the armor falls

Seven Steps to the Perfect Story

The dude got arrested once before this for using a painter’s extension rod to point the stoplight cameras into the sky instead of cutting the wires. He didn’t cut the wires until AFTER he got out after being arrested the first time–which he did after posting facebook videos that prove that the stoplights are intentionally rigged to trick drivers into citations–the yellow lights at intersections with cameras only last THREE SECONDS, as opposed to the five seconds they last at other stoplights without cameras in the same county.

When he cut the camera cords, he reported his deeds to the news -himself,- and then politicians pressured the local police force into arresting him. The local police and sheriff deputies actually SUPPORT him for his actions because the lights have been killing innocent people! During his most recent arrest, one of the Sheriff’s Deputies actually -offered to bail him out-. When he got home again after these incidents, there was a surveillance camera planted at his house BY THE GOVERNMENT to watch him! His reaction to being surveilled? He painted over the camera in America’s flat out fucking ballsiest “fuck you” to the gubmint I’ve ever heard of. And it gets EVEN CRAZIER. After painting over the camera, suddenly this guy–his name is Stephen Ruth by the way–started GETTING ATTEMPTS ON HIS LIFE. He reports that a car intentionally tried to hit him in a head-on collision, and after talking about the car to his neighbors, they confirmed that the car in question (Or at least, one that was visibly identical, its occupants included) had been staking out his house! Somebody was legitimately trying to MURDER HIM over his discovery and his actions!

“Okay, as soon as you finish this assignment you can take a little nap.”

“You just cleaned your room, good job!”

Millions around the world took part in a global climate strike, all following the lead of 16-year-old Greta Thunberg. 

The Swedish teenager spoke to Kelly Cobiella before she sailed to New York City. 

When I was young, I really enjoyed reading (still do). The municipal library had a section for “underage” readers (books for children and young readers up to 16) and a separate one for adults (not restricted to “adult” books, but everything not especially written for children). The usual division was you’d get a yellow library pass for the children’s section or a grey one for the adult section (which included access to the children’s section), with separate entrances for the sections.

"I am Ophelia, owner of this once great magic shop, before the dark king set out to enslave all the cats in the land, turning them into soulless minions. My partner Bethany and I were standing aimlessly in our foyer when we heard the first screams, and we went out to find our village on fire and a hundred zombified felines descending upon us, green glittering eyes lighting up the night."

"My dearly beloved tried to hold them back, but he had used too much of his magic that day in enchanting pointless trinkets for brave adventurers, and was quickly overwhelmed. He bade me to hide in yonder chest and for three days I stayed, with only my writing for company, wondering if the yowling would ever stop, wondering if I would ever see my beloved Bethany again."

"I have hope that he is still out there somewhere, healing cat scratches and freeing innocent feline souls from the dark king's wicked enchantment."

"As you can see, the zombie cats consumed every magical item here, and without my beloved I haven't the heart to find another livelihood. All that remains are the magic gems on my mantle, but beware, dear travelers, for those belonged to my mother's mother, a great black mage whose ashes reside still in this house. I know not what powers they possess, but I do know that she was unfond of greedy thieves masquerading as adventurers, going about stealing from innocent villagers."

Wool was a huge industry in Europe in the middle ages. It was hugely in demand, particularly broadcloth, and was a valuable trade good. A great deal of wool was owned by monasteries and landed gentry who owned the land. 

And, well, the only way to spin wool into yarn to make broadcloth was by hand. 

This was viewed as a feminine occupation, and below the dignity of the monks and male gentry that largely ran the trade. 

So what did they do?

They hired women to spin it. And, turns out, this was a stable job that paid very well. Well enough that it was one of the few viable economic options considered ‘respectable’ outside of marriage for a woman. A spinster could earn quite a tidy salary for her art, and maintain full control over her own money, no husband required. 

So, naturally, women who had little interest in marriage or men? Grabbed this opportunity with both hands and ran with it. Of course, most people didn’t get this, because All Women Want Is Husbands, Right?

So when people say ‘spinster’ as in ‘spinster aunt’, they are TRYING to conjure up an image of a little old lady who is lonely and bitter.