boricua en la luna

it doesn't matter to cats what kind of bad week you're going through, they'll come into your room and start doing repeated bulldozer attacks on you

ok but like when did self-sacrifice become synonymous with death? writers seem to have forgotten that people can make personal sacrifices for the greater good without giving their lives. plots about self-sacrifice and selflessness don’t always have to end in death. suffering doesn’t have to be mourning. you can create drama and emotional depth on your show without killing everyone. learn to explore the meaning of living rather than dying

one of the many things that make disability discourse online so terrible is that "disability" is an extremely heterogeneous group that it basically never makes sense to write a tweet-length sentiment about

[image description: brightly colored art of two blue sharks with white wave patterns covering their fins. Between the sharks are various squiggles and stars, along with three dinosaur plushies, an inchworm beanie baby, a sticky hand toy, a melting orange popsicle, a snow cone, some crayons, and a smiley face sticker. End ID]

like why do people act like the south is a lawless christian wasteland where anyone who isn’t cishet and white gets beat to death for existing. yes bigotry is worse in the bible belt but for the love of god you know people exist there just fine being lgbt and gnc. southerners aren’t all mindless conservative apes, most of them are just normal ass people. you ever seen the average woman walking around a walmart in georgia? braless makeupless and not conventionally attractive but existing just fine and peacefully. like cmon humans are more complex than that. you’ll be fine

not to mention the fact that the American south has a much higher black population than the rest of the US and implying that everyone in the south are mindless, violent bigots is pretty fucking racist!!

turns out the mitochondria is liiiiterally the powerhouse of the cell. did y’all know this.

holding all women engaged to men by the shoulders and shaking them and telling them, YOU DONT HAVE TO CHANGE YOUR NAME! YOU DONT HAVE TO TAKE HIS LAST NAME! YOU DONT HAVE TO! IT WONT CAUSE PROBLEMS IF YOU DONT! YOU CAN KEEP YOUR NAME! ITS YOUR NAME! ITS YOURS FOREVER IF YOU SO DESIRE! AND IF HES PUSHY ABOUT YOU NOT TAKING HIS NAME THATS SEXIST! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE LEGAL PROCESS OF CHANGING YOUR IDENTITY AND HE DOESNT! KEEP YOUR NAME IF YOU WANT IT!

So last month I got hit by a car and died right. Which I didn't initially realize until I watched some guy haul my body into his pickup and drive off. Which, being that it's deep in rural Michigan, I assume means my body will make some venison jerky and maybe some wall decoration, and I'll be resigned to being one of hundreds of deer ghosts floating around Saginaw, which is w/e. But then I find out the guy works at a taxidermy shop or something, and he's actually pretty good at stuffing and mounting deer carcasses, which I come to find out when I find myself face to face with my old body in the shop window. So naturally, I figure since ghosts need to possess something to interact with the living world and etc etc etc the most logical thing to do is to possess my own body, since it's basically a statue of myself. And a little surprisingly, it actually fits like a glove. Like, since it's my body, it feels like stepping right back into place. So I get out of town and back to my herd, eventually. And that's where the trouble starts coming into it, because after I get settled again, I don't know how to explain to everyone else what feels so weird. Like since I can move my body and do everything I used to do, it's functionally the same, like nothing happened. Or it SHOULD be, so I don't know how to explain how it's NOT. But it's just hard to explain it to someone who's never been hit by a truck I guess

when we started talking about getting a small-breed dog I was like, "I will NEVER turn into one of those people who treats their little dog like a doll or an accessory by forcing them to dress up in ridiculous outfits. Dogs HATE that. They should get to be DOGS, and that means not having to wear anything but a HARNESS and being FREE to ROLL in the MUD." and then I adopted a dog who throws a fit if you try to take him for a walk without letting him pick out a bow tie first. a dog who loves wearing pajamas so much that I'm about to spend a disgusting amount of money on several sets of linen ones for summer. a dog who watches me wave at him to follow me through a mud puddle and just stands there blinking up at me like, "are you fucking serious? and get my paws wet?"

funniest sound in the world is a cat smacking shit hard as fuck with their little stupid paw

It's hilarious to me that Al Capone was an amazing tipper. I get why it took so long to catch him.

getting kicked off love island for just swimming in the pool and not talking to anyone