewhere

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Oh good I found this image again

I don't remember where I got it from

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New Challenge!! Is the man on my dashboard

a) Jesus Christ

b) Odysseus

c) Jayce Talis

d) Jonathan Sims

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This is how that scene went right guys

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Anybody else have a growing fear of updating their tech cuz everything seems to be getting worse and worse

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Today I saw a pic of a baby cowbird next 2 its nest "parent" and it was so much bigger!!!!! Which is the sort of thing that gets normal people upset about the injustice of nest parasitism but makes *me* worry if baby cowbirds get bird dysmorphia

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I’m making this post on the behalf of Sami and his family. Fundraiser here.

Sami says:

"A simple picture, yet it holds a powerful meaning. Tell me what did you understand, and what will you do? 'I understood that these children are in urgent need of donations, and I will donate. I will also share this post—it might help in some way. This image is full of sorrowful meaning, and I will do everything I can for these innocent children. I will donate so that they can go to school, eat clean food, and sleep in peace.' This is exactly what is happening right now with me and my family in the heart of Gaza. Please, donate—share—speak up. Don’t stop. We are between life and death. Don’t leave us behind."

Please do anything you can to help, any engagement is appreciated even if you cannot directly give to the campaign. Thank you so much <3.

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Absolutely wild to me how sometimes you don't even realize the way you'd been taught to perceive things as a kid was kinda fucked up, actually, until decades later.

Example:

As a kid, I constantly lived in fear of damaging shit in my parent's house. The walls. The floors (especially the floors. The wood was beautiful. Shiny. But so easy to scratch). The cabinets.

As a sixteen-year-old, I once took my car to the dealership after work and paid a very dear sum of $250 ($10/hr cashier salary) to fix a slight scratch in the paint because I knew if my father saw it there would be hell to pay. It didn't matter that I parked far out, like I'd been taught, and someone scratched it anyway. It was my fault. I failed in my duties as a steward of my vehicle.

Every time I scratched a rim on a curb while parallel parking or got a door ding or, god forbid, didn't wash and vacuum that car every weekend, it was treated like some sort of moral failing.

Last year, when my husband and I first moved into our house, he scraped the side of our car when parking in our (Very Narrow) garage. When he told me, my first instinct was to be afraid for him. Like something terrible was going to happen to him because of this mistake. I urgently reassured him that it was okay, it was an accident, I wasn't mad. Baffled, he was like, "Yeah? I know? Like, thank you for the reassurance, but I'm only a little annoyed, I'm not upset. It's just a car." And I had to take several minutes to process that. It's...just a car.

We keep the car tidy. We maintain it. But we wash it maybe 4x a year. We only vacuum it after dirty road trips or when the dog hair starts to get annoying. It has scrapes and dings and the leather seats have stains. But that's ok. Because it's just a car.

This morning, I realized that a small rock had gotten embedded in the felt foot on one of our bar stools. Neither of us had noticed. There are now scratches on our beautiful hardwood floor. My immediate response was fear accompanied by a heavy measure of paralyzing guilt. "I'm so sorry," I told my husband, "I should have noticed. I'll figure out how to fix it, I swear. I can probably sand down that section and match the stain and--"

"Whoa, hey," he said. "It was an accident. And it's fine. Floors are going to get damaged. They're floors. We live here. There was damage in places before we even bought the house, remember? It's not a big deal. It's just a floor." Right. It's just a floor. Right.

My husband's mom is visiting and this afternoon, as I was sitting in the kitchen looking at the scratches on the floor, I offhandedly asked her if my husband had ever broken or damaged anything as a kid. "Of course," she said. Household items. A TV. A wrecked car during his teen years. I asked how she punished him.

"Why would I punish him for things like that?" she said. "They were all accidents."

Right. Of course. Right.

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I gave my teenager the first book of the Javelin project by @derinthescarletpescatarian and they have become as consumed by it as I did

Hahaha!

My nefarious plot of having my kid enjoy weird sci-fi with me is working!

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I continue to run into people that are confused as to why Americans have screens on our windows and it’s really quite simple.

Bugs

Diseases carried by bugs

Other assorted wildlife such as dogs and teenagers

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