I have a bisexual guppy and its funny as hell to watch because it seems like heās only bi out of desperation. Like all of the female guppies are unimpressed by him, and dont accept his mating displays, and every time he fails, he goes over to a SPECIFIC male guppy (the prettiest male guppy in the tank) like PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE and that male guppy always lets him????
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so i met this girl at a punk show last night and she was like āyouāre [headmateās name] right?ā and i was like āitās complicated but you can call me [my name]ā assuming sheād heard someone else call me by my headmateās name or something. things go well and within about five minutes i got this girl on her knees while holding the end of her leash. then sheās like āthis is so much better than last time we talkedā and iām like what.
turns out my headmate had completely fumbled this girl a few months earlier. she asked me what was different this time and i gave a vague answer about containing multitudes and sheās like āplural? me too!ā so not only did i upstage my headmate by a crazy amount but i also got a plural girl who wants me to domme her. stay winning š
The human body's response to HRT is actually admirable in the sheer indifference. Just pure I Don't Give A Shit, I Just Fucking Work Here compliance to the new instructions. You can get testosterone injected straight into your body and it doesn't even question where that shit came from, coming back from a coffee break and just going
"Okay, everything seems to be in ord- oh fuck now what? Oh huh. Alright fine. New orders came in, cancel the menstrual cycle. Dig up the genetic balding patterns from somewhere, I don't fucking know they're buried somewhere in the dna. I'm greenlighting the growing-hair-on-your-toes thing. Yeah just cancel the ongoing maintenance processes, new orders came in so this is apparently what we're doing now."
genuinely i think a big problem with science education is we spend too much time in high school telling students DNA is like, the Magical Essence of an Organism.
dna is mostly just instructions for building proteins, and not very persuasive ones at that. it sits in the nucleus of the cell, and what happens after RNA transcription isn't any of its business. this is a good thing! it means we can override it sometimes when we need to (and when we know how). but a lot of rhetoric around DNA (and therefore gender and sex and morphological freedom in general) treats it like this Platonic sorcery that must be obeyed, lest we incur the wrath of the gods. and it's nothing so special!
While it obviously did not happen during Karl Franz's reign, the fact that Vlad Von Carstein, aka the big grandaddy of all Vampire Counts is/was legally an Elector Count will never not be funny to me.
Just imagine Vlad Von Fucking Carstein engaging in normal Imperial politics, making deals in the senate and all those "normal" stuff.
Vlad, in his blood-red vampiric armour, leaving his literally blood-drinking sword, the Wailing Blade to a footman at the door and sitting down to discuss the impact of the current agricultural tax politics on Sylvania's peasant farmers.
āMy good Lords and Ladies, have you considered that raising taxes on the peasants will make them eat less, become malnourished. Should they not be healthy, well fed and plump? Why, you ask? Well, um, uh *cough* next agenda item pleaseā
This becomes even funnier in the End Times when Vlad is reinstated as a Elector Count in exchange for helping the Empire fight Chaos (which he does with gusto).
Because by then he's a known historical figure. People have read about him in history classes and seen him in teathre plays.
Just imagine that you're a shrewd Noble merchant who just got wind of that Sylvania has been reinstated as a proper Province and since you just remembered that your family has some dilapidated holdings in one of their Sigmar-forsaken villages and you've decided to see if you can't finagle some favorable terms from the new Elector Count in exchange for pretending to improve the village somewhat.
You get to the meeting room, squeeze part the uncommonly large wolfhounds lounging close to the fireplace (it's huge! Surely there's barely any Hound in it! It's got to be mostly wolf! Clearly the new Count is a avid hunter to own such a beast. Probably hunts bears. That is good, you can play on that) and take a note of the massive sword resting in its scabbard against the wall, which you swear seems to softly moan and wait to itself (this is normal! Completely normal! The Elector Count is a native Sylvanian you've heard, of course he's gonna have a cursed sword! He's a bleedin' Sylvanian! This is normal this is normal this is nor...) and then the shadows close to the windows move and part and you see Him.
