Bottle green details: Rolling Waves. Painter: Constantin Westchiloff (1877-1945).

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Bottle green details: Rolling Waves. Painter: Constantin Westchiloff (1877-1945).

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choose your secret technique
Catgirl Breaks the Stock Market
Forbidden Foxgirl’s Wile: Infinite Hell Money Tax Evasion Scheme
Shrikegirl’s Garden Invitation
Oracular Hoggirl Understanding: How the Sausage Gets Made
Self-Wielding Living Swordgirl Stance
Thousandfold Slimegirl Elixir Crucible
Sometimes Horsegirls Fly Approach
Heaven-Sweeping Broom Flourish
Puppygirl Mischief Paws
Adorable Princess Edict: Off With God’s Head
Perdurant Ocelotgirl Existence
Easygoing Capybaragirl Lifestyle
yall i swear to god if a bitch says her pronouns are she/her then her pronouns are she/her
my close friend from uni was a cis girl who had the audacity to wear pants and cut her hair short and like nobody at this school, a place OBSESSED with ‘respecting everyone’s gender identities,’ would call her ‘she.’ after MONTHS of this she started wearing a fucking pronoun pin to work and i dont even think that fixed it. me, im sorta androgynous; i have shaggy self-cut hair and go by a neutral name, but i always say my pronouns are she/her, and people ive worked with for months and have introduced myself in front of fifty times will STILL reflexively say ‘they’ for me. i respect the progressive circles i run in, but this IS evidence of misogyny. people’s definition of “woman” or “girl” is so narrow and high-maintenance that even the tiniest deviation from the norm gets you forcibly defeminized. but it’s a compliment, right? like who would wanna be a girl anyway?
replacing an inescapable gender binary with an equally-inescapable gender trinary is stupid 🩷
Mouse, aged 3.5, has been requesting The Book Of the Earthworm as their toilet book, although I abridge it as I read aloud - maintaining interest and speeding the process up. This was summarised as “earthworms are slimy,”
“WHAT,” barked an outraged Mouse.
“earthworms are slimy.”
“Earthworms NOT slimy,” Mouse said carefully.
“If you touch one, you’ll find they are slimy.”
“Mummy,” Mouse said, needing some clarity, and betraying a faint concern; “earthworms is turn into pepperoni?”
“What?”
“Earthworms is salami? If you touching an earthworm, and it is turn into pepperoni?”
“Oh,” I said. “No. No. Slimy. Not salami.”
There’s probably an interesting linguistic thing happening here. Mouse knows perfectly well that salami and pepperoni are different but similar. They come in the same sort packet, packaged in the same way, have similar texture, are interchangeable on crackers, and so on. Mouse clearly has a testable schema for “cured meats”.
So, collecting this knowledge:
Sometimes a mouse can hear things wrong, or somethings a word has two meanings, like chicken (bird) and chicken (meat), or knight (fighter) and night (time).
Pepperoni and salami are similar
If earthworms are salami, they must be enough like pepperoni for Mummy to understand what Mouse means by it
This is distressing, and doesn’t sound RIGHT, but it’s sensible enough to question further (salami DOES have some earthworm-ish qualities)
Armed with all that, Mouse came up with a little test
But chicken (bird) and chicken (meat) very much are the same thing???
Well, true! And Mouse does know that - they’ve grown up with pet chickens, and eat quite a lot of chicken meat. Their other favourite toilet book, the New Complete Guide to Self-Sufficiency, contains fascinating diagrams for killing and dismembering a chicken (bird) to make chicken (meat).
But what I’m getting at here is the Mouse-ear soundscape of the world. When grownups are blathering on and the word “chicken” floats past, you have to scramble to work out if they mean your pet or the food.
It’s okay to attack your meat with a knife and fork, but not okay to attack your pet, even if they are the same word. You are not allowed to put ketchup on the “pet” category of chicken, even though it is THE SAME. You can put both things in the compost when finished, but only one event is Death and therefore Sad, and the other is Mouse Why Did You Do That To Your Dinner; Now We Can Only Feed It To the Earthworms. When your chickens die, they don’t come back, but the chicken you didn’t eat at dinner mysteriously presents itself again as lunch. Chicken is food, but not “chicken food”, which is apparently the pellets you feed to chickens. (Despite sounding very similar, chicken pellets and chicken nuggets are not the same thing at all.) Chickens quite like eating chicken meat; it’s impolite for humans to bite pets. Eat your chicken / be gentle with your chicken. Okay, you can play with your chickens / Don’t play with your food. Sometimes chicken is a pet, sometimes food, sometimes cowardice, sometimes an abstracted flavour of instant noodle. Yes, they’re the same thing, but they’re not the same THING - Mouse is three and sees right through that argument.
The world is terribly complex, and often seemingly hypocritical; and learning other complex things at the same time - English; decorum - is a bewildering task.
what’s cute to me is that Mouse recognises the same spoken word can have different contexts and meanings. mouse was checking a few things at once; testing if they’d misheard; testing if “salami” has multiple meanings and nuances that they don’t understand yet; testing if earthworms are connected to salami (and by what process does this alchemy occur? The mental picture is immediate and worrisome.) I loved their method of politely checking out the possibilities!
I should be used this, growing up as I did in the Cold War and expecting nuclear armageddon and subsequent global fallout winter, but the constant existential angst is really gnawing at me.
So many plots this year are showing sudden step changes:
it has been really interesting growing up at the tail end of the Fucking Around Epoch and then transitioning into the Age of Finding Out immediately afterwards. i cannot tell you how much they yelled at us in the 1990s that this was going to happen. possibly the most-telegraphed world catastrophe in human history

