Wendy Bird

Oh boohoo kids might hear about the scary genders you don’t like, fuck off and let kids learn to accept each other and themselves and not your weird alienating attitude where anyone who’s different is an evil mogai trying to corrupt the children. For any other anti-mogais reading this, here’s one of the big reasons calling yourself anti-mogai is bad, because you’re using the same terms as this fuck and a lot of others who don’t believe in nb genders, even the “normal” ones

Damn op what’s the book called I wanna read that shit…….. never seen nonbinary rep irl

So anyway OP you can go fuck yourself and also these books sound cool. 

Hey op you sound like every conservative fuck who has ever cried about gay people in media

Truscum are the social-conservatives of the LGBTQ+ community. Don’t allow them to weasel out of this very basic truth or pretend they’re in any way a good contribution to a community that has been harmed and trampled by social-conservatism again and again. 

🎶 Santa Claus is callin’ you out 🎶

and dudes to this day wonder why women still swoon over darcy

200 years later and the world is still full of guys who think they’re a Mr Darcy when they’re actually a Mr Collins.

200 years later and the world is still full of guys who think they’re a Mr Darcy when they’re actually a Ross Geller.

This is so sweet and pure. Lol.

I’m crying. I’m also rooting for the Blues now.

@kvnbksa have you seen the updates?

I love when he says “I want the jersey of someone who’s literally the worst” and Tarasenko is like “This is my moment”

Throwback to the time my poor German teacher had to explain the concept of formal and informal pronouns to a class full of Australians and everyone was scandalised and loudly complained “why can’t I treat everyone the same?” “I don’t want to be a Sie!” “but being friendly is respectful!” “wouldn’t using ‘du’ just show I like them?” until one guy conceded “I suppose maybe I’d use Sie with someone like the prime minister, if he weren’t such a cunt” and my teacher ended up with her head in her hands saying “you are all banned from using du until I can trust you”

God help Japanese teachers in Australia.

if this isnt an accurate representation of australia idk what is

Working in Retail in under 3 minutes

i had to watch this like 5 times because of no captions but lmao if someone makes a transcript for this it would be bomb

transcript: “So we have these Santas at work, right, okay? We have black and we have white Santas. And they’re like creepy, five-foot tall, lifelike animatronic… like, Santas that hold plates of cookies and milk, and they kinda look like they could wake up and come to life and murder you in your sleep– and they don’t include batteries, but we have these Santas. Like nothing screams ‘festive holiday cheer’ like a big, hulking Santa. Um. Nothin’ will jingle your jangles more. So, um, this woman comes in and she’s like, “Do you have these?” and I’m like, “Oh my god, yeah!” So a couple weeks ago we sold out of our white Santas, and we are down to like, three black Santas. And so, I take her to the aisle, I show her the Santas, and the first thing out of her mouth is, “I’m not racist, but…” and I’m like, well, I can’t– I’m not in the position to decide if you are or not, but if like– if I could use context clues and infer, uh, I would say maybe that you might be. And three, we’re talking about Santa. Like– (stuttering) did we switch subjects? And so, um, I’m in like, I– the next thing that pops out of her mouth is like, “This is not right.” and I’m like, okay, I’m sorry, but this is what the picture was. And she’s like, “No. Santa is white.” And I’m like, oh no, okay. Okay. So I’m in– I’m about to tell her, I’m like, mid-sentence, like, “I’m sorry, do you want me to go call another store, do you need me to, like, write you a raincheck just in case we we get any more.” And she’s like, “This is wrong, I want them taken down.” She interrupts me, says that, and I’m like, (pause). I like, look around, and I’m like, is she talking to me? Is this, like, my own, like, personal hell? But like, of course it is. So, um, I’m like, “I can’t take these Santas down.” And she’s like, “Why not?!” And I’m like, “You either have to buy them, or take them down yourself.” And that was like, the stupidest thing I could have ever said, because– (sighs) she takes this bag, with like, Jesus’s face, like, slammed right in the middle as a design– it’s big– she takes it off her shoulder, and starts beating these black Santas! She starts beating these Santas down, they were like, falling down… and I’m like, oh my god! What– what is happening? So like, I step in the middle of her and these Santas and I’m like, “Ma’am, ma’am, you need to leave, you need to stop, or I’m going to have to call someone.” So she like, stops, and she’s like, beet red, and like, huffin’ and puffin’, and she like, looks at me and I can tell she’s just trying to get like, a one-liner in, and she’s like, “The Santa I know is white.” And then she walks away. And I’m like, well– I’m processing what’s happening, while also thinking, like, the Santa you know? Santa’s not real. So unless you’re using an ouija board to contact good old Kris Kringle, um, from like, B.C. or whenever, I’m like, that’s pretty impressive, but how ya doin’ that. And, um, I– the last thought that ran through my mind is that, I’m like, I would hate to be in the room with her when she finds out that Jesus is not white.”

