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Too many hardworking people are drowning in debt—not because they’re reckless, but because no one ever taught them how money really works. At Windsor Solutions, we believe financial literacy is more than a skill, it’s a lifeline. #WindsorSolutions #bookkeeping #smallbusinessfinance

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Things you, as an individual, cannot control: What other people post or reblog What other people say What other people do What other people believe What other people identify as/what pronouns or labels they use for themselves Things you do and should control: Who you block Who you follow What you post or reblog What you say What you do What you believe What you identify as/what pronouns or labels you use for yourself You are responsible for yourself, and for what you say and do. You are responsible for your experience on tumblr, and, to a degree, in life. If someone says/does/believes something you personally do not agree with or do not approve of, your responsibility is to block that person or stop associating with that person. You do not get to mold that person into something/someone that matches your personal aesthetic/morals/praxis. You do not get to define anyone else's experience. Ever. You do not get to force your beliefs or morals on anyone else. Ever. If someone uses pronouns for themself that you don't like? Not your business. If someone identifies in a way you don't approve of? Not your business. If someone has a kink/fetish/whatever that you think is cringe and disgusting? Not your business. Kill your inner Puritan. Your morals and beliefs are not universal, and they apply to no one but you. The sooner you stop trying to police other people and just work on curating your own online experience, the happier you will be. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you find my posts entertaining or helpful, please consider tossing a coin to my kofi. We're going through very hard times here, and would be grateful for any help. https://ko-fi.com/idiomagic

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An Ode to MAGAJim3 On Twitter

An Ode to MAGAJim3 on Twitter You sent me a message today, to complain that my profile picture shows me holding my cat. This proves, you said, that I am, clearly, a feminazi lesbian, and that no one would ever choose to fuck me, except, perhaps, for George Soros. I stared at this missive, baffled. Your profile is an enigma. Your only interests, it proclaims, are Jesus, the Second Amendment, Donald Trump, the American flag, and Bugs Bunny. I have so many questions. Before I could ask them, another message appeared. I am a fat, old woman, and my lack of makeup shows how ugly I am, you informed me. No one will ever love me, except for my cat. And George Soros, presumably. So many questions, MAGAJim3. Who hurt you? What made you think that mustache was a good idea? Why– Another message! I am a Communist whore! And so is my cat, which I have long suspected. I am sorry that my profile picture has offended you so. I am typing my apology to you right now. But wait! Another message! I need Jesus, you tell me, and a good man who would treat me right. We should talk, you say, perhaps over coffee. Even if I were not asexual, even if I were not a Communist lesbian whore, I would not fuck you, MAGAJim3, and neither would my cat. I would not fuck you, not even with a stolen dick. Your sad mustache, your giant Trump flag, your micropenis, will never know my caress. You will never get to pet my cat, if you know what I mean, MAGAJim3. I hit send, only to discover that you have blocked me. Our pixellated love affair was just another shit and run. And I am left bereft. I do not even know George Soros’ phone number. Who will ever love me now? Before I can despair, a new message arrives, from StopTheSteal1776, so perhaps I will find romance after all. Copyright Gwyndyn T. Alexander 6/22/2021 https://www.amazon.com/Gwyndyn-T-Alexander/e/B00N7BMYGC%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

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A Partial List of Commonly Misused Words

Using the wrong word, or misusing a phrase, can have a huge effect on your life. It can keep someone from hiring you, cause you to fail a test, or make readers of your fics lose interest. Words matter. Here are some of the most common mistakes, so you can avoid them in your writing:

The phrase: dog eat dog world The meaning: people will do harm to others to get ahead themselves Incorrect: doggy dog world The phrase: bear with me The meaning: bear, here, means 'to carry' not 'a furry ursine' Incorrect: bare with me (this means 'let's get naked together') The word: conscious/conscience The meaning: conscious means awake and aware, conscience means an inner sense of good vs bad Incorrect: His conscious told him not to do the thing. He regained conscience after being asleep. The phrase: free rein The meaning: loosening your grip on the reins so a horse has more freedom of movement/direction or allowing a person/character freedom from restraint so they can do whatever they want Incorrect: free reign (to reign is to rule. a ruler already has freedom to act) The word: lightning/ lightening The meaning: lightning is an electrical discharge from the sky, lightening means to make lighter or brighter Incorrect: thunder and lightening The word: tidbits The meaning: small pieces of food or gossip Incorrect: titbits The word: breath/breathe The meaning: breath is what you exhale, to breathe is the verb form Incorrect: he breathed in and out, she took a deep breathe The word: spade/spayed/spate The meaning: a spade is a digging tool or a suit in a deck of cards or a slur, spay means to remove the internal genitalia of an animal to prevent pregnancy, spate means a torrent or multiple things happening in quick succession Incorrect: he couldn't make sense of her spade of words The word: tenet/tenant The meaning: a tenant is someone who lives in a rented space, a tenet is dogma, a principle or religious belief Incorrect: the tenant of her philosophy, landlords are cruel to their tenets The phrase: tough it out The meaning: to carry on with a task despite pain or difficulty Incorrect: touch it out, thug it out, tug it out The word: regiment/regimen/regime The meaning: regiment is a military formation, regimen is a strict plan of action related to health, regime is a period of dynastic rule Incorrect: my health regiment, the Trump regimen, etc. The word: exercise/exorcise The meaning: exercise is to work out, exorcise is to banish Incorrect: exercising one's demons, exorcising one's muscles The word: deprecating/depreciating The meaning: deprecating means disapproving or speaking poorly of, depreciating means lowering in value financially Incorrect: self depreciating, his stock portfolio is deprecating The word: heroin/heroine The meaning: heroin is an opioid drug, heroine is a female protagonist Incorrect: he is addicted to heroine, she is the heroin of this story Special note: a heron is a bird, not to be confused with either of the above The word: ulterior The meaning: hidden, something beyond what is obvious Incorrect: alterior motive (alterior is not a word) The word: weary/wary The meaning: weary means exhausted, wary means cautious Incorrect: she was weary and paranoid about his motives, he hadn't slept for days and was very wary The word: palette/pallet/palate The meaning: a palette is what an artist uses, a pallet is a wooden platform for loading goods, a palate is the roof of your mouth and is used idiomatically to refer to your taste for food/sensitivity to taste Incorrect: the gourmand had a sensitive pallet This is only a partial list, but hopefully this will help you be a better writer and reader! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- If you like what I write, I'm going through terribly hard times right now. Please reblog my pinned post, or toss a coin to my kofi if you can https://ko-fi.com/idiomagic

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Book a free consultation today, and make your finances work for you!

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Horse Story #8 for @elodieunderglass

Michael Vs. The Stanford Linear Accelerator, Part Two

(Part one is here: https://www.tumblr.com/idiomagic/785703810504015872/horse-story-7-for-elodieunderglass?source=share) When last seen, Our Heroes were confronted with the Unholy Sights, Sounds, and Stench of Monkey Hell. I had dropped my reins in shock, and Michael had decided that whatever the fuck was going on, it was Very Bad Juju and exited the vicinity posthaste. He got the bit in his teeth, and bugged out at full speed. Michael was not remarkably fast for a racehorse, but I had never before ridden at full racing speed. The fact that we were going cross country, on uneven ground, up and down hills, did not help matters. My reins were flapping everywhere, I immediately lost my stirrups, and my world narrowed down to an urgent imperative to Not Fall Off. I clung to the saddle, somehow, as we charged through tall grasses and prickly bushes. I managed to get my feet back in the stirrups, and got my brain working enough to assess the overall situation. It was Not Good. Michael was bolting at full speed, I had zero control, and we were aimed directly at the site of the linear accelerator. I had maybe half a mile or so to get Michael calmed down and regain my steering before we would plunge off the steep banks and plummet ten feet or so onto concrete at approximately terminal velocity. The Stanford Linear Accelerator extends for over a mile. It looks like this, though in places the banks are vertical, and in some places they are much closer to the building:

By the time I processed our Impending Doom, I knew we were fucked. I managed to get the reins into some semblance of order, but Michael was in no mood to respond to my suggestions that we slow the fuck down. He kept charging through the brush, we hit a downslope, then suddenly we were on the precipice of the bank, with a ten foot or more drop to the concrete, and the roof of the building about 15 feet away. So Michael did the only thing possible, and jumped. And landed on the metal roof. And, somehow, skittered to a stop instead of plunging off the other side. The roof was metal, and he slid a bit, all four legs splayed out, but we made it.

When we landed, the metal horse shoes hitting the roof at speed made the most colossally apocalyptic BOOM! CLANG CLANG CLANG! noise I've ever been unfortunate enough to hear. So, there we were...standing precariously on top of the most delicate, expensive, government run scientific installations in the world. With no obvious way down. I was aware that very soon, angry military types with guns would be heading our way, and that it was going to be very difficult to explain what the fuck we were doing there. The only plan I could think of was to sneak along the roof until we found a place where the banks were close enough to jump to. I wanted to attract as little attention as possible, in the hopes that maybe no one noticed the giant clanging noises that had heralded our arrival. I kept a very firm grip on the reins, but Michael had no intention to go his own way. He was baffled to be on top of a building, and eager to take any directions from me. He had confidence that I would have A Plan, which was heartwarming but sadly misplaced.

I picked the direction I hoped was away from the control building, and nudged Michael into a slow, sedate walk. A quiet walk. A sneaky walk. CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG Oh shit. The noise was unreal. It was like being inside a steel drum during Carnival in the Caribbean. Only much less melodious and charming.

Well, I thought, no point in sneaking. And kicked Michael into a slow canter. Michael did not like the noise, at all, and when we came to a spot where the bank was more gentle and only about 8 or so feet away, he turned of his own volition and jumped. The quiet was such an intense relief. Michael was blowing hard, and covered with sweat, but I felt a strong need to make tracks and get away from the scene of our crime. We alternated between a jog and a slow canter, until we reached a clump of trees. We hid there for a couple of minutes while I took my bearings, then headed back towards the stable, walking and then jogging. We finally made it back, I gave Michael a bath, then wrapped his legs and got him back in his stall. Which is when the big black government sedan rolled up, with two Very Serious Dudes in full Men In Black suits and sunglasses. There were only a few people around at that time, and they were blissfully unaware of my crimes. I hid in the doorway of the stable, and listened. Very Serious Dude: "What do you people know about the incident at the linear accelerator? If you confess now, we will go easier on you." No one had any clue what he was talking about. Except me. Innocent Horse Person: "We have no idea what you're talking about. We've all been here all day. What's going on?" Very Serious Dude: "There was a horse on top of the accelerator. The noise and vibrations and dust from the ceiling disrupted an experiment that was three years in the making. We're going to all the stables to find the guilty party." Innocent Horse Person: "No one in their right mind would ride onto the accelerator. There's a lot of pasture up there...it must have been a loose horse. Or a deer. Or even a bull or something. It sure as hell wasn't any of us." The Very Serious Dudes left, unsatisfied. Later, one of the people from the barn came up to me. "What the hell were you up to? It had to be you and that Damned Horse. As soon as I realized that no one in their right mind would do it, I thought of you. It couldn't be anyone else. You're just fucking lucky to be alive." And I am.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you like the Michael Stories, please reblog my pinned post and donate if you can. https://ko-fi.com/idiomagic

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This Pride Month, Windsor Solutions stands with LGBTQIA+ entrepreneurs, offering bookkeeping, business funding, marketing strategy, real estate lending, and more to help your dream thrive. Not just for June, but always. 🌈 #PrideMonth #LGBTQIA #WindsorSolutions