DragonThing

biting can communicate so many emotions. angry? one big bite. affectionate? lots of little bites. sad? chewing on something thoughtfully. happy? many chomps. what isn’t there to love about it

on a completely unrelated note could the people I love move within 1-2 feet of me

“Media can be factually made with a child/family audience in mind” and “media for children/family audiences can be well made and engaging pieces of art” and “if you are an adult you should have a more diverse media diet than what exists to target an audience of primary middle and grade schoolers” and “it’s okay to watch a cartoon as an adult and enjoy it” can coexist.

sorry for the mixed signals I don’t know what I want or what I’m doing mostly

every so often i remember how awesome the modern interconnected multicultural world is. i grew up getting to hear fairy tales from all over the world. africa, asia, europe, america. everywhere in between. i can have bagels for breakfast, curry for lunch, and ramen for dinner without even leaving the city limits. music and art and philosophy and technology that originated thousands of miles and years apart from eachother have come together and interwoven into something greater than the sum of its parts. its hard not fall into despair when thinking about the horrors but god. god the wonders.

you can have friends on the other side of the planet! neither of you even has to travel!!!!! you can just talk to them whenever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

in retrospect this moment was absolutely pivotal to my butch awakening but it was also just a lesbian power move

we don't hate J.J. Abrams enough

When I was a little boy, girls used to just do random cartwheels for no reason. Then one day, they stopped. Now that I am a man, no women randomly do cartwheels. This is because society is evil and killed the cartwheel impulse in their soul. They don't even spin horizontally anymore. It's fucked up.

Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a “Lego winner” behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for “trophy”, he’d extrapolated a word for “thing you can win”. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, “Mummy? It’s not rubbish. It’s allowed to be a bottle.” - meaning, effectively, “I want this. Don’t throw it away.” But to an adult ear, there’s something quite lovely about “it’s allowed to be a bottle,” as if we’re acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.

Another good post to read for those writing small human characters. 

My son was about three when he came to me in the middle of the day and said, “Mommy, there’s a knight behind the bush.” I thought he meant a toy knight or something. So I follow him outside and he goes, “Listen. Do you hear it? It’s night behind the bush.” It was a cricket. A cricket was standing in the little patch of shade under the bush, chirping. So, my son saw this dark area with accompanying nighttime sounds and decided, okay, well, that is a night right there. Their brains are incredible.

My little bean knows she’s two, constantly saying proudly ‘I’m two!’ And the other day she saw this very frail old lady who looked one foot in the grave, pulled a face and said ‘oh shiiiit. She’s three.’ I almost screamed.

OH SHIT SHE’S THREE

the two year old bean is now 11, that’s how long this post has been going around, and I STILL bust out laughing like a maniac whenever I read ‘oh shiiiit. She’s three.’

ive taken to calling my sister bitch soup

This whole obsession with wheelchair users struggling on foot down the aisle at their wedding or across the stage for graduation is 100% powered by ableism.

“The heartwarming story of how one woman worked for 8 months straight so she could escape the horror that is being in wheelchair for a few short minutes to struggle slowly and painfully down the aisle on her special day.”

“the horror that is being in a wheelchair” bitch it’s hella better than struggling slowly & painfully down the aisle ffs

These types of stories teach people, both abled and disabled, that using mobility aids, especially wheelchairs, is inferior.

Who needs a bouquet when you can be a bouquet?

This post floated by a few months ago, and I remember something to effect of there’s a difference between recovery and refusal. That is, like, I have a friend that suffered an incomplete spinal cord injury. He can walk again now, and I don’t think I’ve seen him use his chair in a few years. When he walked at his graduation, it was to show off his recovery. That he wasn’t quite ready to go through a full day upright, but he could walk across a stage, unassisted, and soon he would be able to do that every day. There’s also a difference in someone like me choosing to not use a mobility aid. My mobility is intensely fluid, especially seasonally. So, I would plan a summer wedding. And while I love my cane it can also be the biggest pain in my ass, so I’d want to just go unassisted. But that’s normal for me, at least right now. I can walk without an aid during about half of the year. It’s reasonable to assume I can make it through one day without it. All of that is different than someone that is fully and permanently paralyzed, that will never walk again, dragging themselves along because they feel that’s somehow better. Overall though, my biggest takeaway is fuck the media. Because disabled people should be able to make whatever decision they want without the media turning it into this grand inspirational story.