hi, im duck! | she/they please | genderqueer lesbian | icon credit- picrew.me/image_maker/1473879 | :)
hi, im duck! | she/they please | genderqueer lesbian | icon credit- picrew.me/image_maker/1473879 | :)
Twitter User: I wish I had more followers, then I’d be more likely to get verified.
Facebook User: I wish my posts reached further, then I’d get famous.
Instagram User: I wish I had more followers so I can unlock more basic features for my account.
TikTok User: I wish I had more views then I’d be a real influencer.
Tumbler User: I specifically didn’t tag this so no one would find it why does it have 200k notes? Who the hell are these people following me? All of you need to go away so I can go back to posting incomprehensible garbage and pictures of frogs.
Here’s a picture of a blue poison dart frog.
Okay, lots of folks asking “INSTAGRAM DOES THAT!?”
And yes, it does:
Kaeru the frog from Poco’s Udon World
reblog this post for your chance to be KIDNAPPED by the BIRD KING!
That’s fine until you get a spiral horse
Those dumb fuckers don’t even know about Corkscrew Horse
Goofy walks into the men’s changing room
Honestly out of all the extremely stupid reblog chains I’ve been a part of on this website this one is by far my favorite. I think we did a great job here and should hit the showers.
Anytime you think something might be too dark for kids just remember that children all across the world are enamoured with a franchise about dead murdered children haunting creepy animatronics that try to kill you. One of the characters is a decaying corpse trapped inside an animatronic. And they love it and buy toys and books and watch videos about it. Children can handle dark stuff and are interested and intrigued by it. It's OK.
How many altos does it take to screw in a lightbulb? None, they can’t get that high.
How many sopranos does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
One, she holds it up and waits for the world to revolve around her.
How many singers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Two. An alto to actually do it and a soprano to stand by and ask “isn’t that a little high for you?”
u wanna fucking go
here for this fight
How do you know a soprano is at your door?
She can’t find the key and doesn’t know where to come in
Is anyone else ever a little baffled by the cis women who consider women’s restrooms and locker rooms these safe havens from abuse and sexual harassment?
Like I feel like there are two options here:
1. They did not have mean girls in their school
2. They were the mean girls in their school and didn’t realize all the shit they were doing to the other girls in the locker room was absolutely sexual harassment and sometimes assault
I would only nuance this with two other possibilities that work in tandem with these:
3. They’re probably skinny and able-bodied with no significant scarring on their bodies
4. They didn’t grow boobs as a preteen
There’s actually a fifth explanation which, after talking to a lot of these women (mostly GCs/TERFs) seems to be what it usually is *and* is fucking horrifying: They don’t consider women *capable* of committing sexual harassment/assault. That’s something that only men do/are capable of.
When I was a child the bathroom was where I got cornered and bullied and back then I was the girliest gender conforming looking little mess covered in lip gloss and bows. I have no idea how cis women think that any public bathroom is safe ever. Do they think that public restrooms have a force field that keeps cis men out? What about creepy women? What about those godless heathens that leave their used tampons on the floor? Public restrooms are primal evil spaces of disgust and horror.
I'm going to slaughter the rich I hate hate hate capitalism I'm going to find the vaults of each and every megacorporation and melt down their stupid rich people things and I'm going to pour it down their throats I'm going to murder advertisers in the world if I have to see one more ad I will destroy websites that are just tools for our apocalyptic capitalist hellhole of a society I am going to blow up their servers I don't want to hear about Popular Musician's New Album I don't care about this new and supposedly healthier juice that you're telling me to buy I swear to god-
lol sorry for that I keep getting five unskippable Spotify ads in a row after less than ten minutes of music yknow how it is hahahahahahahahahahhaha
You're right though
i have some questions yet i find myself too afraid to seek answers
dear god not the tumbleweeds
completely justified response if you haven't encountered tumbleweeds firsthand (because most of us are only familiar with the loony tunes version) but in reality....
so the thing about tumbleweeds is they are in fact incredibly invasive. they cause millions of dollars of damage every year, and create serious traffic accidents and agricultural disruption. (they're also highly flammable, because of course they are.) the town in question was piled so deep, residents had to call 911 after being trapped in their homes. bulldozers and emergency workers had to be brought. it was wild.
tumbleweeds are also heavier than they look--they're made of wood after all. and they're big (most varieties top out at 4 feet, but there are larger ones that can reach up to 6 feet across. you know how the Emu War sounds absurd and fictional until you realize emus are 6 solid feet of clawed, beaked, avian dinosauric FUCK YOU? yeah, this is like that
You ever have a compliment that just sticks with you for literal years and years? Maybe forever?
