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@april-december
"More than anyone."

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Collins is gone.
Namaygoosisagagun First Nation/Collins has burned to the ground. The entire community is nothing but ashes after being quickly consumed by wildfires. They did not have any support from emergency services, and no one offered aid. The community saved themselves by escaping into boats because no one came.
Mishkeegogamang and Cat Lake have lost power. Families are ending up in shelters with nothing. Armstrong, Lac La Croix, Whitesand, Gull Bay, Lac des Mille Lacs are currently in the fires path and all members are being evacuated.
All this loss, all this devastation, and it was entirely preventable.
After steadily underfunding wildland firefighting and purposefully excluding Indigenous wildland firefighters and Indigenous wildfire organizations from wildfire operations, firefighter training, decisionmaking, and resource exchanges, in 2025, Doug Ford slashed the forest firefighting budget.
It's hard to ignore his decision to cut funding and leave us out of adequate fire training (even though we've lived with forest fires for thousands of years—far longer than settlers have been in Canada—and made sure fires like the ones we're all seeing today were prevented through kinisitotēn) when, despite making up less than 5% of the population, we account for 42% percent of all wildfire evacuations in Canada.
And when we are successfully evacuated, we face discrimination and racism—like Kashechewan—because it's always been easier to blame us than it is to blame the true culprit: denialism, corportate greed, and colonization.
The people of Collins and every other impacted community deserve better.
Right now, the AFN is currently accepting donations to help Collins First Nation. If you're able to, please consider donating.
ONWA (Ontario Native Women's Association) is another great place to donate to. They have outreach vans going to motels and inns and offering food, water, resources, and cultural support to those impacted by the wildfires.
Other places to consider donating to are Mikinakoos Emergency Fund, Red Cross, True North Aid, Indigenous Climate Action. You can also send donations directly to Whitesand First Nation via e-transfer ([email protected]) and they request that you add your full name in the e-transfer comment section to receive a tax receipt.
*Before sending money, verify that the appeal appears on an official First Nation, Tribal Council or registered charity channel.
If you can't offer financial support, please consider donating items of need. Moontime Connections is currently accepting drop-off donations. If you live in the Thunder Bay area, Namaygoosisagagun Health Office is also taking in donations! They can also bemailed to Superior Inn Hotel & Conference Centre at 555 West Arthur Street, Thunder Bay, ON, P7E 5P8.
items needed are: food, diapers, medical masks, men’s and women’s joggers (all sizes), children’s clothing (newborn to size 14), children’s shoes, summer clothing, men’s clothing, toiletries (lotion, Vaseline, toothpaste, toothbrushes, shampoo, conditioner, soap, deodorant, etc.), strollers, adult depends-all sizes, dog & cat food
wīya ispīh iyiniw-kiskīyihtamowin pasikōpayiki kāwi askiy ta-iyihyīmakan
Perfection
Ignorance
Insolence
A free-range group therapy called "get herded, idiot", where you and everyone in your group is set loose to run around on an open field while a highly trained shepherd dog tries to keep you all in one group. I am not sure what benefit this would have for anyone involved.
This would fix everyone involved including the dog
If you like a Long Island Iced Tea, wait until you try the provocatively named Adios, Motherfucker. It’s fun, boozy and blue.
Found a recipe for it that's worded like electrochemistry wrote it
Update: this tastes like if a baha blast could kill you and annihilates any ongoing anxiety attacks
Update update: comparing this to a long island is like comparing a pickup truck to a tank

