Sophia, the Boston woman from 1875 who haunts a lamp I got at Brimfield: what is a stay at home girlfriend, if you please?

me: well, it's a woman who's financially supported by the man she's dating, and she lives with him and usually keeps house and cooks for him

her: and they're not married?

me: well, no; hence "girlfriend" rather than "wife." I know that may alarm y-

her: oh calm down I know about Kept Women. he has no legal tie to her, though? she has no sort of standing with him in the eyes of the law? only his word that he'll follow through?

me: yes

her: and remind me again- you don't have to be financially dependent on a man anymore, right? there are more than like three careers open to women that will let you support yourself at a decent level now? and society isn't pressuring you 24/7 to get married and stop working outside the home?

me: yes

her: so these women. CHOOSE to be dependent on a man. who could leave them at any moment without legal consequence. because they don't like their jobs. the jobs, while imperfect, that let them live on their own, answerable to no-one

me: yes

her: that had better be some absolutely amazing jewelry they can pawn off if he leaves them, then

me: it's usually not

her: THERE'S NOT EVEN SECURITY JEWELRY?!

me: oh by the way they blame feminism for "having to work"

her:

her: I became fully dependent on my in-laws who hated me, after my husband died two years into our marriage, because I was a 23-year-old orphan with no marketable skills in any avenue besides Running A Household and the only men left unmarried in my social circle were widowers thirty years my senior. I also couldn't establish lines of credit as a widow because the merchants said my husband dying so soon meant that I didn't have stable enough income. and that was entirely legal

me: yeah

her: I'm going to go slam some doors please do not bother me

Stop giving men the ability to ruin your life 2k25

Not the point of this post but I'm endlessly amused that Tumblr has rediscovered ghosts as a cultural metaphor for confronting the horrors of the present through the lens of the past in meme format. The essays I could write-

🇺🇸tony's chocolonely chocolate bar recall due to rocks🇺🇸

literally, due to rocks. they got rocks in them

april 2, 2025

emphasis mine.

this recall only affects some lots of the dark almond sea salt bar and the everything bar, due to the rock problem. they were distributed nationwide in stores and on the internet. I included their pictures at the top.

I am not able to format a table for tumblr, so check that recall link for the specific lot codes and expiration dates.

they found rocks after there were 12 reports that said hey. there are rocks in this. this can easily lead to dental problems if someone tries to bite full force on a rock and breaks a tooth or otherwise injures their mouth. dental infections can eventually become life-threatening even in people who are young and otherwise healthy. so it is a good thing nobody apparently ate the rocks yet. or at least, nobody got injured while potentially eating rocks. yet

emphasis mine.

please do not the rocks. thank you

We talk a lot about physical media preservation and I support it, but cartridges, tapes, even hard drives have a limited lifespan. Formats die incredibly fast. There's no guarantee that the digital formats we use today will be readable a century from today, Let alone decades. I hate The Cloud and the recent events with the Internet Archive have shown how fragile internet archiving is, but I guess it's a demonstration; if you want to archive something, the best way is to make copies of it, in abundance. This is the way all literature has been passed down to us, and fortunately, the internet is very good at making copies.

Once in an ethnobotany congress I asked a doctor from Colombia what was the best way to preserve a seed bank in her opinion. She answered me "the best way to preserve seeds is to plant them and use them"

Yes, this is where I was getting at. In the case of books, for example, it's very well that they're digitalized, but they also should be reprinted ocasionally and in numbers to interested parties. We have lots of ancient and not so ancient but still rare texts that are known by extremely fragile and fragmentary manuscripts and books. They should be reprinted.

There's also other issues. For example, in the case of media, each dub is a unique experience. I'm sure you will always find say, Ed Edd n' Eddy somewhere, but what about the Latin American dub? There should be efforts to save those things too. I think there should be lots of little archives for people interested in such things.

stop eating turkish delight with the witch in white and come eat hummus with mr. tumnus

It's here! It's here! Go watch it right now!!!

:(

I'd like to seest thou solveth THIS Puzzle!

The Rouxls art Simple: Thou must Drawest a Line that passeth througheth Each and Every Doore one singular time - BUT! The line cannot passeth through any Doore Twice!

