eugene

I kept forgetting my nighttime antidepressant so I set an alarm where the sound was a recording of me saying "HEY. TAKE YOUR FUCKING PILL" because I thought it would be funny. It was funny about three times, and then it started making me mad and I'd dismiss it right away to make it stop. So I handed my phone to my partner, who made another recording sweetly saying "Okay Shira, it's time to take your medication" and now I don't get mad anymore and I take my pill. The "compassion over punishment" camp has gotta get something wrong one of these days

the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13½ years now

And yet somehow this is my first time kicking it!

I hate you Ozempic craze I hate you 'heroin chic' I hate you weight loss ads on public radio I hate Burn Fat Fast ads every thirty seconds I hate you I hate you I hate you

I grew up before the term 'thigh gap' was invented I grew up before 'hip dip' was invented I was born before 'muffin top' was a thing before 'clean girl look' was a thing before 'glass skin' was a thing before razoring off peach fuzz was a thing and I'm so so so fucking tired of us inventing new concepts purely for the purpose of convincing people to hate their own bodies enough to buy products

Last time Tuberculosis ran through the USA a small number of people got it on purpose to look skinny and waifish and delicate and used makeup to look flushed and bony and when the Victorians figured out tapeworms people would infect themselves on purpose to starve themselves smaller and women and now in the year of our lord 2026 there is a noticeable fraction of the USAmerican population genuinely thrilled about a treatment-resistant microbial parasite that makes you shit and vomit your brains out for a month because side effects include weight loss and STILL we talk about being skinny like it's the natural default setting for all healthy people as if it's a self-sustaining standard and not an imaginary goal that we are constantly constantly constantly beating ourselves with a whip to acheive

next transformers continuity i want the autobots to accidentally out themselves to earth when they realize the probe they just shook the dust off of has cameras and one day NASA wakes up to find that opportunity rover's back online and the first thing it recorded was a giant robot saying "well, fuck"

Gentle Dad Bot just wanted to wipe off that poor abandoned rover. The first thing humanity sees of Optimus is this bigass robot lightly patting Opportunity and saying "There you go, all clean. Oh, it started working? Ratchet look, he's alive! :D"

this is so cute ówò

I'm love this

"Metal Jesus" - there has never been a better description of Optimus ever

@theotherguysride​

The little rover is so fragile, to a being who is used to the cold void of space, to the hostile radiations and dust clouds and ice storms between worlds. What’s curious about this little machine is that it’s *built*. A civilization prodding gently at the secrets of their own solar system. Optimus is *charmed and delighted* by the little thing, sending all it’s data back. Curious and gentle and it’s not really a *pet* so much as a companion. He speaks to it in its language all the time, as if it *is* a pet yes, but also. Optimus Prime is a politician and a master of diplomacy. He’s absolutely gleefully monitoring all the internet data traffic that he can get his servos on, about this little robot and the joy of the people who built it. This is his chance to be soft, and gentle with a fledgling species. To learn about them and their great history, no more than a single blink of Primus’ eye. The Autobots tend to think that Optimus is kind of strange sometimes, but they do indulge him because more often than not, he’s *correct* in his strange actions. And when they do make contact with Earth. It’s via that little robot and its friends, the ones they’ve plucked out of the dirt and ice, to be gently restored to functionality, their power sources rebuilt and their instruments retuned and their data transmission clearer than ever. And they sing the little robot happy birthday, because it’s tradition and because this little ambassador deserves to be honored. Hello, Earth, Optimus says, his voice deep and gentle as he kneels before the little thing. “We’re the Autobots, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” (It’s not gentle, there’s plenty of bullshit in politics, but Optimus understands the politics and the people and how the two are not the same. The politicians are offered cool professionalism. The public is offered their honesty and personality and joy.) Nasa, collectively, loses its shit. And Opportunity sings itself Happy Birthday to a deep chorus of voices raised in the same kind of giddy exploratory love as the people who built the little drone. (Someday, Opportunity and Curiosity will wobble their shaky way to their feet, beeping and squeaking and figuring out their voices, to say “I love you” to the people who have loved them first.)