What brings people together is not mutual love but mutual hatred. Share a random, benign, food-related hatred with me:

please make every effort to vote <3

Voter suppression is a real problem!! I know so many people in real life that are LGBTQ and or left leaning irl that seem to think theres no hope and dont bother to vote! Its insane!!

Why are you lgbtq+? wrong answers only GO

bees?

to elaborate:

- her parents didn't belive she was hearing "monsters" in the walls. it was 60,000 bees

- she is 3 years old

- her parents gave her a spray bottle to "spray away the monsters". it was 60,000 bees

- they didn't belive her for 8 minths

- removal cost them $20,000 BECAUSE IT WAS 60,000 BEES!!!!!!

Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

 “God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

I think a lot about how we as a culture have turned “forever” into the only acceptable definition of success.

Like… if you open a coffee shop and run it for a while and it makes you happy but then stuff gets too expensive and stressful and you want to do something else so you close it, it’s a “failed” business. If you write a book or two, then decide that you don’t actually want to keep doing that, you’re a “failed” writer. If you marry someone, and that marriage is good for a while, and then stops working and you get divorced, it’s a “failed” marriage.

The only acceptable “win condition” is “you keep doing that thing forever”. A friendship that lasts for a few years but then its time is done and you move on is considered less valuable or not a “real” friendship. A hobby that you do for a while and then are done with is a “phase” - or, alternatively, a “pity” that you don’t do that thing any more. A fandom is “dying” because people have had a lot of fun with it but are now moving on to other things.

I just think that something can be good, and also end, and that thing was still good. And it’s okay to be sad that it ended, too. But the idea that anything that ends is automatically less than this hypothetical eternal state of success… I don’t think that’s doing us any good at all.

Characters dynamic that’s like “ they’re not in a romantic relationship but they definitely love each other with all their heart and fucking soul”

Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

 “God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

damn bro it was a tie 😭

welp, time to make a new one that lasts longer

HIND’S HALL IS NOW ON STREAMING SERVICES.

Let’s get Hind’s Hall to Number 1. Macklemore has stated that ALL proceeds from streaming will be going to UNRWA to help displaced Palestinian families. So, if you’re struggling financially, this is a brilliant way to raise funds that will help affected families get the help that they need, whilst simultaneously spreading a very important message.

You can find the track here:

Spotify

Apple Music

Youtube

Buy on iTunes

TikTok sound

It’ll essentially mean we’re getting streaming services to pay up, as typically they pay artists around $0.003 per stream— so, for example, if Hind’s Hall reaches 10,000,000 (ten million) on Spotify alone, that’s $30,000 for UNRWA. Life changing numbers.

The best way to amplify streaming is by adding it to your playlists, or making a playlist with duplicate additions of the song (with other tracks inbetween.) Again, thank you to Macklemore for doing this and using your platform.

Please let us know of any other artists doing the same! Let’s utilise what we can to get funds to Palestinians.

BY 小同学手工

foodstamps themselves are BASED, especially if you live in california. pls update your misconceptions about them, theyre not limited like they used to be! almost any grocery store outside of specialty stores uses EBT including fancyass places like wholefoods. some specialty stores do, but you have to ask before you go. i found out hmart takes EBT and its great, i get specialty korean groceries for free.

theres very few things you cant get. alcohol and hot food, but the hot food one is kinda fuzzy, sometimes things count and other times they dont. you kinda have to find out by buying it and seeing if it takes your card.

you CAN get snacks and chips and junk food, ice cream, desserts, ive gotten a whole ham, tri tip, a wholeass prime rib, etc.

if youre unemployed and disabled GET ON EBT NOW especially if youre in a richer state because you will have so much ebt that you will have extra and no idea what to do with it except treat yourself. i eat at trader joes and whole foods and hmart every month without running out of money most of the time. i am by no means living in luxury otherwise, but my food situation is GREAT and i live a little in excess ngl im grocery spoiled. theres a chance you too could get this.

dont delay. get on food stamps. NOW!

Also!! I know in New Mexico, if you take your stamps to a Farmers Market, they’ll have a table there where you can pay stamps and get tokens to give to the local food merchants!! And here they’ll DOUBLE IT!! You get a set number that can be used on any foods including meat, and then a ton more excluding use on meat, with double the buying power!!

We got approved for some emergency a while back, about $100, and we went straight there to spend $200 on veggies and meats and mushrooms and local honey, with lots of extra to freeze!! We got a giant sack of pinto beans, and a gallon bag of pecans, one vendor even let us trade for their home grown loofahs!! Farmers markets kick ASS and you should absolutely find out if your local market has a program like this!! It’s a state thing in NM so they ALL have this option!

i know this is the same case in oregon and washington and i believe california! go get some farm fresh food and support local business 💝

My sweet patreon’s voted on my next clown so here is the clown knight!~

Israel doing well in Eurovision is a completely predictable result of the boycott. The people who are watching & voting in Eurovision are now at best willfully ignorant and apathetic and at worst actively pro-Israel, meaning there will be a disproportionate amount of people willing to vote for Israel and even people voting for them because of the boycott.

But saying that means that boycotting Eurovision was the wrong call completely misses the point of the boycott. The point is not "Israel should not win Eurovision", it is "Israel should not be allowed to compete in the first place". The point of the boycott is not to give the EBU views or money, so if you've been boycotting... don't give them money or legitimacy by voting for someone tomorrow to prevent Israel from winning. If Israel does win, that does not mean boycotting failed; it only further delegitimizes the competition and confirms we should burn the whole thing down.

If Israel ends up winning, that's the EBU's problem, not ours.

Don't watch, don't vote.

“Your ‘found family’ was ‘found dead’ outside my junkyard last night, face down and ass up— the lot of them, with a red foam coming out of their mouths and anuses. It seems they were rifling through my dumpsters for some ‘Venezuelan Cigars’ as the kids call them nowadays, but since we don’t generally get organic waste like tampons, they had to make due with a couple of thermal fuses they found inside an old refrigerator. What they did next really defies logic, but the police lady told me it involved some sort of ass to mouth douching ritual. You can go ID the bodies at the morgue since literally none of these freaks had a next of kin, but I see you hanging out with them at the laundromat every fucking Thursday when I go in to do my loads. I get it kid. I see the pins on your little denim jacket. I know what it’s like, to not have a family of your own. So you have to make one. Out of the roaches and rats and dogs which crowd around you to lick at your sores. My mother died during her own birth. Then she missed mine, and my poor father passed away from the stress of bearing a child alone. He just didn’t have birthing hips like those women in musical.ly. All my siblings died during 9/11 despite none of them being within 250 miles of New York. Left little old me all alone, so I took my pansexual ass straight to Newark to follow my dreams of opening up the state’s first demiboy run junk yard. Every mook and mechanic you see lunking around here is 100% certified grade A demiboy. We screen them upon application and run them through rigorous Meyers brig testing to make sure they’re compatible with the kinds of toxins you can only find around broken down appliances and people who exist outside the gender spectrum. They’re my found family. And I would do anything to protect them.”

*turns around to unload an entire magazine into a stray dog that only just started to round the corner*