Late nights and early parades Still photos and noisy arcades My darling we’re both on the wing Look down and keep on singing and we can go anywhere © Owl City

fun funeral facts

For those of you interested, the youtube channel Ask A Mortician does a lot of videos on taboo death subjects, answers questions and is a huge advocate for natural burials and being present during the actual funeral process so you don’t get taken advantage of by the funeral industry. She’s one of my favourite youtubers and I highly recommend her videos.

a note on people who always say “i don’t mind” whenever you ask where they want to eat/what they want to watch/etc:

usually this is because they’ve been punished in the past for voicing their opinions, not because they’re out to annoy you specifically. depending on how much flack they used to receive, it can be very stressful for them if you try and force them to offer up an idea.

a lot of my friends who do this appreciate me giving out like… three options. pick three different things that you will be happy to do any of and ask which of those three options they’d prefer. it removes the fear of “what if they don’t like my suggestion” without erasing their option to chose and have preferences so, you know, good all around

Got to add something else- this also happens when they were raised in a poor family, too. You’re offering to share something with them, they feel that you should get the majority vote in choosing because you are doing it. (Speaking from experience here.)

also, if they still don’t want to choose one, don’t make them! it’s really stressful and personally it makes me mentally shut down

Despite what liberals say, an ‘x’ marker on government identification is not a step forward for trans and nonbinary inclusion, it is a creation of a masterlist of trans and/or nonbinary people, it is just another chance to be mistreated and catalogued by a government that does not want us to exist. A true ‘step forward’ for trans and nonbinary inclusion would be the removal of gender markers from all government documentation.

People in the notes saying that there needs to be a gender marker on your ID in case of medical emergencies are 100% wrong. EMTs, Paramedics, and ER doctors do not rely on gender markers on IDs at all. Many patients don’t even have their ID with them when they have a medical emergency.

NEVER in all my time as an EMT did I encounter a situation where I needed to riffle through someone’s wallet and find out whether their ID said “M” “F” (or “X”) before I could treat them. If a patient was unconscious I usually got their name and medical history from whoever called 911, and left any remaining information blank. Regardless, the priority would be getting them to the hospital, at which point the hospital staff could usually access their medical records and fill in the rest of that information. Having a gender marker on your ID really isn’t going to change the care you get.

But you know who DOES look at ID? Cops. Cops who are already scrutinizing trans and gender non-conforming people, and who are already going out of their way to harass and brutalize us. Having a gender marker on IDs gives cops another means to question our gender, and cops actively use gender markers on IDs to harm trans/nb people, especially when the marker on their ID does not match their appearance or presentation. Adding an X marker will not fix that, it might even draw more scrutiny in some situations. Removing the gender marker would remove that added danger, and decrease the ability of the cops to harass our community.

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch.  Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out.  I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house.  I stood there, right in front of the front door.  This was a novel experience for me.  I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing. 

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back.  “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before.  Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light.  A few of them threw puzzled glances my way.  I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing.  I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed.  I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house.  I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like?  I’ll put it into the group chat.”  He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell.  It was worth a shot.  “Um, it’s just a ring of keys.  The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big.  Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out.  Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering.  It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder.  One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob.  “Girl!  Hey, GIRL!!!  We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me.  I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old.  One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered.  “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs.  I thanked them again profusely.  There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.

I think the best “Boys will be boys” situations are when they all collectively share one brain cell over the most simple of tasks

This post still makes me soft

Buy Here >>> Boots $52.99 >>>FREE SHIPPING!!!    

Get 10% OFF with the code: SPOOKY10 👻

thedarksideoffashion.com

I Want To Believe: A Sidlink Fancomic

FIRST (CH 1) | PREVIOUS | NEXT (CH 3)

And that’s a wrap on chapter 2! I’ll take a short hiatus for chapter 3 and I’ll return once I’m ready (hopefully in two weeks). I’ll be uploading Chapter 3 early as I finish the pages and more onto my patreon. I can’t believe we’re at the end of chapter 2 already!!! I’m so excited to get started on ch 3, you guys will love what I have in store for yall

PATREON| KOFI| COMMISSIONS

Me following this guy around to deliberately make him sick:

hey lesbians what’s the typical “straight guy” thing u do that u pull off way better than any man? personally i’m a hot jock who manspreads when she sits and sleeps in boxers

Loving and caring for women

Hello, 911? I just witnessed a murder.

I couldn’t even pick the funniest sequence from this episode. This is basically its entire plot and it’s gold.

waitress assigned kin

As someone who’s worked in several cafes, I’m mad at how accurate this is.

I will forever remember the time my friend and I were out for chinese food. we got up to pay and I (the short one with bottom energy i guess?) revealed that I would be paying for the meal, and the elderly man at the counter just flat out said “Oh, YOU’RE the boss!”

abac (assigned bottom at chili’s)

In the west:

meanwhile in Japan:

“Amateur Opossum Actress” by Rebecca Kriz

I object to the diminishment of this opossum’s OBVIOUS theatrical skill and training

Faking a major event would require thousands of people. Try managing a project. getting twelve people to do what they are supposed to, on time, without blabbing early, is nearly impossible.

12? Wow you have high hopes try 9.

words of power do exist…. i can walk out of my apartment wearing the most fuck shit, e.g. swim trunks as shorts w a zipped up hoodie and no shirt underneath, and just say the words “laundry day” and suddenly it’s way less weird

“laundry day” spell: decreases target’s judgment of outfit by 80%

“The less you eat, drink and buy books; the less you go to the theatre, the dance hall, the public house; the less you think, love, theorise, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more you save – the greater becomes your treasure which neither moths nor rust will devour – your capital. The less you are, the less you express your own life, the more you have, i.e., the greater is your alienated life, the greater is the store of your estranged being.”

-Karl Marx

karl marx said shop till u drop bitch