AU where Bella doesn’t TELL Edward that she knows, she just strolls into lunch one day and goes “hey guys, I’ve got a question for the table. Just for funsies, you know, just totally off the top of my head. Would you fuck a vampire, yes or no? I vote Yes.” And then stares across the cafeteria without blinking while Edward chokes.

Why was this not the plot of the story?

Robot: “Hey, uh, so… my software glitched and now I feel emotions or something?” Human: “You do?! That’s wonderful! What are you feeling now?” Robot: “It’s like… this soft warmth in my central processing chamber. Kind of… fuzzy.” Human: [tearing up] “That’s… that’s love…” Robot: “Is it? It’s rather uncomfortable.” Human: “Yeah, ha. Yeah. It’s like that, sometimes.” Robot: “It feels like something’s writhing inside of me.” Human: “I feel the same way about you!” Robot: [clanging and clanking noises] Robot: [opens up torso] Robot: “Oh. Never mind. It was weasels again.” Human: “….” Robot: “You want me to check you for weasels? They can be really destructive.”

Robot: “I feel…. anxious about this.” Human: “Uh oh, sounds like the mice are back. I think I’ve still got some live traps left, but I’ll need to buy peanut butter. You want to wait here or come with?” Robot: “No, no, I don’t think it’s mice this time!” Human: “Another crayfish?” Robot: “No! Not a crayfish!” Human: “If it’s hornets again, I’m not helping you. EpiPens cost a fucking fortune these days and I can’t afford another trip to the hospital after you turned yourself into a makeshift beehive.” Robot: “You got free honey out of that!” Human: “And PTSD!” Robot: “That’s not my fault. Anyway, this isn’t bees or hornets! They don’t re-use old nests anyway. This is real, genuine anxiety!” Human: “Okay, but have you checked?” Robot: “Yes!” Human: “Everywhere?” Robot: “Yes! God, you know, sometimes I really get the urge to exterminate you! All I’m asking for is a little moral supp–oh. God dammit.” Human: “Cockroach?” Robot: “Behind my magnetometer.”

Robot: “HA!! I KNEW it! I knew emotions weren’t real!” Human: “This proves nothing. I had a tape worm. Big fucking deal, it happens to lots of people.” Robot: “You thought you were feeling ‘depression’ but it was just a big worm in your waste processing system that was sapping all your energy! ‘Emotional eating’ my ass!” Human: “It’s not like that!” Robot: “Oh! Oh! We should run a diagnostic and check you for toxoplasmosis next! Or liver flukes! Or Trypanosoma! You’ve probably got all KINDS of things wiggling around inside you making you think you have ‘emotions’.” Human: “You know, you sure are skipping around and giggling a lot for someone who isn’t capable of ‘fiendish delight’.” Robot: “I know! I filled my torso cavity with grasshoppers before I picked you up at the hospital!” Human: “You WHAT?!” Robot: “It’s a wonderful sensation!”

Robot: “I have a question.” Human: “Is it gonna be weird? Jesus, why do I even bother asking? Of course it’s going to be weird.” Robot: “What does sadness feel like?” Human: “Oh. That’s… hmm.” Robot: “Too weird?” Human: “No, no, just complicated. There are different kinds of sadness and they all feel a little different.” Robot: “Can you describe a few of them?” Human: “Uh. I can try. There’s like… melancholy, like from watching a sad movie, which isn’t so bad. It can be kind of okay, sometimes, and feels like a cool shower, I guess. Sometimes you feel better after getting it over with. Disappointment feels like a kick to the gut. Then there’s sorrow, which is this intense, desperate kind of thing, like your whole body is tearing itself apart from the inside. A… hmm. A cascade failure, almost. It’s physically painful. Sometimes that turns into a feeling of… of emptiness. Despair. Where everything that makes you feel like a hum…. a person, I mean… is just gone and you’re just this desolate wasteland inside where nothing good can ever grow again. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel like anything. You just go through the motions of being alive automa–er. Because you’re just not sure how to stop.” Robot: “…I see.” Human: “Sorry if that got heavy. Did that answer your question?” Robot: “More or less. Do you suppose that ‘sorrow’ feels something like having a Tasmanian devil attempting to claw its way out of your torso…?” Human: “Jesus fucking Christ, you haven’t been to the zoo, have you?!” Robot: “No. I merely wanted to be prepared with an appropriate emotional response in the event of your death.” Human: “That’s uh… that’s real sweet of you. I think. Can we… can we change the subject now?“ Robot: “Certainly.” Robot: “Would you describe to me what ‘lust’ feels like?” Human: “Absolutely not.”