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(having a good week) that’s right. the goal is to increase my baseline. make the spirals shallower until they spin lazily on the surface of the water, lose their suction. im not trying to fix it all at once, im trying to incrementally improve my way into something tolerable. and once im there maybe i can shoot for good
(having a bad week) and in my terrible forge i will temper the flames of ruin
When you see a Prep in hottopic
“This Prep is ready for war bring it you emo fuck”
why are people reblogging this again
this post is like 11 years old
WHY AREYALL DOING THIS
We’re all having a midlife crisis leave us be
hey
fuck you LOL
I’m lying face down on the floor. Reblog to join.
my cat has a habit of meowing from other rooms when he wants me to go to that room and hangout with him (usually predetermined by which room currently has sun exposure)
lately though he’s made the frustrating development of climbing underneath furniture and then crying because I cannot join him. sorry buddy but I cannot go under the bed because unlike you I do Not Fit
photo of the baby uncomprehending why I won’t visit his very good fort
A 75 yo man proudly came into the cafe wearing an Ultra Maga hat. I excused my barista from the register to handle the transaction.
"The hat is customizable," he said, struggling with the velcro patch on the front. "If I need it, I have an ICE one too. I pick based off the business i walk into."
"Customizable is an important hat descriptor," I said. "what can I get you?"
"You wouldn't believe how offended people get these days," he said. "And I'm supposed to do something about it if you're offended? You chose to be offended!"
"We all have hundreds of thousands of decisions everyday," I said. I thickened my accent. "That's what my stepdad always said. But I can make one easier - we have a delicious Ethiopian roast available."
"Like if I told you you have a bull ring," he said, "because bulls have rings in their noses. Is that offensive?"
I laughed. "I've heard that before."
"It's a joke, but people get offended. Maybe you're offended."
I looked at him. I smiled. "You aren't trying to offend me though, right?"
Of course he was. I was being friendly and the friendlier I was, the faster he switched topics. He was saying anything inflammatory he could think of to see if I'd take the bait. After about 20 minutes of my redirecting and deescalating, he settled into a more normal interaction. He took up too much of my time showing me a product I'd feigned mild interest in to get him to stop talking about getting accused of inappropriate behavior at work. When we finally disengaged, he spent 10 minutes trying to catch my eye again. When he failed, he left.
There's this new breed of customer who insists on trying to incite political conversation through their clothing and, when that doesnt work, their snide little comments. If I owned my own business, maybe I would have given the guy the fight he wanted. But I work for a corporation and I love paying my bills so I deescalated.
Anyone wearing that type of shit and preying on workers for their own spank bank material is a brainless fucking sheep.
something i want to mention because i’ve seen it growing as a trend online is that not only do people do this just for their own gratification, but watch for glasses. smart glasses are a growing segment of the consumer market, and creeps like this are harassing people in public in order to gather content without the victims being aware they’re being filmed
good job on how you handled it, op!
Indeed, spotting Meta glasses in the wild just got harder in 2026.
They are no longer exclusively Ray-Bans.

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"How about getting us out of here?"
bonus:
curtain call
i recently had a thought. which, as you can imagine, was stressful
Demon Rearing by @beansmakesthings

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there is nothing lemon squeezy about any of this
We've had bodyswaps, but weve never seen Rumi's patterns follow her. Demon stuff ain't biological but what happens when she wakes up in Mira's body covered in patterns, when she covers herself exactly the same way she did in her own body and the other two are even more confused (if very releived) as to why upon realizing Rumi's body looks fine, no scars or any other signs. How badly would it fuck up Rumi to have proof they aren't only skin deep?
Oh, thinks Rumi, as she looks down at Mira’s long, perfect, delicate forearm, marred by twisted purple lines. So it isn't just the way she was born. She should've known. This taint is just her.
Mira thankfully has plenty of long sleeves in her closet; she runs cold. But of course, there are no high collars. Mira has such an elegant neck; there's no reason for her to hide it. Rumi has to rummage through the winter closet for a sufficiently light scarf. It's going to be a challenge in this heat.
It's okay. Rumi loves a challenge.
She's just finished covering everything when there’s a frantic knock on the door.
“Rumi,” her own voice says urgently. Fuck, that's weird. “Rumi? Are you in there? Are you okay?”
“I'm okay!” she calls in Mira’s lovely, luxurious voice. Fucking weird. But also nice. “You can come in.”
Rumi's body spills into the room, with Mira’s effortless feline grace. The relief is crystal clear in her own face. And then Rumi is being swept up and squeezed firmly in her own arms. It’s—kinda nice.
Rumi laughs. It sounds so good in Mira’s voice. “Hi. I'm okay. You okay?”
Mira nods against Rumi's neck, and Rumi feels an inappropriate surge of delight at being taller. “You run so fucking hot,” Mira grumbles, still holding on tight. “How are you not dying in these sleeves?”
Rumi takes a breath. The patterns are on her. They're in her. They're a mark of her inhumanity, her inherent corruption.
No matter her current form, they shouldn't be on Mira.
Rumi forces herself to laugh again. “Sorry. I guess I have weird temperature regulation. Wanna grab something from here?”
Mira lets her go with clear reluctance. Rumi feels guiltily gratified.
“You used to have normal summer shit too,” Mira complains as she raids her own closet.
“Yeah, I donated them, sorry.”
“Hm.” Mira shoots her an assessing look. “Can I..?” She gestures at herself.
“Oh! Yes, of course! Let me—should I turn around?”
Mira’s look turns condescending. “It’s your fucking body.”
Rumi makes herself laugh again. “Haha. Right.” She doesn't look away as Mira peels Rumi's sleep shirt off Rumi's body.
Except—it isn't. Rumi’s body. It has never looked like that, not ever. Smooth and clear and unmarked. Human, human, human.
So much more right, under Mira’s stewardship.
She wishes—
Never mind.
“That's better,” Mira says quietly as she pulls on a cropped top, and Rumi can't help privately agreeing.
Yeah. It is.