For me, it’s when I was working as a figure model for art classes at my university (because it paid well due to being an early-morning thing and was easy to get because nobody else wanted to apply due to the near-nakedness and pervasive body image issues in our culture). There was this one professor who was always so happy when I showed up as the female model for that day because he said that I had a “good sense of motion”, and it was fun to draw. (Which, in itself, was a great compliment because I am a clumsy, self conscious person.)
But what really got me was one day we were doing 15-minute poses, which are harder to do because you need to come up with something interesting and dynamic, but you have to be able to hold it for a quarter of an hour without moving even a little bit. They didn’t have any specific guidance for us, so I just… did something. Idk. But about five minutes into wandering around helping the students and talking to them, he paused and told me that I was doing a good job, and, “What a fun pose. You’re reminding me of Rodin’s ‘Eve,’ there. You always have a very Rodin sort of energy about you. Thanks for waking up early for us.” And then just went back to discussing the use of ink with one of the students like he hadn’t almost reduced me to tears.
Then I went home and looked up Rodin’s ‘Eve’ and was blown away because she actually did look like me? I had ended up in that pose almost exactly just by chance, but she also had a soft, squidgy tummy and the hip dips and weird butt and big feet and thunder thighs and strong calves, just like me.
And I don’t have a great relationship with my body. Very much the opposite. I frequently hate the way I look and fit into it, but then occasionally from the depths of the past comes the voice of an art nerd telling me I’m like a Rodin sculpture, and I feel like, “Yeah, I have Rodin Energy so suck it, brain!” And it helps me reframe the way I’m thinking about myself because I can get outside of my head for a minute and see that while I’m frustrated with my body, it has an art to it just by existing. Soft tummy? Fun to draw, nice curves! Big thighs? Strong lines! Dimples and wrinkles and slopes become a place for light to sit. Bodies are so cool, and that includes mine! Even if it’s not quite what I want it to be, it’s still a work of art that nature sculpted just for me.
And for him it just seemed like such an off-handed, normal, natural thing to say. He thought “Hey, that looks like Rodin,” and so he said it.
Just… Idk. Compliment people. Say what’s on your mind. You have no idea whether it’s going to totally change a person’s life. It’s just words to you but it could be really, deeply important to them.
You do not owe your partner(s) sex. I mostly see this passed around in the asexual community, and it absolutely needs emphasis there, but this applies to anyone of any orientation. You never owe your partner(s) sex under any circumstance.
If your sex drive or libido is lower than your partner’s, you may feel obligated to “keep up” with them to make them happy. But you have a right to say no, or not be in the mood, or be too tired, or just not want to right now. Your partner(s) should respect your right to say no and your bodily autonomy.
If your partner(s) try to harass, manipulate, or coerce you into having sex when you say no, they’re an asshole. Having said yes in the past does not mean you can never say no. It is not your responsibility or obligation to provide sex. You do not need to violate your own boundaries to make someone else happy. Your partner(s) should respect your right to say no, and if they don’t, they don’t deserve you.
Your body belongs to you, and you decide what’s best for your sexual health. Happy Pride
Honestly I wish people with neurological disorders and mental illness talking to themselves was more normalized so here’s to people with autism who narrate things! people with adhd who talk out loud to remember stuff! people with tourette’s and tic disorders with verbal tics! people with psychosis who talk to their voices! people with DID who talk to their alters!
If you talk to yourself for any reason you are wonderful and not bad or weird. And if you see someone talking to yourself and think it’s weird? Maybe mind your own business!
God I love talking to myself. It’s how I manage flashbacks, too - I say “No, that’s enough now,” to myself, out loud, and the fact I can hear those words means I can listen to them most of the time (almost always if I catch it during a spiral towards triggering myself).
Also like I will say something out loud like, “okay so this next and then that” and it helps me understand complicated construction. Or I say a number or something aloud so I can replay it for myself when I need to remember it.