Now, Toil and Despair at the Magnitude of my Puzzle!

give me a harder one next time

GOD

DAMNIT

I also did it a different way Sir Rouxls

FINE! Let'st seeth thou haveth thyself a crack at THIS Puzzle! As you can seeth, there art now a Lesser Amounte of Doorse. Thust, thouse options haveth now been diminished EXPONENTIALESTLY! Oh, whatstoever wiltst you doeth nowe? I can alreadye feel thou're Fragile Minde WRITHINGE in Paine and Agonye! GEH HEH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!!! eth

What do I win?

WHAT!? Thou, thou... thou CHEATER! Thou can'st possibly have solvedeth mine Puzzle that quickly! Thou CHEATEDETHED! CHEATER!

Ahhhhhh... 'Tis no matter. Even IFST thou cheateth, thou will NEVER makest it pasth mine ULTIMATE PUZZLE!

There art only ONE possible Solutione, out of HUNDREDTHS of Optionse! Thou wilt be Screamingeth and Cryingest aseth thou faileth to solveth iteth!

It art UTTERLY HOPELESS! HAVE AT YE!

...

Fuck you

🍀 Human Smurfstorm (Redo)

The toughest girl in Smurfy groove! I went back and overhauled my design for Storm and gave her something that matches her personality and OG look better.

dude youre making this vivisection really difficult can you just like stay still

what the fuck happens in danny phantom.

["op was this. not about danny phantom / because if not: wild"]

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS IN DANNY PHANTOM?!?!?!?

coming from someone who used to sweat buckets over saving and spending 45 bucks on a new video game as a teenager i cannot fucking believe nintendo has the audacity to charge 90 (ninety) (as many as nine tens, and that’s terrible) mother fucking dollars for their new games. if i had a 90 dollar game on my christmas list as a kid my mom would have broken me in half

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” said the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back!”

“Be logical,” said the scorpion. “If I stung you I’d certainly drown myself.”

“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Climb aboard, then!” But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown. “Why on earth did you do that?” the frog said morosely. “Now we’re both going to die.” 

“I can’t help it,” said the scorpion. “It’s my nature.”

___

…But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the frog felt a subtle motion on its back, and in a panic dived deep beneath the rushing waters, leaving the scorpion to drown.

“It was going to sting me anyway,” muttered the frog, emerging on the other side of the river. “It was inevitable. You all knew it. Everyone knows what those scorpions are like. It was self-defense.”

___

…But no sooner had they cast off from the bank, the frog felt the tip of a stinger pressed lightly against the back of its neck. “What do you think you’re doing?” said the frog.

“Just a precaution,” said the scorpion. “I cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”

They swam in silence to the other end of the river, where the scorpion climbed off, leaving the frog fuming.

“After the kindness I showed you!” said the frog. “And you threatened to kill me in return?”

“Kindness?” said the scorpion. “To only invite me on your back after you knew I was defenseless, unable to use my tail without killing myself? My dear frog, I only treated you as I was treated. Your kindness was as poisoned as a scorpion’s sting.”

___

…“Just a precaution,” said the scorpion. “I cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”

“You have a point,” the frog acknowledged. “But once we get to dry land, couldn’t you sting me then without repercussion?”

“All I want is to cross the river safely,” said the scorpion. “Once I’m on the other side I would gladly let you be.”

“But I would have to trust you on that,” said the frog. “While you’re pressing a stinger to my neck. By ferrying you to land I’d be be giving up the one deterrent I hold over you.”

“But by the same logic, I can’t possibly withdraw my stinger while we’re still over water,” the scorpion protested.

The frog paused in the middle of the river, treading water. “So, I suppose we’re at an impasse.”

The river rushed around them. The scorpion’s stinger twitched against the frog’s unbroken skin. “I suppose so,” the scorpion said.

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Absolutely not!” said the frog, and dived beneath the waters, and so none of them learned anything.

___

A scorpion, being unable to swim, asked a turtle (as in the original Persian version of the fable) to carry it across the river. The turtle readily agreed, and allowed the scorpion aboard its shell. Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtle’s thick shell. The turtle, swimming placidly, failed to notice.

