¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I guess God wanted the little robot to enjoy some sushi 🍣 🥲

Everyone who’s been talking to me knows i’ve been working on this comic about wlws and cats for a while and i’m so so happy it’s finally here!!! :D

idea stolen from this post :’3

uk people, sign and share

non uk people, share but don't sign

So I've done my first aid + CPR a few times. And every single time I try and bring up scenarios for fat folks

Specifically like 'what if someone is too large for me to wrap my arms around then to do the heimleich'

And its incredibly rare I get a decent answer.

How absolutely insane is it that me, as a fat person, is asking how to have MY life saved or to save ANOTHER life, is an impossible feat if someone is fat.

Most of the time they tell me to 'just try anyways uwu'

The heimleich is scientifically as effective as slapping someone VERY hard on the back. The only reason it's so well taught is the man that invented it did a lot of great PR for himself. It's also a bit easier for smaller framed people to get the necessary force in, because people are often extremely scared to hurt people, even in life threatening situations.

With larger bodied people, whether they be fat, tall, muscular, etc. If you cannot get your arms around them, literally just slap the shit out of their shoulders. You want hard, open palmed slaps right in the center of the shoulders or slightly below.

If they are too tall for you to reach that high, guide them to lean over the back of a chair, and then slap slap slap slap slap.

It's been proven to be just as effective through many studies. It just doesn't have a trademarked name and a dramatic effect in film.

If you have to do CPR on a larger bodied person, again, fat, body builder, tall and broad, whoever, the trick to finding where you want to put your hands if going to be to take your hand and shove it in their armpit. No seriously. Put your hand in their armpit, then drag it in a straight line towards yourself until you're in the center of the chest, then put your other hand beneath that one. This is where you push. Then you are going to move the arm closest to you out of the way so you can get closer to them, and get the leverage you need to press down for compressions. The more of your body weight that is over your hands, the better the compression will be. Act like you are trying desperately to pack the last of your clothes in a suitcase, and just slam down hard on their chest.

They will make *horrible* noises. You might even break ribs.

But a broken rib is better than being dead.

Stay with me.

We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.

I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence.

It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.

(How do we know the pirate is gay if he’s just posing on a plate? Listen. Fully 100% to stereotype, but he is. He is gay. There’s an energy. That pirate is a flaming homosexual. That pirate has sex with men and does it frequently. That pirate is fucking gay, all right, he just is.)

Anyway. The point is that this is an extremely cheap and ugly plate with a poorly-executed painting of pirate on it who is like a nine on the Kinsey scale.

My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.

When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.

We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.

Me, my sister, and our dad. Her brother.

The three of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.

I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.

Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE–”

Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my dad’s house currently.

The plate must be clearly and openly displayed in a place of great prominence whenever it is in your possession. When it is not in your possession, the display piece must remain in place. This is where you would put your gay pirate plate, IF YOU HAD ONE.

No active steps may be taken to prevent the theft of the Gay Pirate Plate. That goes against the spirit of the game, as does attempting to hide it.

The plate MUST be stolen and cannot be gifted or removed with permission. Should you witness attempted theft of the Gay Pirate Plate you are required to intervene and return it to its place.