Weary Wordsworth

New York empties out on holidays, so this little Dachshund had Madison Avenue at 30th Street all to himself. July 4, 1958.

A moth

This is not true for IGM (intersex genital mutilation) victims. When i say intersex infants and children are being mutilated, i am not disparaging bottom surgery- i mean that the intersex ""corrective"" surgeries performed against our will do not meet the same standards. They aren't something we choose, they're forced on us. Victims of IGM are often left with chronic pain, issues with genital function and sensation, poor aesthetic outcomes, and scarring (which affects both the visual appearance AND can cause functional issues). These surgeries are completely unnecessary and done largely at the doctor's discretion, often without the knowledge of parents (either because they were not told or they were fooled), and the victim is almost always deeply unhappy (and often dysphoric) as a result. Doctors get to decide to mutilate us, lie to our families, and then also mistreat and abuse us for the rest of our lives. Further, outside of the surgical procedures, growing up intersex means routinely going through violating and invasive "inspections" of your genitals by doctors. I can recall having doctors, nurses, and volunteers demand to see my genitals as a young child, touching and examining them without my consent- same for my breasts once i hit puberty. Just about every intersex person i know can say the same. It's routine and constant medical and sexual abuse from medical professionals.

I guess God wanted the little robot to enjoy some sushi 🍣 🥲

Venture outside with your ant buddies to forage scraps from an incomprehensible civilization of alien gods (each one several times larger than the city you've spent most of your life inside) for the glory of your GodMomEmpress

Get attacked by a platoon of soldiers from a rival megacity, they're an offshoot of your species except like twice as big (basically orks) and like 10% of them are genetically modified supersoldiers with wings

Luckily, you've been engineered from birth to spit acid so you and your antfriends successfully defeat the rival ants and their winged miniboss

See, the first time I grew parsnips, I fucked it up good. I hadn't seen parsnips sprouting before, right, and in my eagerness I was keeping a close eye on the row. And every time I saw some intruding grass coming up, I twitched it right out, and went back to anticipating the germination of my parsnips.

But it turns out parsnips take a bit longer than anything else I'd ever grown to distinguish themselves visually. It's just the two little split leaves, almost identical to a newly seeded bit of kentucky bluegrass when they first come up, and they take a good bit to establish themselves and spread out flat before the main stem with its first distinctive scallopy leaf gets going.

I didn't get any parsnips, not that year, because I'd weeded them all out as soon as they showed their faces, with my 'ugh no that's grass' twitchy horticulture finger.

The next year, having in retrospect come to suspect what had happened, I left the row alone and didn't weed anything until all the sprouts coming up had all had a bit to set in and show their colors, and I've grown lots of parsnips since. They're kind of a slow crop, not a huge return, but I like them and watching them grow and digging them up, and their papery little seeds in the second year, if you don't harvest one either on purpose or because you misjudged the frost, so it's worth it.