given the current climate this pride especially i feel i must mention that i love my trans friends, i stand with trans people in the fight against transphobic legislation and those who would enforce it, and this blog is not a good place for you to be if you do not vibe with that

i've been phasing the phrase 'google it' out of my vocabulary and going back to 'look it up'. fuck you youve lost your generic trademark privileges

>be me >22 year old baby trans in the Most Serene Republic of Greater Caliphornia, year of our lord 2069 >no talents or skills aside from a mastery of the Hissatsu Ougi >(my parents were transphobic ninjas) >like not to brag but I am so unbelievably good at stabbing people >doesn’t exactly qualify me for a desk job tho >too many brain problems for UBI qualifications >wtf the U stands for ‘universal’ how do I not qualify for something universal >whatever fine >try to become a hit(wo)man for los Norteños, they kick me out once they learn I’m actually filipina >(yes my parents were filipino ninjas don’t worry about it) >run into middle-aged academic lady named Maria who’s apparently a big name with the Poaster’s Guild >somehow charm her with my complete lack of skills, charisma, and/or personal hygiene >she says I should join the Westphalian Polycule of Seattle >I do >grad school TA milfs dress me up while I ramble about swords >I’m in heaven >until some lady starts asking me questions about some shit I don’t know anything about >wait this isn’t swords >panic >”uhh… sure?” >”hmm I see interesting” >next day people start acting colder to me >what >ask Maria wtf is going on >apparently I got tricked into taking a stance on some contentious discourse topic and now everyone’s saying I’m a crypto-nobunaguista >said it was probably Vycky, apparently she’s jealous of the attention I’ve been getting >bump into Vycky later that day >instincts kick in >stab her >wait shit oh shit shit shit that wasn’t Vycky >I can’t just stab some random girl and then leave tho, that would send the totally wrong message >and also morally wrong or whatever >drop random girl off at the hospital >fucking. Vycky is there in the hospital lobby >too many witnesses around >I decide that the only rational response to this chain of events is to leave the Westphalian Polycule of Seattle without saying a word to anyone >and steal a bunch of estrogen on my way out >ontheroadagain.VR

>start heading across the Rockies to begin my life anew on the other side >immediately accosted by Mormons >stab them >finally make it across the fuckign Rockies >immediately accosted by Sovereign Citizen ranchers >stab them >not gonna lie it’s actually kinda nice being in an environment where stabbing people is an acceptable response to most conflicts >except I’m starting to run low on estrogen >pretty sure that’s one problem I can’t solve with stabbing >and I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere >and I have to keep walking east because there’s a trail of dead bodies behind me >which is why I’m now in fuxking DENVER >and I’m legit out of estrogen >drowning my sorrows in some shithole bar >”what’s got you down stranger?” >look up >buff cowgirl milf is talking to me >this is not a drill a buff cowgirl milf is talking to me >ougis start spilling out of my pockets >take my chances and ask her if she knows anywhere I could get my hands on some estrogen >”I’m Wendy Saints, I can get anything!” >who >”Wendy Saints, the best scavenger the midwest autonomous zone has ever seen, I’ve explored every inch between the rockies and the ole mississip” >sorry but I’ve never heard of you >”oh” >(ok cool I immediately killed any chance I had w/ her. like I said I’m only good at killing things) >she says she was actually in the market for an extra pair of hands, she’s planning a big scavenge job at an abandoned mall not far from here >none of the locals will touch it cause they think it’s haunted >the aforementioned locals are a bunch of neo-feudal types, they’ve already established a new religion where they worship the founding fathers as god-kings >c’mon people it’s been thirty years tops. literally there are still people who were alive when the USA still existed you don’t gotta be like this >whatever, not my circus not my monkeys >I accompany Wendy Saints to the abandoned mall >there’s some old pre-crisis security bots that are somehow still functioning >they mistake us for homeless loiterers and accost us >take a wild guess how I respond >(I stab them) >Wendy makes a beeline for the mechanical room >starts taking apart the copper tubing and HVAC motors with the speed and skill of a thousand crackheads >ok damn I guess she is really good at this >help her haul the parts into her RV >”thanks anon you were a big help” >more ougis spill out of my pockets >random van pulls into the parking lot >bigass tie-dye wizard spray painted on the side >reach for the hilt of my sword >Wendy’s like “don’t worry, these guys are friendly” >pair of burly mad max types hop out of the van >”we’re Liquor & Gusto, and we’re here to pump you up” >yes okay we’re all a bunch of droll characters. wtf are you doing here >one of them takes out a bigass bottle of pills >bottle has ”GRRL PILLZ” written on it with a marker >look inside >estradiol >tell them I just have tenbux worth of itunes gift cards left >Wendy says not to worry about it, consider it her payment for helping >bless you kind stranger >I thought it might be the start of a beautiful friendship but she said her heart is in a throuple with the open road and the thrill of the hunt >whoa hey hang on I didn’t say it needed to be a romantic thing >I mean okay I did make a drunken pass at you >three times >ontheroadagain.hologram

