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cherry valley forever
AnasAbdin


JVL
dirt enthusiast

#extradirty
Claire Keane
Three Goblin Art


❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Janaina Medeiros
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
macklin celebrini has autism
d e v o n
Keni
🪼

PR's Tumblrdome
styofa doing anything
Mike Driver

if i look back, i am lost
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@mogseltof
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"Dunk"
the desire to pretend white women are simply always victims and groomed into fascist movements instead of being willing participants is by design, u have been taught ur entire life that white women are dainty angels that have to be lead and protected and no harm they do is fault of their own, thats why u think literal nazi women are just confused harmless babies, it’s designed that way on purpose
I love your "they ring the same bells for weddings and funerals" tag bc I work as a bell-ringer at one of the few churches in my city where you still have to ring the bell manually. and we do ring the same bell whether it's a wedding or a funeral! but ☝️ we also ring it if the local sports team wins at sports (the secret third thing that is neither a wedding nor a funeral)
the three universal human experiences: love, death, and sports
Do you ever write a sentence and then realize “Nah, that’s too self aware for you” and backspace a bunch of times.
[ID: tumblr tags reading: *has character development* Woah (all caps)!!! not yet pal /end ID]

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"It doesn't help your credibility to exaggerate, most employers wouldn't literally work you to death" like, I used to work in distribution. If booking a truck driver for back to back shifts until they fall asleep at the wheel, crash, and die counts as being worked to death, I have personally met employers who've worked employees to death and gotten away with a slap on the wrist. It may not be universal, but it's a hell of a lot more common than a lot of us would prefer to think.
Death by spreadsheet is an acceptable degree of separation for most in middle management. They can sleep at night without guilt for what they've done, because the system charitably setup twelve degrees of separation between their choices and the real-world harm. But do not be fooled, their choices set that harm into motion. Without their reckless disregard for human life, the harm would not be done.
I used to work at a TV station in Ohio. On weekends, we only had an 11pm news broadcast. Not much happened on weekends, ya know? I worked Monday-Friday 9-5, but someone on the weekend shift quit, so I also had to come in at 9pm on Sat/Sun to work the 11pm news. It was brutal. I worked seven days a week, even if two of them were ~3hrs.
This was a particularly bad winter. One Saturday, we had a level 2 snow emergency: That means you should only travel if you absolutely must. Like, it's not uncommon for cops to pull you over in level 2 emergencies to ask where you're going and why. It is genuinely dangerous to drive in that much snow.
I told my boss as much, how I almost crashed on the way home at 12:30am after a news broadcast. I told him I would need to call off if there were a snow emergency again during a night snow.
He told me, point blank, "If you ever call me about the goddamn snow, I will take it as a call of resignation."
And that was that! The very next Saturday, snow fell again. It was a level 2, but would become level 3 by sunup. Level 3 means driving is literally illegal except for ambulances and snow plows. I stared out the window, watching the snow, and I had to make a choice.
"Will I die for this? Will I kill myself to keep this job?" I made $11/hr.
Yes, managers work you to death. That's their job.
Every single labor protection is written in the blood of those who were literally worked to death, and business owners and profiteers would claw those protections back with glee if they could. They will squeeze every red cent from your body if they are allowed, and write off your death for an insurance payout that they'll try to pocket for themselves while hiring your replacement for half the pay they gave to you.
I cant go to my local libary anymore because last year when I stopped by a librarian was reading a book I wrote under a pen name years ago. This book sold under 10k copies and I've literally only heard people talk about this book online *if* I went looking for it so I went up to them and tried to start a conversation like "oh hey I've heard of that book is it good?" Like hoping for some real feedback and she goes "yeah I love reading things by queer writers" and in a moment of terror I was like "oh but- hold on, I thought the author was some old hetero white guy?!" A thing I thought because I used my own dead grandpa's picture for the author pic because grandpa never had internet. I fake looked it up and was like "yeah if he was queer its not public?" And without looking up this absolute unit goes "oh the author bio is obviously fake. I'd bet my left leg the author is a west coast millennial non-binary queer who has never lived on the east coast." And then proceeded to rattle off a dozen linguistic flourishes that are specfic to the pacific northwest that are in the book and several that are nearly ubiquitous in the state where I said my pen name lives that are somehow completely absent from the book.
So you know. Got read for fifth and didn't even find out if she liked it.
this is how all high protein dessert vids look to me
They should invent a glasses that you can lay on your side in bed wearing
i know it's completely antithetical to microsoft's like company ethos or whatever, but would it kill their software to work every now and then?

