Will spaff about fandom on the regular, even if I'm not actually up-to-date with or even in said fandom. Also music, also pretty pictures, also sex positive. Useless at answering anything. Sorry about that...
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Omg now Iâm thinking about her slowly accumulating things for Isha rather than having a shower or smth. she sees like a cute baby band t-shirt and is like âoh i think she needs thisâ and vi, cait and ekko being the same way? I HAVE NO IDEA IF THIS MAKES SENSE BUT I HOPE YOU GET WHAT I MEAN LOL
and then sheâs trying to get organised before sheâs born and is like âwait when did i get this much stuff what the fuckâ
yES OMG this is exactly what happens!!! it's very slow unintentional hoarding
the whole time everyone is just offhandedly like 'aw that's cute i'll just grab this'. and then the eviction date is approaching and it's time to actually put everything away and there's physically not enough space for all of it
i feel like it has the same energy as a household not checking if someone already fed the cat. not checking if there are already too many stuffed animals in the house before bringing home another one
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âDear America, remember that astronaut we killed and had a really nice funeral for? Turns out heâs alive and we left him on Mars. Our bad. Sincerely, NASAâ
#when I was little my grandmother had a bottle of tiny Tabasco just like the one in the last picture #and I played with it like a doll. made clothes and hats and all kinds of things#for this tiny bottle of Tabasco
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man the public defender discourse pisses me off so bad. yeah. yeah I do think that every single person deserves representation. yeah that includes people who *have* committed rape and murder and abuse. when I say every single person I mean every single person. if your idea of justice excludes one person it excludes everyone. next question
âso youâre saying youâd represent someone who has admitted to sexual assault?â iâm saying I have.
âso youâre saying youâd represent someone who has admitted to domestic violence?â iâm saying i have.
"so youâre saying youâd represent someone who has admitted to child abuse?" i'm saying i have.
and i am saying i have given each and every one of those clients the same level of professionalism, effort, and zealous advocacy i have given my clients who are victims of the same. that is how due process works, and every person is guaranteed it.
i have nothing but respect and admiration for my colleagues in the public interest sector who represent those who have committed and/or been accused of any and all crimes, no matter how "morally reprehensible" others may find them.
public defenders are among the best, brightest, and most selfless attorneys out there. they are on the front lines of combating the carceral state and protecting the rights of every day people. get it straight in your heads. thanks.
hey if your response to this was âand hiring private attorneys and private attorneys agreeing to represent guilty people is evil!!â then not only did you miss the point but youâre like. five continents away from it.
did you know that in the phrase âif you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for youâ the operative term is cannot afford.
you have to apply to receive a public defender. you have to financially qualify (be below a certain income). many people are not eligible to receive public counsel because they make the minimum amount of money the government has determined to be enough to âaffordâ an attorney. those people either have to hire a private attorney or go without representation at all.
further, in proceedings where you donât have the right to an attorney (family court, civil court â including restraining orders, immigration court) your only option is a private attorney or to go unrepresented.
ID. OP image is a photo of someone reading two books at once. Visible is the outer cover of the Bible, which is edited to have the cover for "House of Leaves" by Mark Z. Danielewski. Propped up inside the book is a Minecraft manual which is much bigger than the other book and clearly visible.
Reblog image is screenshotted tags reading, "this is just a normal part of house of leaves. if youre reading it right." End ID.
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Iâd like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.
Iâve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps thatâs why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.
This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didnât want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.
Most of these were disastrous. Iâm not everyoneâs cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because theyâd seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.
But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.
Hereâs who was on the dating roster:
⢠An apprentice woodworker that weâll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasnât a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as âheteroflexibleâ and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.
⢠A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. Weâll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasnât part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancĂŠe an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if Iâd want to get serious.
⢠A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus Iâd ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We werenât terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.
And finally,
⢠My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.
So thatâs the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.
Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.
She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.
âDo you want it?â
âOh- I mean itâs lovely, I wouldnât mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!â
But she was adamant. Sheâd give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasnât happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot sheâd done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they werenât related by blood so it was fine.
So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasnât ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.
I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.
I was not prepared for Jillâs response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. Sheâd just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!
What about the table?!
âYou should keep the table, itâs gorgeous, youâll be able to sell it, but I donât expect a free table.â
Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.
There on my doorstep. The table.
It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didnât even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.
âI canât afford a $500 table, Jill!â I texted.
âWell you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.â
âIâm not saying itâs not worth $500â (it wasnât, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) âbut I canât buy a $500 table.â
âMake me an offer.â
I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, â$300.â I didnât think it was worth that much but I didnât want to insult her too badly.
This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that sheâd take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.
âLet me just give it back,â I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time Iâd asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still Iâd never been over.
I called up my beloved and said, âHey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?â
They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.
But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, âJill? Youâre home early,â through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.
âI was just bringing Jillâs stuff back!â I chirped in alarm.
With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jillâs collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jillâs number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.
It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.
So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.
I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!
Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. âNope,â she said, âbut good luck.â
Iâd rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and Iâd firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.
For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone Iâd dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.
Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.
It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, âAnd then this kiss showed up on my car.â
âDid you like it?â
âWhat? No! Iâm pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?â
My mom started bellowing with laughter. âI did!â She wheezed.
Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though sheâs never done anything like that previously.
âIt scared the crap out of me!â I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. âI thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!â
âHow could I have known youâd just broken up with three girls at once?â She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.
So thatâs how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.