>follow the I-70 Pilgrimage Trail east >”hey punk this is Clown Princes territory, if you ain’t down with the Dark Carnival then you gotta-” >stab stab stab >keep traveling >running low on estrogen >oh joy I’ve made it to fucking TOPEKA >find the nearest bar >there’s a creepy girl sitting in the corner and everyone else is leaving her alone >she’s got one of those smiles. y’know. one of *those* smiles >she comes up to me >”you don’t know it yet, but you’ve found your home. come with me.” >sure. I don’t have anything else going on and if it gets too weird I will definitely know how to handle that situation >(stabbing. I will handle it with stabbing) >she takes me to an abandoned neighborhood a few miles away >it’s a giant flophouse full of trans girls >”welcome to the temple of cybele we’re a sacred order of” blah blah gimme the goddamn estrogen >apparently they need to ‘induct’ me first >ok fine whatever >they lead me to the cul-de-sac >some tall lady comes out wearing weird robes and holding a staff >she’s got a fucning. horse. with her >apparently she’s the ‘high shaman’ in charge of the place >she gives some kind of speech, I wasn’t really listening >and then everything goes silent and she slits the horse’s throat >I say “aww horsey :(“ out loud with my mouth >(listen I am aware of the irony. you don’t need to point out the irony im aware ive killed like thirty people so far but this was an INNOCENT HORSE) >everyone stares at me like that one meme. you know the one >high shaman cuts open the horse’s body and takes out a bigass horse fetus??? >some other people take the fetus and haul it off to a shack >high shaman’s lackeys explain that that’s how they make estrogen, it’s apparently easy to extract it from horse fetuses >they also say that it’s really important that I never ever interrupt the ritual ever again no matter what >I say “ok fine sure” as if I’m talking to people who aren’t covered in bits of horse cervix >then we play mario kart >eat bean soup with horse meat, it’s actually pretty good >successfully inject jank horse estrogen without dying >all the bitches love my killing sword techniques >for once I think I’m actually fitting in and feeling good  >a month passes >time for the ritual again >”aww horsey :(“ >I am forcibly removed from the flophouse cult >ontheroadagain.semiconductor

>traveling down the I-70 Pilgrimage Route again >there’s a commotion on the side of the road, bunch of cars parked >people standing around with guns drawn and >wait >is that fucking Wendy Saints >yep that’s Wendy Saints cornered with her hands up >they finally notice me >”stay outta this. this doesn’t concern you.” >Wendy recognizes me and gives me a desperate smile >no idea what’s going on >idgaf, Wendy basically saved my life that one time and I get to return the favor >by stabbing people >Heavenly Ougi「Sundering Wheel of Fate」 >effortlessly slay a dozen goons >”thank you so much omg you saved my life” >hnggggg a buff cowgirl milf is smiling at me and thanking me >I’m still standing in the middle of a pile of corpses >brain starts to shut down >c’mon. this is your chance. you can do this >wrack my brain to come up with a cool one-liner >”y-you too”

I need to stop replying to “how do you make friends in your 30s?” threads because all my answers boil down to “you have to want to know people instead of have friends” and I don’t think people wanna hear that

It’s like. People can tell if you don’t really like or connect with them. If you aren’t truly enamored with someone you will have a hard time coming up with activities to do together to deepen the friendship. Because you don’t really like that person that much.

this is my favorite comic ever i never don’t want to see it on my dash

phineas and ferb heritage post