And it is HIM. The Blood-drinker Count. The Scourge of the Empire. The Instigator of the Vampire Wars. The Martyrer of Priests. First and Greatest of the Vampire Counts. It is fucking Vlad Von Carstein!
You feel like fainting as Vlad motions you to sit down and smiles with teeth that are sharper and longer than those of any beast and... pulls out a yellowing document with numerous annotations in a archaic but expert hand and your breath catches as you realize that you're looking at 450 years of perfectly documented taxes for Bumfuck, Sylvania and more specifically how much taxes your family has NOT paid for their holdings in the last 400 years.
You almost wish he'd just rip out your throat as Vlad pulls out a bone-rimmed monocle and starts to, in excruciating detail, go through exactly how economically fucked you are and in how many ways your family has failed in their obligations towards the village they own.
The wailing of the sword seems to imperceptibly rise in volume to echo your own internal screaming.
Vlad was a murderous dictator who almost crushed the Empire. But he's charming, reasonable and extremely territorial in a way that if he wasn't so deadset on becoming Emperor, there's a real argument to be had for the Empire to just give him Sylvania (which no one wants anyway) because that way you have a completely impenetrable bulwark guarding that border.
Because Vlad does NOT suffer invaders of his claimed territory lightly. He has defended Sylvania with a near-perfect record against maraudibg greenskins, Chaos hordes and Skaven swarms with equal skill.
He would actually be a great Elector Count if it weren't for his Imperial ambitions.
Konrad on the other hand is a foaming-at-the-mouth madman and Manfred is a insane Sorceror who literally sold out the world and doesn't care for anything except sorcery and himself.
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you all have to check out the rules if this wiki. theyre wild
Generally, you will be warned for breaking the rules a few times before you are banned. The first ban will likely be one week long, the seco
Throwing this one out as a fave. Didnt realize Animal Crossing was porn.
They also have a classification system aped from scp including a tier for character who nobody thinks are sexy. unsexy characters are allowed and if a character actually has sex thats too sexy for the sexman wiki
whenever the conversation about difficulty and accessibility in games come up i want to slam my head into a wall because noone thats speaking has anything more than a surface level understanding of what "difficulty" even is
your game should have accessibility options, but if your only accessibility options are "turn off central game mechanics" then you have made shit accessibility options.
you know what accessibility option doesnt completely fucking butcher your game while allowing almost everyone to play it? an option that is not available in 99.99% of all games ever made? easy:
Itās recently been found that even hive insects rest. Bees will play with colorful toys. Ants sleep for about 1 minute but they do it so frequently it amounts to a few hours per day. Even trees take breaks.
The only things that work without rest are machines; literally everything that lives requires rest.
EVERYTHING THAT LIVES REQUIRES REST. STOP JUDGING YOURSELF FOR NOT BEING A ROBOT.
robots require very frequent breaks! welding machines generally have it programmed in that they canāt run so long they melt themselves. ive overseen two different manufacturing robots now and each of them were fragile, finicky idiots that require constant maintenance and repair. they pause in between moves, in between jobs. youāre always keeping an eye on programming errors, on coolant levels, on heat. youāre always pulling bits of scrap out of joints, sweeping up debris, washing off nozzles and untangling hoses. and even then it snaps a chain and takes a whole morningās vacation.
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A lot of people don't realize just how much space car infrastructure takes up. So I've decided to provide everyone a visual aid!
I've presented two maps at the exact same zoom level, as indicated by the big red arrow. They also each have a red area circled, of approximately the same area.
In the first image, I've circled one of eightish parking lots at a US mall. A normal amount of distance for even Americans who drive everywhere to walk through.
In the second image, I've circled:
a subway station
a park
like twenty apartment buildings
like twenty restaurants
three convenience stores (which, being Japanese, can also handle banking, copying/printing, and a variety of governmental paperwork)
one grocery store (another two right outside the circle)
seven medical clinics, two pharmacies
a fire station
a post office
two preschools and three cram schools
a ShintÅ shrine
a Buddhist temple
multiple parking lots
This wasn't even a particularly cherry-picked part of Tokyo! I just picked the area around my house.