They reached the other side of the river, and parted ways as friends.

___

…Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtle’s thick shell.

The turtle, hearing the tap of the scorpion’s sting, was offended at the scorpion’s ungratefulness. Thankfully, having been granted the powers to both defend itself and to punish evil, the turtle sank beneath the waters and drowned the scorpion out of principle.

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” sneered the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back.”

The scorpion pleaded earnestly. “Do you think so little of me? Please, I must cross the river. What would I gain from stinging you? I would only end up drowning myself!”

“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Even a scorpion knows to look out for its own skin. Climb aboard, then!”

But as they forged through the rushing waters, the scorpion grew worried. This frog thinks me a ruthless killer, it thought. Would it not be justified in throwing me off now and ridding the world of me? Why else would it agree to this? Every jostle made the scorpion more and more anxious, until the frog surged forward with a particularly large splash, and in panic the scorpion lashed out with its stinger.

“I knew it,” snarled the frog, as they both thrashed and drowned. “A scorpion cannot change its nature.”

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. The frog agreed, but no sooner than they were halfway across the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown.

“I’ve only myself to blame,” sighed the frog, as they both sank beneath the waters. “You, you’re a scorpion, I couldn’t have expected anything better. But I knew better, and yet I went against my judgement! And now I’ve doomed us both!”

“You couldn’t help it,” said the scorpion mildly. “It’s your nature.” 

___

…“Why on earth did you do that?” the frog said morosely. “Now we’re both going to die.”

“Alas, I was of two natures,” said the scorpion. “One said to gratefully ride your back across the river, and the other said to sting you where you stood. And so both fought, and neither won.” It smiled wistfully. “Ah, it would be nice to be just one thing, wouldn’t it? Unadulterated in nature. Without the capacity for conflict or regret.”

___

“By the way,” said the frog, as they swam, “I’ve been meaning to ask: What’s on the other side of the river?”

“It’s the journey,” said the scorpion. “Not the destination.”

___

…“What’s on the other side of anything?” said the scorpion. “A new beginning.”

___

…”Another scorpion to mate with,” said the scorpion. “And more prey to kill, and more living bodies to poison, and a forthcoming lineage of cruelties that you will be culpable in.”

___

…”Nothing we will live to see, I fear,” said the scorpion. “Already the currents are growing stronger, and the river seems like it shall swallow us both. We surge forward, and the shoreline recedes. But does that mean our striving was in vain?”

___

“I love you,” said the scorpion.

The frog glanced upward. “Do you?”

“Absolutely. Can you imagine the fear of drowning? Of course not. You’re a frog. Might as well be scared of breathing air. And yet here I am, clinging to your back, as the waters rage around us. Isn’t that love? Isn’t that trust? Isn’t that necessity? I could not kill you without killing myself. Are we not inseparable in this?”

The frog swam on, the both of them silent.

___

“I’m so tired,” murmured the frog eventually. “How much further to the other side? I don’t know how long we’ve been swimming. I’ve been treading water. And it’s getting so very dark.”

“Shh,” the scorpion said. “Don’t be afraid.”

The frog’s legs kicked out weakly. “How long has it been? We’re lost. We’re lost! We’re doomed to be cast about the waters forever. There is no land. There’s nothing on the other side, don’t you see!”

“Shh, shh,” said the scorpion. “My venom is a hallucinogenic. Beneath its surface, the river is endlessly deep, its currents carrying many things.” 

“You - You’ve killed us both,” said the frog, and began to laugh deliriously. “Is this - is this what it’s like to drown?” 

“We’ve killed each other,” said the scorpion soothingly. “My venom in my glands now pulsing through your veins, the waters of your birthing pool suffusing my lungs. We are engulfing each other now, drowning in each other. I am breathless. Do you feel it? Do you feel my sting pierced through your heart?”

“What a foolish thing to do,” murmured the frog. “No logic. No logic to it at all.”

“We couldn’t help it,” whispered the scorpion. “It’s our natures. Why else does anything in the world happen? Because we were made for this from birth, darling, every moment inexplicable and inevitable. What a crazy thing it is to fall in love, and yet - It’s all our fault! We are both blameless. We’re together now, darling. It couldn’t have happened any other way.”

