hey!!! so we’re moving again here soon, im getting shorted on hours at work, and i would like to have More Money for that!!! prices are in usd and may differ depending on design complexity or any additional characters, if ur interested shoot me a message and we can talk it out :3

i love drawing fem characters pokemon and furries so furry girl likers i am at your doorstep on my knees holding up my tablet and looking at you with the wettest eyes

etakeh:

In case you think the writers on strike aren’t making good use of their time, think no more!

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Only click the read more if you’re fully prepared. I’m taking no responsibility past this point.

Keep reading

rapidreptile:

rapidreptile:

rapidreptile:

it should be illegal for landlords to charge for in building laundry

it should be illegal for landlords

just some notes on this:

Keep reading

potato-gay:

identitty-dickruption:

do you have a 10k+ notes post?

yes, more than one (on my main)

yes, one (on my main)

yes, more than one (between main and sideblogs)

yes, more than one (on a sideblog)

yes, one (on a sideblog)

no

viridianriver:

ladyshinga:

OceanGate tried to scrub the internet clean of traces that it ever existed, taking down its Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and LinkedIn pages

OceanGate, the deep-sea exploration company that created the Titan submersible, has removed its Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and LinkedIn a

Insider

poor things, well we should definitely make this easier on them by never repeatedly mentioning their name and deeds on the “reblog things forever” website

Oh yay it’s the “cover evidence before the court case” move

It’d be a bummer if there were hundreds of pages of their content archived on the internet archive

Or backups of their YouTube channels

disabledprincesses:

disabledprincesses:

Non-autistics living with autistics:

They keep eating the same freaking food and it frustrates me so much! We can’t have the “big scary light” on just lamps everywhere! Even when I try to find peace by doing stuff with them they just ignore me and do whatever they want. They can’t even do the simplest of things like go with me to the grocery store every week! How do people expect them to survive in society??

Autistics living together:

So as long as we get my 10 packets of this really specific food, and some snacks, I’ll be okay. Also is it cool if you go to the grocery store? I can clean the bathroom since thats bad sensory for you and the store is bad sensory for me. Can you turn on the lamp instead of the big light? It gives me a headache. Thanks man. Yea I’ll unplug the TV for you since you can hear the high pitched noise. Do you want to do two separate things in the same room as bonding again this evening? Thats my favorite part of the day too.

I think its funny how much the replies are about The Big Light and how we autistics feel about it

catmask:

okay well heres the bigender allegory character

dat-soldier:

chaumas-deactivated20230115:

Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.

Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.

Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.

You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.

As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.

Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.

This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.

A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.

deadsprout:

At first Netflix said, come write for us. We’ll save your cancelled shows and write about whatever niche story you want. Our algorithm says people will watch it!

Then a few years later they said, regardless of our promises or contract obligations we are cancelling shows after two seasons without telling anyone. Turns out no matter how loved a show is, we get less subscriptions after the second season.

How many subscriptions did we bring you? Netflix won’t say.

So writers started writing two season shows. Just give us two seasons, Netflix. Like you promised.

Then Netflix said, oops sorry! Turns out your show didn’t premiere at #1 and the views in the first day weren’t what we wanted so we’re cancelling your second season.

What were the numbers? How many people watched our show? Netflix doesn’t say.

Then, they did something extra special. They started taking shows and splitting their first season into two halves. Inside Job was not two seasons. It was one season split in half.

Oops! Sorry! The second half of your first season didn’t do as well as the first half, so now your show is cancelled!

Why? How many people? How much money? These companies are making cash hand over fist and they refuse to tell people the truth: people loved your show. Loved it. But some corpo exec wanted an infinite money making machine. Do you know how long shows are in production for before you watch them? Years. Like, 5+, even 10+ years. And Netflix gives it less than a week before they decide whether you’re getting cancelled.

Support #WGA Support #SAGAFTRA

3 comms to go -w- i do have 2 slots open if anybody wants something

finished comm for @zephyrsnoww :D !!!!!

boy-gender:

i want y’all to know i got my top surgery at ~270 pounds and it looks fucking fine like you are not too fat to get top surgery and have it be flat and nice and feel better