In case anyone thinks by "a park" I'm talking about the green area not circled, I'm not, I'm talking at this area at the southeast end of the circle:
Here's another angle on the area I circled, with a lot of the things I mentioned in view.
The shrine, just because I have a soft spot for Tokyo neighborhood shrines:
Anyway, I suppose I'll end on what the mall parking lot looks like.
Remember, this is one of eightish parking lots at this mall.
I need parents to understand that reading the same Lankybox graphic novel over and over is actually a gateway drug to Reading Stuff Other Than That. And shutting down books kids get excited about is a gateway drug to kids Not Reading Period.
When I was a kid I would read Simpsons episode guides. Simpsons episode guides! I was reading literal summaries of a tv show in a book that was designed to be leafed around in rather than read cover-to-cover! And guess what! It built up positive associations with reading for me and established reading as a habit! Hell, because the Simpsons isn't necessarily a kids show, I could actually return to it and get more out of the jokes as I got older! Let kids read garbage! To quote Mac Barnett, kids have just as much of a right to read garbage as adults!
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Insane to me that disabled people will say: "Hey, your glorified idea of revolution is going to get us killed" and then be treated as collateral damage or a necessary sacrifice. Like, yeah, the systems in place now are oppressive and literally based on eugenics, but a Revolutionā¢ļøis not going to save us. How are we supposed to trust you (abled people) to put good systems in place if you're ready to kill us to get rid of the old one. That's not saving people. Treating disabled people as if they're ridiculous for not wanting to die and pointing out how bad a revolution would be for us is insane. You're actually a horrible person if you do this.
I don't know, folks, I'm just so fucking tired of us disabled people either being ignored or told to shut up. We're treated as worthless and expendable. I'm not dying for your Great Revolutionā¢ļø. I need my meds.
There's this sort of anthropomorphizing that inherently happens in language that really gets me sometimes. I'm still not over the terminology of "gravity assist," the technique where we launch satellites into the orbit of other planets so that we can build momentum via the astounding and literally astronomical strength of their gravitational forces, to "slingshot" them into the direction we need with a speed that we could never, ever, ever create ourselves. I mean, some of these slingshots easily get probes hurtling through space at tens of thousands of miles per hour. Wikipedia has a handy diagram of the Voyager 1 satellite doing such a thing.
"Gravity assist." "Slingshot." Of course, on a very basic and objective level, yes, we are taking advantage of forces generated by outside objects to specifically help in our goals. We're getting help from objects in the same way a river can power a mill. And of course we call it a "slingshot," because the motion is very similar (mentally at least; I can't be sure about the exact physics).
Plus, especially compared to the other sciences, the terminology for astrophysics is like, really straightforward. "Black hole?" Damn yeah it sure is. "Big bang?" It sure was. "Galactic cluster?" Buddy you're never gonna guess what this is. I think it's an effect of the fact that language is generally developed for life on earth and all the strange variances that happen on its surface, that applying it to something as alien and vast as space, general terms tend to suffice very well in a lot more places than, like... idk, botany.
But, like. "Gravity assist." I still can't get the notion out of my head that such language implies us receiving active help from our celestial neighbors. They come to our aid. We are working together. We are assisted. Jupiter and the other planets saw our little messengers coming from its pale blue molecular cousin, and we set up the physics just right, so that they could help us send them out to far stranger places than this, to tell us all about what they find out there.
We are assisted.
And there is no better way to illustrate my feelings on the matter than to just show you guys one of my favorite paintings, this 1973 NASA art by Rick Guidice to show the Pioneer probe doing this exact thing:
"... You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me. ..."
For the painting especially thereās a beauty in depicting some of our most advanced technology as synonymous with the most ancient. Very few people throughout history have had the privilege of seeing the face of Jupiter but many would recognize the sling thrower immediately.
