Cypressed

Hmm. Yeah, I think you’re right. If I share this with friends online anywhere else I’ll leave it out.

The bed is too damn hot.

“Please select the toy whose attributes are more likely to statistically correlate with the reproductive caste demographic which has been labeled ‘male’ by the consensus of Homo Sapiens who speak English.”

“Ma’am do you think a college educated sociologist would work at a fast food drive-thru?”

“In this economy? Absolutely, yes.”

“…”

“…”

“…okay fair, I’ll put the toy car in the bag.”

oh, my friend, i’m sad to say that this planet has been as fucked as a toddler at a republican invite-only soiree for a long time already u.u

Our fate was sealed since the 1960s.

The timeline branch where we avoided this was the one where Nixon was executed for treason. We are, unfortunately, obviously in one of the variations of the world where that did not happen.

(edit: i know he was only sworn in by 1969 and resigned in 1974 but the prerequisites for dragging his sick bastard carcass to justice were supposed to have been laid out in JFK’s second term. … Which also didn’t happen in the timeline where we have had the misfortune to find ourselves)

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while i love how pretty clothes are when they’re marketed to women, i’m actually more often disappointed by, like, how they oftentimes (not every time but too many times) seem flimsier, and cost more, and are literally less functional and practical. like, what the heck is WRONG with them going out of their way to make pants that only have the appearance of pockets but no ACTUAL POCKETS?! i like pockets ;~; i can keep my stuff in them…

so sometimes i wonder if it’d just be better if people could be somehow convinced to stop enabling such pointlessly gendered design that puts an entire dang half of the whole population at a disadvantage. i think male-identified individuals should have pretty clothes too and it’s sad that there’s a social stigma about it

YAAASSS go get it fam!!

live free of social convention!

honestly LOVE that for you <3

Ah, you think dorkness is your ally? You merely adopted the dork. I was born in it, molded by it. I didn’t see mainstream until I was already … obsessively hyperfixated on a niche set of personal interests that normally cause neurotypical people’s eyes to glaze over as they completely shut down from infodump saturation ^-^;

also i love that your name, Zorque, seems to rhyme with ‘dork’ when i sound it out in my head ;3

i honestly genuinely think that’s cool as heck!

this is why i never wear socks that stop at the heel or the ankle. i can’t stand the feeling of the edge riding down >.<

there was a little while where i had to wear compression stockings for a health-related reason, but i’ve come to really like how they feel being all the way up to my knee …

… and now i’m kinda interested in finding some pairs of thigh-highs too~ ^^;

i’m of the opinion that willfully choosing to break a rule after being told why it exists would belong in a different category than not understanding why the rule exists and thus not being able to justify its relevancy.

there are too many systems with conflicting contradictory rules where following all of them is literally impossible and even neurotypicals have to cull instructions on the basis of relevancy as a result, after all…

another absolute banger from TotallyNotJessica <3

if a sausage that claims to be ‘meat’ is, by majority volume and weight, non-meat filler, though… i daresay there are some people who would take issue with that, and i wouldn’t blame them. Meat can be sausage… but sausage CAN be made with no meat, or almost no meat.

i hope historians ten thousand years from now will find record of both the gene wilder version of wonka AND what’s left of homeric texts, and this post too, and realize the same conclusion.

i might have been convinced that chatbots could’ve had some utility as sort of advanced ‘rubber duck debugging’, but in my humble opinion talking to an actual rubber ducky is a superior process because literal rubber duckies are not known for telling us to kill ourselves unless we’ve taken a truly apocalyptic quantity of hallucinogens.

I friggin love tailsteak

… Kind of a mic drop.

Hmm, you do make a fair point. Chatbots, indeed, are absolutely not velociraptors.

… So FAR.