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[Image: First image is Anthy in her Rose Bride dress, bangs covering her eyes as she frowns. Second image is Miki playing the song he wrote. Third is Saionji practicing kendo with Touga in the background. Fourth is Juri gasping while clutching at her chest where she keeps her locket. Fifth is Nanami, spying on Touga as he embraces a girl. Sixth is a young Touga, letting a young Utena’s hair run through his fingers. Seventh is Anthy’s pained expression as she is impaled by swords. Eighth is Utena, desperately pulling open the coffin with her beaten and bloody hands. Final image is a thin beam of light falling on Anthy inside the coffin.
Text: We had given up all hope, and were casting about for other things to give up: dreams, aspirations, and then, digging further, anticipated muscle pains, pre-grief for loss that hadn’t happened yet, post-grief for losses long ago, and further still, until we were ready to give up that shifting, shivery spark that is our human heart itself. But then…but then…!]
Text originally from WtNV episode 52 “The Retirement of Pamela Winchell”.
if you want to lose weight, it's always assumed it's because you want to be skinny
if you want to exercise more, it's always assumed it's because you want to be skinny
if you want to eat better, it's always assumed it's because you want to be skinny
and so all information, advice, encouragement, and resources for these things is relegated to only being about this one singular goal. they don't tell you that building muscle while fat will help ease joint pains because your body can better support you, or that eating nutritiously will help your body have more energy and work more efficiently, or that working to maintain a steady weight, both up and down, will reduce stress on your organs. nope, it's all skinny skinny skinny skinny you wanna be skinny dont you wanna be skinny ooooo skinny
people dont realize that keeping strong and healthy muscles is genuinely important for long term health because of the fatphobic workout industry.
like a lot of the time the reason chronically ill people gradually experience worsening symptoms and pain is because theyre unable to move their bodies without limitation or agony. the loss of muscular tissue as a result of illness should be cause for serious concern but nobody gives a fuck because theyd rather focus on being skinny. like, physical therapy can literally save people's lives.
we should be using research on muscular development to create appropriate exercise routines for people with limited movement or energy, that matches their limitations while helping mitigate or at least slow muscle loss. or making physical therapy cheaper and more accessible. or advocating for bed and housebound people to make exercise more accessible. literally fucking ANYTHING.
but nope. gotta be skinny instead.
EVERY MORNING I WAKE UP AND OPEN PALM CARESS MY CURSED SPEAR INTO MY HAND. IT ASTRAL PROJECTS ME TO THE ORAMIC WORLDBODY AND RIGHT THEN AND THERE I START DOING THE MOVES ALONGSIDE WITH THE MAIN GUY, ORAMUS. I DO EVERY MOVE AND I DO EVERY MOVE HARD. MAKIN WHOOSHING SOUNDS WHEN I SLAM DOWN SOME FIRST CIRCLE BASTARDS OR EVEN WHEN I MESS UP TECHNIQUE. NOT MANY CAN SAY THEY ESCAPED HELLS MOST DANGEROUS PRISON. I CAN. I SAY IT AND I SAY IT OUTLOUD EVERYDAY TO PEOPLE IN THE BUREAU OF DESTINY AND ALL THEY DO IS PROVE PEOPLE IN THE BUREAU OF DESTINY CAN STILL BE IMMATURE JEKRS. AND IVE LEARNED ALL THE KATAS AND IVE LEARNED HOW TO MAKE MYSELF AND MY CELESTIAL MANSE LESS LONELY BY SHOUTING EM ALL. 2 HOURS INCLUDING WIND DOWN EVERY MORNIng
does a cute pose despite it all

