The Owl, Bat, Moth, Raven Bookstore: open 4pm-12am

And here are some of the links they provided:

https://www.supportlrc.app/

https://www.gofundme.com/f/prevent-suicides-due-to-poverty-and-unemployment

https://www.gofundme.com/f/medical-relief-to-lebanon

https://www.gofundme.com/f/hope-for-lebanon

https://www.gofundme.com/f/lebanonneedsorg

http://www.caritas.org.lb/get_involved/donate

https://beitelbaraka.net/donation/pay/

https://gogetfunding.com/beirut-emergency-relief/

https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/lebanon-relief

https://www.givingloop.org/offrejoie

https://www.gofundme.com/f/beirut-explosion-emergency-disaster-relief

I donated straight from the link in this post and it took less than a minute! Donate if you can, no one is forcing you to! There’s only a $1 minimum so if that’s all you can give, it still helps!!💘💘💘 @teamjacobthot thank you for the easy link!

the fact that most of the rest of the time he’s going around with his doublet unlaced to show his cute embroidered undershirt (i looked up if it had a specific name in tudor fashion and like it does it’s called a chemise which im used to meaning ‘women’s underwear’ for most of modern fashion history, and chemises don’t often have embroidery and embellishments because like, they’re not meant to be seen, altho it’s not uncommon for wealthier people)

he’s essentially wearing the equivalent of the unbottoned shirt to show a cute lacy bralette underneath

ALSO: they are always looking for volunteer time as a donation. They even list graphic design as something they need. If you’re an artist who wants to help, they may need something from you.

I grew up in one of the most stable, loving households I can imagine. I had tons of support from all three of my parents, I never felt alone, and I never felt confused about my parents relationship.

Were other people confused when I told them about my parents? Sure. Did it take some time for them to understand my parents relationship? Yep. And the reaction I got every single time from other kids once they understood? “That’s so awesome!”

Growing up in a poly house did not hurt me, confuse me, or make my life difficult. It sure as hell wasn’t abusive.

I’ve tried, tried, tried And I’ve tried even more  I’ve Cried, Cried, Cried And I can’t recall what for I’ve pressed, I’ve pushed, I’ve yelled, I’ve begged In hope of some success  But the inevitable fact is that It never will impress 

I’ve no more fucks to give,   My fucks have runneth dry,  I’ve tried to go fuck shopping  But there’s no fucks left to buy  I’ve no more fucks to give,  Though more fucks I’ve tried to get,  I’m over my fuck budget and I’m now in fucking debt 

I strive, strive, strive  To get everything done  I’ve played by all the rules But I’ve very rarely won, I’ve smiled, I’ve charmed, I’ve wooed I’ve laughed, Alas to no avail I’ve run round like a moron, To unequivocally fail!

I’ve no more fucks to give, My fuck fuse has just blown, I’ve been hunting for my fucks all day, But they’ve upped and fucked off home, I’ve no more fucks to give, My fuck rations are depleted, I’ve rallied my fuck army but It’s been fucking defeated! 

The effort has just not been worth The time or the expense I’ve exhausted all my energy  For minimal recompense The complete lack of acknowledgement  Has now begun to gall And I’ve come to realise that I  Don’t give a fuck at all!

I’ve no more fucks to give, My fucks have flown away, My fucks are now so fucked off They’ve refused to fucking stay! I’ve no more fucks to give, My fucks have gone insane They’ve come back round and passed me While they’re fucking off again!

I’ve no more fucks to give, My fucks have all dissolved, I’ve planned many projects But my fucks won’t be involved! I’ve no more fucks to give, My fucks have all been spent, They’ve fucked off from the building And I don’t know where they went! 

There is also a “family friendly” version that he plays at festivals. 

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

All the other kids have one teacher, while I had two, though I was in the same class. I took recess by myself. When the other’s took recess, I was constantly quizzed by my second teacher and shown how to color properly because ‘You don’t want your pictures to look like theirs, do you?’ I just wanted to color. 

When I was allowed to participate with the rest of the class, I felt odd. “How fast does the earth move?” The main teacher asked. “100 miles an hour!” “One bajillion miles a hour!” I raised my hand. “Yes?” I swallowed and smiled. “I think it’s closer to 100,000 kilometers per hour.” I didn’t guess, I stated a fact. I was happy. And proud. Because I knew the answer. But somehow, when the teacher said ‘That’s correct’, it was with a large amount of disappointment and odd looks from the other kids. What had I done wrong? I didn’t answer questions anymore.

When I was in the class with my second teacher, we did reading flash cards. “What does this say?” “Government.” She frowned. “And just how do you know that?” I answered as simply as I could. “It doesn’t sound like it’s spelled. It has ‘Govern’ like the governor, and it has ‘ment’ that rhymes vent which is what’s above us! Government!” “That’s not how you learn words, you need to remember how to spell them. Try the next one.” Why did it matter? I remembered and could read it. So I had to learn the ‘correct’ way to spell and read.

So on and so on until 5th grade, when I was falling behind all the other students and was told to try harder and pay attention. ‘Show your work or it counts against you.’ But I didn’t have any work to show… 45 X 3 just is 135. What work was I supposed to show when something was a fact? So I had to relearn math so my teacher didn’t flunk me out.

This has followed me into adulthood. “Think outside the box.” I can’t. There is a small area outside the box I am allowed and no further. That is what I have been taught. When someone wants something from you in this way, they want to know where it came from and for it to match their ideals… not something they can’t understand or want to consider. And there is always a right answer, even if you are just coming up with ideas.

“Do you have any ideas on this matter?” My boss asks. I shrug. “It’s not something for me weigh in on, that’s beyond my area.”