___

“It’s funny,” said the frog. “I can’t say that I trust you, really. Or that I even think very much of you and that nasty little stinger of yours to begin with. But I’m doing this for you regardless. It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s strange. Why would I do this? I want to help you, want to go out of my way to help you. I let you climb right onto my back! Now, whyever would I go and do a foolish thing like that?”

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” said the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back!”

“Be logical,” said the scorpion. “If I stung you I’d certainly drown myself.”  

“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Come aboard, then!” But no sooner had the scorpion mounted the frog’s back than it began to sting, repeatedly, while still safely on the river’s bank.

The frog groaned, thrashing weakly as the venom coursed through its veins, beginning to liquefy its flesh. “Ah,” it muttered. “For some reason I never considered this possibility.”

“Because you were never scared of me,” the scorpion whispered in its ear. “You were never scared of dying. In a past life you wore a shell and sat in judgement. And then you were reborn: soft-skinned, swift, unburdened, as new and vulnerable as a child, moving anew through a world of children. How could anyone ever be cruel, you thought, seeing the precariousness of it all?” The scorpion bowed its head and drank. “How could anyone kill you without killing themselves?”

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river.

“To be honest,” said the desert rain frog. “I’m the wrong kind of frog for that.”

“Oh,” said the scorpion.

“I was hoping to find someone to carry me across, myself.” It admitted.

“Oh,” The scorpion said. “Well, we can wait together.”

And they sat, and spoke, and when a turtle happened to pass along, they both ventured together, and the scorpion was too busy sharing words to ever think of stinging.

—

“Actually,” said the scorpion, as it climbed onto the frog’s back, “My sting is harmless.”

“Oh really?” Said the frog, as it began to swim.

“Yes,” the scorpion waved the small stinger about. “The poison is useless to anything larger than a beetle. I can’t threaten you with it at all, you see, so you don’t really need to worry about it at all.”

The frog, now freed from the fear of death, began preparing to dive.

“Although,” the scorpion continued as it felt the frog slow down, “do not think me entirely defenceless.”

“Why not?” Said the frog. “All you have is your claws. And they aren’t sharp enough to pierce my skin.”

“No, they are not,” agreed the scorpion, getting a good hold of the frog’s shoulders. “But they are strong. They need to be, to hold my prey so my weak venom has time to work.”

“But they will not kill me.”

“No. But there are other ways to hurt.” The scorpion tightened its grip, letting the teeth of its claws sink into the skin.

“You will drown me, of course, but my claws will remain locked. My drowned corpse will hang over your shoulders, right here, claws buried in you. And everyone who sees you will see it. And they will see my frail little body, and my weak little stinger. And you will drown me, yes, but for the rest of your life everyone will know that you took the life of a creature that was no danger to you for no greater sin than that you did not want to grant them passage. You will never escape the weight of me on your back, waiting to be carried to the afterlife you delivered me to.”

The frog was silent, for a while, before it continued to swim. “I think I would have preferred you with a stinger that worked.”

The scorpion relaxed its grip. “And I would have preferred to not have to use it.”

—

“Do you know how many times we’ve done this?” Asked the frog, eyes flicking back to its passenger. “I can’t remember how long it’s been.”

“A million lives.” Purred the scorpion, claws nestled up to the frog’s neck. “A million lives now, with this one. And it never matters until we’re here.”

“I’m glad it’s us.” Said the frog, letting the tide sweep it away. “I’m glad even after a million lives, we always find each other.”

The scorpion clung tight, even as the water seeped into its carapace. “I’d never die with anyone else, my love.”

Hopelessly entangled, they faded into oblivion.

—

A chicken stood at the edge of a road, watching the cars go by.

“Is this all there is?” It asked.

“I don’t know.” Said the fox across from it, brushing some grass from it’s foot.

“But it might be nice to find out.”

—

-but no sooner had the frog gotten halfway across the river did a great catfish rise up, mouth so wide they could not escape.

“Oh, foolish frog and foolish bug.” It said, voice full of pity as it swallowed them both. “Your eyes glued to the most obvious threat, did you never think there were greater things to fear in a river as deep and wide as this?”

