Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Dweeb

I am home from work and I am pooping on the toilet now

bad post guys

My dad has worked in construction is whole life, primarily with a company that does concrete foundations, and I immediately sent him this back when I first found it on TikTok, and he IMMEDIATELY shared it with everyone he worked with. They apparently still quote it on his job sites to this day.

I hate ruminating on what could have been. Out here thinking "if only I locked in when I was 13" are we serious

the reason you, a white american, believe that white americans don't have culture is the same reason fish don't believe in water

yes i know you think it's an antiracist statement, that you're saying it's a bad thing white americans don't have culture. but what you're actually saying is that the way white americans live is simply the normal way to live and that "culture" refers only to deviations from that norm

there's real holidays and then there's, you know, cultural holidays. there's regular foods and there's ethnic foods

if you feel some kind of yearning as a white american to connect with your Ancestral Culture you can get really into wearing lederhosen or playing bagpipes or whatever. but you could also just learn to understand the way you are living right now as a culture and not some kind of neutral default absence of culture

Love watching movies with people who are autistic about different things than I am. Last week a friend and I were watching Twisters, and he said, those are going to turn out to be good guys. And I said, how do you know? And he said, because their truck brands are owned by the same equity company as the main character's.

No, no. I can have one more shot, I swear. I won’t start behaving like a flamboyantly gay pansy stock character in a pre-code film again. I swear. You can trust me. Darling, you must trust me.

when my shelter cat passes by me, he pauses for a second, and looks up. He is waiting for me to lean down, and touch my hand against his side, so that when he keeps walking, my hand skims across his fur. he doesn't really need attention. he has his own thoughts and plans. but after more than a year of living in our home, he has come to expect a moment of kindness whenever he crosses my path. if I don't do it, he will follow me. "where is your hand?" he asks, with his plaintive and impatient eyes. I give it to him. he bumps against it like a balloon before wandering away. this is a poem to me

gods greatest punishment was putting 1 trillion cool rocks on earth and no one with eyes big enough to see them all

*gets scared and throws one of my cool rocks at your fourhead*

FUCK. honestly just FUCK. We missed a very important day yesterday.

what was yesterday, cat?

I’m not missing it this year.

official linguistics post