And Have No Thorns To Distance Me

fuck i’m trying to catch all these flies but they think my vinegar is stupid. i have honey also but that’s for me i can’t give them any of that

management trying to hire and retain employees

"what the fuck is your problem?" (compliment)

"are you sick in the head or something?" (flirtatious)

"fucking freak" (affectionate)

there are some internet friends where eventually you start calling them by their real name and then there’s times where its like nah son your name is crispy forever

Is that a miette?

Pride for you!  Pride for a thousand years!!

you COME OUT to miette? you come out to her as queer? oh! oh! pride for mother! pride for mother for One Thousand Years!!!!

Yeah sure Tumblr is a hellsite but I know someone who wrote a fanfic in the 1990s that someone else didn’t like, so when she was selling printed copies of the zine with the story in it out of her hotel room at a convention, this other woman STOOD IN FRONT OF HER DOOR TO REFUSE PEOPLE ACCESS. Because the story featured a ship she disliked. And I feel like somehow, 10,000 Tumblrs still can’t compare to that level of Extra.

Your periodic reminder that the technology and the scale of distribution changes, the basic impulse to fandom wank does not

8 hours of decent sleep will have you thinking things like 'i am a beautiful horse and i will never die'

2 hours of bad sleep will have you thinking things like 'i am a stranded whale and i need to be covered in dynamite in an ill-advised attempt to clear the beach'

you literally have to unironically listen to some shit like party rock anthem so you don’t kill yourself

Remember when joining fandom as a younger person meant lurking for a bit and figuring out the vibe and etiquette instead of coming in on day one and calling people weirdos for liking weirdo shit in the weirdo factory.

pulling yourself up by your strap-on or whatever they say

how do i say "horror novels these days are too woke" without sounding like a right winger. what i mean is: this one is about a woman serial killer who kills Bad Men, that one is about ~anticapitalist activists~, this one is ~queer~, that one is about *spins wheel* someone dealing with the ghosts of their immigrant roots, all of them are about intergenerational traumaaaaa. okay. cool. but is it good though. is it fucking scary

something something, losing the ability to convey horror through abstraction, through metaphor, through symbolism, through allegory, through raw unexamined un-psychiatrized feeling. if the real horror is.... dun dun dun! the patriarchy then i just feel preached to. don't use fiction as a vehicle for Saying Something About Society. write with total vulnerability and then see what it says. it will be probably be far more interesting and horrifying than what if the monster was uhh my mom's abuse or whatever. this brand of new horror writers are all so terrified of actually disclosing anything about themselves. it's like if an instagram infographic performance was a mediocre contemporary novel

like to charge, reblog to cast.