Artist, writer, weirdo.

yknow I'm feeling a bit brave so I will venture to say what this blighted essay's pitch actually is: reading project hail mary (novel and film) as a ravishment fantasy. in both main threads of the narrative grace is brought wildly out of his element and pulled into the orbit of a mysterious foreign stranger who is significantly stronger / richer / more powerful than him, forced to accept unsolicited lavish gifts and personal praise despite protests and discomfort, and made to live in isolated locations in extremely close proximity to these people with no say in the matter, all of which are common motifs in ravishment fantasies. on her own, stratt also brings in other common motifs of restraints, drugging, being above the law, multiple kidnappings (I'm doing crazy things with the classical definition of "rape" as in "abduction" and its shared etymology with "rapture" as in "being taken to the heavens"), and the very specific yet still common motif of "otherwise trustworthy partner goes too far and doesn't take 'no' for an answer." rocky on his own brings in the overprotective flavor common to a lot of dark romance novel heroes, i.e. "I make sure you sleep and I like to watch you while you do it, I make sure you eat enough even if you've got baggage about it, I make inhuman displays of strength when you're injured, and as long as I'm around I'll make sure nothing bad ever happens to you ever again."

Hey kids! Don't smoke. Just don't do it. It affects your body in the worst ways possible, even if you never get cancer.

There is hope for you, and hope beyond coping with smoke. Specifically, the younger you are, the safer you are to quit. Specifically, even if you cannot quit, you are not wrong. You are not evil or gross.

Heterosexual relationship culture is so alien to me and I don’t know if it’s the fact I’m not cishet or the fact I’m autistic but I hear so many things that make me go “Am I insane or are they?”

okay look i know this isn't relevant to this post past the second paragraph but. here's the thing. the facts of the case are as follows:

A few months ago my mom got our dog a really nice like $60 dog bed that Ellie just absolutely refuses to sleep in because she’d rather be in bed with my mom or on the couch. So my mom gave Josh and I the bed to see if Vincent would like it and it’s an immediate hit, he jumped in as soon as I put it down and won’t move

Fuck AI, look at my handsomest boy instead, he helps me in the garden by digging holes next to where I am digging. He is not helping at all, but I appreciate his spirit, we are bonding.

me: I will raise him no differently than the two 80-lb labs I had growing up. absolutely no hoity-toity frou frou little yapyap dog stuff. he's gonna be a good ol' fashioned, rough-and-tumble, capital D-O-G—

to celebrate the popularity of this post, I ordered him another set of the linen jammies in yellow. now he looks like paddington bear

went out for pints with the lads last night.