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just saw a pigeon doing the puffed up courtship dance thing to another pigeon, and as he was strutting around he suddenly stopped for a split second to do a very brief preen-peck at his own side, then returned to the strutting around. and i surprised myself by instantly losing respect for the male pigeon in that moment, like come on man i appreciate you had an itch or whatever but how is she supposed to feel special when you're getting distracted by bullshit like that? which on reflection i don't endorse, i mean those are pretty harsh dating norms i'm imposing on these pigeons, from a total outsider perspective, for no reason. probably not all girl pigeons are as uptight about that sort of thing as i would apparently be if i was a girl pigeon, maybe she even found it endearing who knows, i don't know her. it's none of my business really. sorry pigeons.
You just teleported to the last movie you watched! how is it going?
good
bad
great
awful
FUCK YOU I'M IN THE BACKROOMS NOW
dead
results
anyway sound off. at what stage do ppl think Han figured out the Force was real. the boring answer is after seeing Obi-wan vanish but i think he could rationalise that away as his eyes playing tricks on him. what do we think.
Let me demonstrate my answer for you:
That's it. That's my answer. Endor.
Please just take a look at Han's face right after witnessing 3po float. The man just had his entire worldview blown to smithereens.
that's so funny. that means he accepted Vader deflecting a blaster bolt with his hand as just something freaky government cyborgs can do, and stuck by Luke for multiple years as he tried to figure this Force stuff out, and just treated it like your friend getting really really into neopaganism to cope with a loss.
like yeah kid good job with the witching. i'm certain it will be more useful against your enemies than your sharpshooting. no i do not think your witchcraft is supplementing your aim but i'm not gonna argue about it.
yeah Luke was like 'I heard Ben Kenobi's voice in my head telling me how to blow up the Death Star :)' and Han was like 'kind of an unusual coping mechanism but I'm not gonna argue with him'
thanks to carbonite han not only misses learning about luke's training montage on dagobah, he's also half-blind during their whole escape on tatooine. luke's out there force-kicking henchmen with his gucci boots and doing flips and shit and han can't see a goddamn thing. now on endor luke's yeeting threepio with the power of his mind and han's just like 'the last time we hung out i had to stuff him in a tauntaun sleeping bag'.
@softness-and-shattering I hate you I hate you I hate you
(stumbling out of the document covered in blood) ok i wrote 100 words
STOP SCROLLING
Your life ends in the wasteland.
there’s a japanese radish just below this post but you can’t reach it

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The writer's barely plausible alibi.
#i think this is that thing where 19th century authors had to contrive a series of events for the manuscript to “appear” in their possession #complete with justifiable narrator and with total disregard for the rest of ways the rest of the text break reality #“yes it is entirely possible that a guy was briefly in another world and made it back here to give me his journal before leaving entirely” #“don't think too hard about it” (via @flameintheblacknight)
Say what you will about 19th Century literary critics' inexplicable hate-boner for the third-person omniscient perspective, but the lengths that 19th Century authors often went to in order to avoid getting CinemaSins dinged for failing to adequately contextualise how the narrator could possibly know all this are frequently the funniest stuff I've ever read.
Victorian-style story with two narrators who appear to be physically present but nobody else acknowledges them, nor do they appear to be aware of each other, and then they're eventually revealed to be an angel and a demon who were trying to invisibly watch and/or interfere with the events of the story. When they finally do notice each other, their ensuing scuffles as they try to sabotage each other nearly cause them to miss important plot points.
I had a dream that I got placed into the body of an old scrawny Italian man, and it was surprisingly gratifying. is waluigi a transition goal???
do I want to be with him? or do I want to be him?