(via biosynthetic-aether)
How often do you replace or clean the towel you dry off with after bathing?
I use a fresh towel every time I shower or take a bath.
I get a fresh towel every 2/3 showers/baths.
I use one towel the entire week.
I use one towel longer than a week.
I would like to replace my bath towel more often but cannot due to reasons.
Prefer not to answer.
inspired by an argument I had with my nasty ass divorced dad
My dad isn’t nasty? I’m just a clean freak? This is crazy. First time this has ever happened.
(via mountainbirb)
if I could go back and tell my younger self something, I would say to be more proactive about getting my wisdom teeth out. my dentist suggested it when I was 17, but I waited and I lost my mom’s dental coverage at 18, so it’s just kinda been on the to do list for almost 20 years.
I got one out when I was 22 because it was rotting out of my head. I lost another along the way and literally don’t remember how. And I got one out today as part of an intentional effort I am making to right the mistake. One more, which probably has to wait until after the start of the fiscal year so I have insurance to cover it.
I just imagine my life would have been better without these loser teeth holding me back. You know? It would’ve been so easy to just get them done before they were baked into my head for 20 more years.
okay new poll!! make the perfect YA novel with me
political unrest
lesbians
bow and arrows
supernatural creatures
characters who don’t know how hot they are
characters who are hot and boyyy do they know it
found family
dragons
completely under qualified chosen one(s)
training montages
sympathetic villainy
a side character who is actually the love of your (the readers) life
alright alright I know no one likes reblogging polls, but please at least like the darn thing so the algorithm might send it to for you pages
(via minnarr)
Eddie Kingston
Trans bildad. Bilmom
being old in fandom is so so good. you’ve seen everything dozens of times. the boundaries are all drawn already. the bad things roll off like water on a duck. the good things are still so good and never lose their sparkle.
I’m kind of at a point where the “queer spaces” i feel safest in are the ones that have a pet cishet dude or two hanging around
When a space cares a lot about making sure its members are queer enough to participate, you get a space that aggressively polices the queerness of its members. There’s no way around that, it’s pretty much tautologically true. Only by paradoxically not actually caring if you’re queer or not can a group really accept the full range of what queerness can look like.
Also, a space that has room for a cis straight guy who means well and wants the best for his friends has two crucial things going for it.
1) it has space for people who are learning and might fuck up a bit while they figure things out, and that learning process is probably not so godawful and unpleasant that a guy with other prospects would have to be a fool not to go find some nicer friends. This is nice because it is very difficult to personally embody the entire alphabet at once, and learning how to be good allies to one another is a crucial part of queer solidarity. It’s nice for that process not to be painful.
2) it has space for people who aren’t yet willing to or comfortable with presenting an externally queer label to continue to exist and soak up the queer vibes and information, which means it’s welcoming to actual questioning people rather than the theory of questioning people. Probably it therefore has more interest in actually doing things rather than hierarchy politics.
3) it’s probably not a radfem tar pit interested in weaponising you against people they’ve decided to hate in a social smear war that benefits nobody and nothing but their need for a power trip
Oh it’s even more than that! The cis straight guy is very often a ride home, dad or husband. Or a Bob which I will explain in this essay is a signifier of a healthy ecosystem, like frogs are.
This is a 3 am take so consider this a blanket apology and a readmore but if you hate this post you were warned.
(via mxmarkargent)
The allegations,,,
(via mxmarkargent)
Anonymous asked: Wait are we all ignoring that you apparently threw a shark once? Please tell us more!
My family likes to vacation in Topsail, North Carolina, which is a little barrier island mostly covered in vacation homes. We rent a huge house in their off season, when most people consider it too cold to be at the beach, and we, with our icewater blood, consider it quite pleasantly deserted.
I love going for walks at night, especially when there’s a clear sky, so I, age sixteen, would go a few miles up the beach around midnight most nights. One night, while still about a mile from our house, I saw something rolling in the surf.
“That’s either a plastic bag caught on a log,” I thought, “Or a four foot shark.”
I jogged over. It was not a plastic bag caught on a log.
The shark was moving and didn’t appear to be hurt, but was caught in water only an inch or so deep, being pushed higher with every wave. I was by myself, and didn’t own a cell phone, and couldn’t see a house with lights on in either direction. There was nobody around. Leaving to go get help would probably take long enough for him to suffocate. The best thing I could do for this shark, I figured, would be to get him back in the ocean.
I have no idea how he wound up so high on the beach, because it was a very shallow slope. I’d have to carry him a good fifteen or so feet to get him into water deep enough to swim. It was nearly a full moon, so I could sort of see what I was doing. I got a grip on the shark, careful not to squeeze too hard, in case he was hurt, and picked him up. He didn’t like that at all.
I started walking into the water. Here’s a thing I didn’t know about sharks: They’re pretty damn flexible. I got a couple steps with this shark, looked down, and realized there were a hell of a lot of teeth coming directly at my forearm.
It occurred to me that I had not thought this through very well.
I’m not proud of what I did. It seemed like the best way to get this shark back in deep enough water and avoid dropping thirty pounds of very bitey animal directly on my own toes. So.
I yote the shark with as much force as I could muster.
He curved through the air like a thing of beauty, all angry and toothsome in the moonlight, and splashed wonderfully into the deeper waters. I caught a glimpse of fin diving away shortly after.
And that’s the last I saw of him.
my name Hellen,
i walk the sand,
i lift the shark
stuk on the land.
before the teeth
can find their mark,
i thro the fish,
i yote the shark.im fuckin weeping
Some bugs