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It's the Royal Academy of Art Young Artist's Summer Show. One of my favourite exhibitions of the year. Like. Not only are the older kids insanely talented, the younger ones' artist statements will just punch you right in the face.
Jeffrey is my cat and he feels like my heart
Click [here] for the full online exhibition
You can tell a lot about a person by entering their mind palace and encountering their greatest fears and darkest hopes in a labyrinth reflective of their subconscious thoughts.
Hey can you guys reblog Cheeseburger so he can take a sunbeam nap on lots of blogs. No other reason I just want you guys to see him.
So, Cheeseburger died on November 21st after an unfairly short battle with an unfairly rare cancer that is rarely seen in cats. I only got to spend a month with him after his diagnosis, and losing him has been the greatest heartbreak of my entire life so far. He was my best friend and my soul cat, and he was there for me when I was completely alone, for twelve long years.
I made this transparent PNG the night he died in preparation for one of the many ways I was going to memorialize him--a surface rug in his likeness that I planned on laying directly in the line of his favourite sunbeam. And I uploaded that PNG here, because this is the website where people post their cats.
I was not expecting the reception I got. Many people have pointed out that this post has more reblogs than likes, and how insane that is in 2025 when reblog culture is at an all time low. I didn't even talk about the fact that Burger passed away in the original post, it wasn't a tearjerker reblog bait or anything like that. People just loved Burger that much, in the same way I fell in love with him at first sight. He was such an ugly kitten.
Anyways, it's really special to me that so many people have reblogged my best friend. I made this PNG to memorialize him in a completely different way, and you all wound up doing just that in ways I never even imagined.
Thank you. Wherever he is, I know the sun is shining.
burning with anger reading accounts of the 1929 Hebron massacre and then hearing people say shit like “everyone lived in peace in Palestine before 1948!”

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All right! I challenge anyone to bring me something Israel is doing that is Evil that America hasn't done longer, worse, and probably to its own citizens, up to and including genocide.
And then tell me how many Jewish people in the last week you've interrogated about Israel, and how many Americans in the last week you've interrogated about bombing Iran, stealing Venezuela for some fucking reason, federal courts' continuing tyranny over tribal lands, ICE's concentration camps, police violence, the rampant horrifying abuse of children detained and in psychiatric facilities, and the President's ongoing crypto scams and pardons that have earned him billions from foreign government officials.
Now remember: Americans are actually citizens of America. Jewish people are citizens of wherever they're citizens of, which is only sometimes Israel.
So tell me again why the double fucking standard, and why y'all on my ass for caring more about the tyranny I can actually fight?
Did you know that, on tribal lands, you don't have the right to an attorney for misdemeanor crimes? Anything that carries less than a year of jail time, there is no right to counsel.
Did you also know that these misdemeanors can sometimes be predicate crimes, meaning: they're misdemeanors the first or maybe second time, but after that they become felonies that carry much more jail time and are prosecuted in federal court?
Did you know that prosecutors federal court can use uncounseled (didn't have an attorney) prior crimes as reasons to enhance charges, elevate misdemeanors to felonies, and worsen sentencing guidelines?
Did you know a challenge to this practice went to the Supreme Court? That every single justice thought it was okay? That Ruth Bader Ginsberg wrote the court opinion for it? (Weirdly, that only Clarence fucking Thomas's concurrence even challenged the reasoning?)
Why don't we care about this? Why isn't this news? Why do tribal lands get federal court and federal jail time and not roads and schools and god damn electricity?
The house down the road is on fire? Wow, that sucks. Our attic is full of bones. The bones are on fire. The attic is on fire. The basement is on fire. My hands are blistered from the stupid fire and you're critiquing their bucket brigade?
Fun fact, this happened to me…. Yesterday! I wrote a poem about it! I was accosted and chased about Israel while I was getting a salad!
Small town bird with nowhere to go