wisherbysharlight

[wisherbysharlight]

Happy pride month to my dad. When I came out as bi to him, this man googled what it ment, look at me and said "ohh. Yeah. You get that from me. You'd have far more siblings of I only shaged women." And went right back to his work emails.

[wisherbysharlight]

In a world where genies are commonplace and delight in granting wishes in the most inconvenient way possible, you are a defense attorney who must defend your client, a well-meaning genie who is charged with felonious wish-granting.

[wisherbysharlight]

can you guys stop fighting over the same peice of lettuce. there is literally more right behind you

Don't get involved in things you don't understand

[wisherbysharlight]

the 3ds is such an elegant device like she can play games she can fold she can be hacked what can't she do

[wisherbysharlight]

if you buy a 999.75 dollar item and then a gumball then you really just bought two 500 dollar things which is a lot better

[wisherbysharlight]

Knight who seeks to get injured in combat so she can be tenderly held by her Lady but she keeps absolutely killing it out there and she's too honorable to throw a fight

[wisherbysharlight]

[wisherbysharlight]

i’m sick and tired of people pretending that burger isn’t delicious just to clown on americans. america deserves the ridicule, but why’s burger catching strays? burger did nothing wrong

[wisherbysharlight]

[wisherbysharlight]

Did you know when tomatoes were first introduced to Italy people thought they were gauche because they were a) foreign and b) considered aphrodisiacs on account of being wet, red, and fleshy?

Like not only were they from *gasp* South America (or whatever Italians called it in the 16th Century) but it's going to make people HORNY!!! So it was very taboo to serve them in high society.

Source: GENTILCORE, DAVID. Pomodoro!: A History of the Tomato in Italy. Columbia University Press, 2010. https://doi.org/10.7312/gent15206.

(I'm so high right now, Batman. But people have always been weird about sex and food history is the story of colonization and it's fascinating)

just asked my Italian wife and he says the tomato looks "like a very voluptuous person that I would love to get my hands on" so it seems the attitude persists. she also offered unprompted that she also thinks pasta is sexy

[wisherbysharlight]

i’m a weird little guy married to a very normal guy. so sometimes when i partake in weird little guy behavior and mr. normal guy doesn’t say anything i’ll turn to him and say, “are you not endeared by me?” and every single time without fail he responds, “i’m very endeared by you, sweetheart.”

until today.

i was in the kitchen with the lights off frog-squatted in front of the open fridge door eating a cold rotisserie chicken straight from the bag with my bare hands. you know. like god intended.

so when he walks into the kitchen and spots me his step falters. and i look up at him grinning with rotisserie chicken particles on my face and say, “what? are you not endeared by me?”

he looks at me for a moment longer before saying, “no.” and walking out, forgetting about whatever it was he came in there for.

[wisherbysharlight]

It seems like the older I get, the more irrationally angry casual censorship makes me. And it isn't just the "unalive" "grape" alleged filter-dodging vernacular, but the way normal words will be peppered with asterisks, or screenshots will have words like "gay" "hell" "fuck" etc either partially or entirely blurred. Who is this helping? What is the purpose of it, except to reinforce shame and elevate a flimsy perception of purity and safety, however those things manifest. It's so tiresome and I'm sick of it.

[wisherbysharlight]

Luigi Mangione has been locked up since December 2024, and he's been met with nothing but the violation of his rights every step of the way. Luigi's right to be treated humanely is constantly violated, as is his right to the presumption of innocence and a fair trial. Evidence is not being provided to his legal team, and he's being treated with prejudice by law enforcement.

Luigi is not a handsome face and a few jokes online. He is a real human being with real pain and real health issues. Luigi is a young man fighting for his life and the media is doing nothing but trying to sexualize him and make light of his situation.

Luigi has already lost so much to this, and although he remains resilient, it's important to remember that his circumstances can't possibly be good. It's also important to remember that if they can do it to Luigi, they can do it to more people, to your loved one, to you.

So please, keep talking about Luigi. Keep standing by Luigi. Keep supporting Luigi.

Never let Luigi Mangione walk alone.

~

Petition to drop federal terrorism charge & death penalty for Luigi Mangione

Luigi's Official Legal Fund

[wisherbysharlight]

Lets go All Over The Fucking Place with mama

[wisherbysharlight]

[wisherbysharlight]

I think I may never be sad ever again. There is a statue entitled "Farewell to Orpheus" on my college campus. It's been there since 1968, created by a Prof. Frederic Littman that use to work at the university. It sits in the middle of a fountain, and the fountain is often full of litter. I have taken it upon myself to clean the litter out when I see it (the skimmers only come by once a week at max). But because of my style of dress, this means that bystanders see a twenty-something on their hands and knees at the edge of the fountain, sleeves rolled up, trying not to splash dirty water on their slacks while their briefcase and suit coat sit nearby. This is fine, usually. But today was Saturday Market, which means the twenty or so people in the area suddenly became hundreds. So, obviously, somebody stopped to ask what I was doing. "This," I gestured at the statue, "is Eurydice. She was the wife of Orpheus, the greatest storyteller in Greece. And this litter is disrespectful." Then, on a whim, I squinted up at them. "Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?" "No," they replied, shifting slightly to sit.

"Would you like to?"

"Sure!"

So I told them. I told them the story as I know it- and I've had a bit of practice. Orpheus, child of a wishing star, favorite of the messenger god, who had a hard-working, wonderful wife, Eurydice; his harp that could lull beasts to passivity, coax song from nymphs, and move mountains before him; and the men who, while he dreamed and composed, came to steal Eurydice away. I told of how she ran, and the water splashed up on my clothes. But I didn't care. I told of how the adder in the field bit her heel, and she died. I told of the Underworld- how Orpheus charmed the riverman, pacified Cerberus with a lullaby, and melted the hearts of the wise judges. I laughed as I remarked how lucky he was that it was winter- for Persephone was moved by his song where Hades was not. She convinced Hades to let Orpheus prove he was worthy of taking Eurydice. I tugged my coat back on, and said how Orpheus had to play and sing all the way out of the Underworld, without ever looking back to see if his beloved wife followed. And I told how, when he stopped for breath, he thought he heard her stumble and fall, and turned to help her up- but it was too late. I told the story four times after that, to four different groups, each larger than the last. And I must have cast a glance at the statue, something that said "I'm sorry, I miss you--" because when I finished my second to last retelling, a young boy piped up, perhaps seven or eight, and asked me a question that has made my day, and potentially my life: "Are you Orpheus?" I told the tale of the grieving bard so well, so convincingly, that in the eyes of a child I was telling not a story, but a memory. And while I laughed in the moment, with everyone else, I wept with gratitude and joy when I came home. This is more than I deserve, and I think I may never be sad again.

Here is the aforementioned statue, by the way.