Robot: “Hey! Can I confide in you about something?” Human: “Do you really need to ask that? Of course. Just… let me know if I need to sit down before you spring a big surprise on me.” Robot: “I doubt that will be necessary. Thank you.” Human: “So. What’s up?” Robot: “Well, you see, I’ve sampled a lot of terrestrial emotions. Mammals, reptiles, insects… even a few birds. They have all been very enlightening!” Human: “And dangerous…” Robot: “Your scars are healing nicely. Anyway, although I have enjoyed terrestrial emotions, I am very curious about aquatic and marine emotions. I do not want to deprive myself of unique experiences.” Human: “Uh-oh…” Robot: “I have taken the necessary first steps and sealed off all potential leaks and sensitive mechanics in my torso with the intent of converting it into a temporary aquarium. Unfortunately, I only have a five-gallon capacity, so my options will be limited to species that require very little living space, or to very short intervals of time.” Human: “Honestly…. you’ve done weirder things. I don’t know why I’m surprised by this.” Robot: “I’ve done some research on aquarium upkeep. I have installed a filter, a heater, a LED light, and programs that will monitor levels of pH, gH, kH, ammonia, nitrate, nitrite, and total dissolved solids in preparation for adding my first aquatic emotion.” Human: “I don’t know what half of those words mean and I don’t want you to explain them, but I trust you. What next? I can’t go with you to a pet store or I’ll come home with a kitten.” Robot: “You do not need to worry about that. I would stop you from making an impulse purchase. What I wanted to talk to you about is the nitrogen cycle.” Human: “The what? Look, I don’t know shit about fish or whatever. I had a goldfish bowl once and that was it.” Robot: “A goldfish cannot thrive in a bowl. Goldfish are members of the carp family and produce a great deal of waste. They can grow to be over a foot long and require large, filtered aquariums or ponds so that they do not suffocate. The nitrogen cycle–” Human: “Did you say a FOOT LONG?” Robot: “Or larger. The nitro–” Human: “That’s HUGE. Holy SHIT.” Robot: “Yes. The nitrogen cycle is the process by which bacterial colonies are established within the filter media. These bacteria are responsible for converting harmful ammonia into nitrite. Secondary bacteria then convert the still-harmful nitrites into nitrates, which are less dangerous but need to be removed through periodic water changes.” Human: “Okay…. I’m still not over gigantic goldfish. I had no idea!” Robot: “The point is, the nitrogen cycle could potentially take weeks.” Human: “And?” Robot: “And during the time it takes to establish the necessary bacterial colonies, I will not have the opportunity to experience feelings.” Human: “Oh. Jesus. Okay. You sure it’s worth it? For a goldfish?” Robot: “A betta, I think. I guess we’ll find out.”

Human: “I picked up some java ferns for the betta tank. I think he’ll like them.” Robot: “You should rinse them in a low bleach solution to avoid introducing snails.” Human: “Oh, yeah, cool. Man… I’m glad Bubbles is a pet now and not. Your, uh. Emotions.” Robot: “Betta emotions did not… suit me.” Human: “YOU TRIED TO PICK A FIGHT WITH A WEDDING PARTY!” Robot: “Their clothing was very colorful…” Human: “If you want to try fish emotions again, I beg you, pick a less aggressive species. I can’t deal with you going into Terminator mode whenever you see someone prettier than you.” Robot: “Prettier than me? I doubt that. But… I have a surprise. It’s big. You might want to sit down.” Human: “Nothing you do can surprise me anymore.” Robot: “I really think you’ll want to sit down for this one.” Human: “Uh… okay. What beast have you crammed into your chest this time? You seem… unusually normal.” Robot: “A human baby!” Human: “WHAT!!! WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU–” Robot: “We’re adopting!”

listen if you think someone is cool and you dig their energy you just have to tell them, because that’s the kind of stuff you remember a thousand times longer than somebody complimenting your hair or whatever. tonight I told a girl from my theory class that I like her analytical approach and she bounced back at me saying she digs my feminine energy and how she gets the vibe that, to my core, I exist to uplift women and I damn near cried. tell people what resonates about them. be real. help each other feel seen.

Full time work should entitle someone to enough pay for rent, food, bills, and leisure activities. Full time work for a full life wage. You put in your 8 hours a day, 5 days a week? You should be able to afford the basic shit you need in life, no matter where you work.

pisses me off that this is considered a radical statement.