Reblogging Spree

Title: Going Shopping? 🛍️

Fandom: Sailor Moon 🌙

More comfy 90’s fashion for my 90’s girlie 💓

Usagi would be just the girl to go window shopping with and then going out for lunch.

I just spent three hours pulling up carpet and staples for a friend’s home renovation and we all did nothing but chat and joke and have wonderful conversation the whole time.

(Part 1)

let me share a memory with y’all. it’s from i guess 1978 or thereabouts. it’s high summer. i don’t remember where my mom was driving me, in our avocado green chevette, i just know there was a traffic jam that turned 35w northbound into a parking lot from horizon to horizon.

picture it – wait, you don’t have to use your imagination, this happened all the damn time back then.

every one of those damn cars was burning leaded gasoline. there were no emissions regulations. there were no safety regulations. there were just thousands and thousands of detroit steel shoeboxes belching visible smoke as they idled, engines loud and hot, here and there a radiator giving up in the heat, a cloud of burning oil rising.

i, a smeet of five or six, was choking on toxic smog.

i reckon it was about a half hour into the traffic jam that i first threw up. i remember a blinding headache, i remember being confused, i remember dry heaving with my arms and head hanging out the window, the green metal of the car burning my hands and my chin. i don’t remember passing out, but i’m told i lost consciousness before mom was able to get to an off-ramp, because there were no emergency lanes on the highways back then.

i lived. and life went on. what were we going to do, complain? if i’d died, the cause of death probably would’ve been recorded as heatstroke, not carbon monoxide poisoning.

i know i’m probably preaching to the choir here on tumblr. but i really wish i could tell that story to the people who think deregulation is no big deal. i wish they’d put themselves in my mom’s shoes.

or even just look at some old pictures, then look out the window.

ever notice how cityscapes used to have that orange tint and hazy aura? yeah, that’s poison gas.

remember how the mississippi river used to be a stinking soup of baby-shit yellow sludge covered with disturbingly stiff rafts of light orange foam?

i can’t even find pictures of the sludge and foam, i guess they didn’t end up on the internet. the smell was indescribable. that oily shimmer. the reek of dead things. people didn’t boat on the river for pleasure; it smelled too bad, it was too ugly, and you could get super super sick if you touched the water.

and now look at it.

i still wouldn’t want to drink it, but if i fell in i wouldn’t bolt for the shower in a panic, you know?

if the thieving billionaires get their way, we can kiss those sailboats goodbye, and learn the smell of toxic foam once more. the ultra-rich won’t even feel the extra money, they’ve already got more than they could ever touch, they just stash it in offshore accounts to rot, but the rest of us will return to a time of neverending nausea and weird cancers. a time when every elementary school class had at least one kind who’d been born with no fingers or their heart outside their body, and this was just… the way things were.

When I was learning my trade, when my classmates and I were having a chuckle over the “well duh” level of specificity written into the Code of Federal Regulations (try “no hazardous material shall be stored in crew berthing” on for size), I will never forget the silence that followed when our instructor spoke these words:

“Your regulations are written in blood.”

These regulations were not written on a whim. They were written because someone thought they could cut costs by storing however many more pounds of a radioactive, toxic, carcinogenic, or whatever else material in the same rooms where the human beings they paid to transport those materials slept, and then did that, because no one was telling them not to. 

They were written because people died. Horrifically. Because unregulated capitalism values profit over human life and suffering. 

Can I say it again, for those not paying attention? 

More importantly, regulations don’t exist on their own, they are the explanations and guidelines for how to follow federal laws. Getting rid of the regulations doesn’t make the laws go away, it just makes them harder to follow, harder to enforce, and makes it harder for people to get assistance or find justice when those laws are broken.

Anyway, the American Society of Anesthesiologists recommends contacting your state legislature and your state’s insurance commissioner if you live in CT, NY, or MO.

Malcolm X: Our History Was Destroyed By Slavery

the teenagers get swords and staffs and practice knives. we teach them moves from marvel movies that they ask about. they get squirt guns and snowball fights too. we let them goof off and climb the support beams and charge directly at each other in padded suits.

sometimes parents say they miss doing things like that. I tell them, "stay for an adult class. just try it out." we build obstacle courses and let them mess around with training rifles. they chat while sparring. we scream and cheer for them when they're in the middle of a circle. and then we send them out to the parking lot with squirt guns and snowballs.

Don’t like the gym? Ok, go find a line dancing club. A Tai Chi class. Play Just Dance every day. Arrange a tag football team. Go to a trampoline park.

be like the dandelion!! unkillable! joyous!! inherently transsexual in ways others cannot fully understand!

Anytime someone tries to say that Trump can’t change the Constitution because it’s really hard to amend, people scream at them. Just totally tear their heads off like “fuck you, how dare you say Trump isn’t going to end America on day one, you fucking idiot.”