And the catfish swam off, to find more frogs to devour.

—

“Sorry?” The scorpion paused, confused. “Sting you? Why on earth would I do that?

“Well,” said the frog. “It’s in your nature to, isn’t it?”

“No, not at all!” The scorpion said, voice tinged with insult. “We don’t run around stabbing everything we see. That’s a good way to start a fight you can’t win. A stinger is just for catching food and fending off predators, really. It’s no more my nature to sting everything as it is your nature to drown everything. And you don’t do that, do you!”

The frog scowled, petulant at the tone. “Well, the scorpion I usually see here almost always stings me…”

“That seems like you’re projecting problems with one scorpion onto every scorpion you meet.” Said the scorpion. “I’m not really sure I trust you to take me across the river, frankly. Do you know if there’s another frog who could help?”

The frog grumbled, and slipped into the water.

—

The chicken stood on the banks of the river with it’s children. A fox sat on the other bank, with a bag of corn.

“Hoy, chicken.” Shouted the fox. “Do you ever think you might be stuck in a rut?”

“What’s it to you?” The chicken said, flapping a wing in annoyance. “My life is my own business, fox.”

The fox shrugged, pawing at the corn. “I just feel like I can’t get out of this cycle,” it said with a sigh. “Like my life is stuck on rails.”

—

“On rails?” The scorpion asked. “What do you mean?”

“My whole life is just this river-”

—

“This road-”

—

“This boat-”

—

“And it feels like it doesn’t change. It feels like I’m always just here. In the river, with you.”

—

“Is it such a bad place to be?” Asked the fox.

“With me?”

—

“How long do you think the river has been here?” Asked the scorpion.

The frog thought about that until the poison had seeped into its bones.

“As long as us,” it whispered, as its lungs gave out. “As long as we’ve needed it.”

—

“You’re not swimming right.” Said the scorpion, pinching the frog’s arm.

“You need to kick round with the back legs, push with the front, like this-” gently, it pushed the frog’s limbs into the correct position.

“Oh, thank you.” Said the frog. “I’m no good at this. I’ve never been a frog before.”

“You’re doing brilliantly, my dear.” The scorpion said, trying to reassure. “I would have taught you earlier if I could have.”

“And I would have taught you to walk.” The frog laughed, kicking much stronger now. “If only I’d known you didn’t know! I saw you stumbling over the sands there.”

“I’ve never had so many legs!” The scorpion wailed. “How do you manage them all? And the eyes!”

They were not making it across the river very fast.

“I don’t mind only having two eyes.” The frog admitted. “I could get used to it.”

Despite the tutoring, the frog was getting exhausted, weak muscles failing in strong currents.

The scorpion tried to kick at the water, but its frail carapace only dredged in the currents, dragging them both down further.

“Oh, we’re no good at it this way around.” The scorpion said with a shake of its tail, claws clinging so strongly to the frog’s gossamer skin that it ripped open, spilling the entrails like ruby ribbons into the depths.

The frog laughed, choking on the water it didn’t know how to breathe. “I can’t swim, and you won’t sting! Oh, how our natures fail us still!”

And the river claimed them both once more.

—

“Do you remember a time before the riverbank?” Asked the fox.

“Do you remember anything after it?” The Chicken countered, head stuck in the bag of corn as it ate its fill. “Is there anything but the pursuit of what we will never grasp?”

“Maybe we will grasp it,” the fox’s voice was tinged with hope, tail tucked tightly around its legs. “Maybe one day, we will be more than our natures, and we will not have to cross the river again.”

“I like the thrill of it.” Said the chicken. “I’d miss the thrill of it.”

The fox sighed, and lowered its head down to the chicken, already doomed to bite. “But still, wouldn’t it be nice?”

—

But alas, the rains had been heavy, and the river bank had become swollen and wide.

The frog kicked for what felt like an eternity, the scorpion holding steady on its back.

Eventually it could swim no longer, and its legs seized up, as it gasped for air.

“I’m sorry, my love-” the frog wheezed. “I don’t think I can make it-”

“It’s okay.” The scorpion’s voice was soft with sadness, knowing now that it was doomed to die. “I didn’t know it would be so hard. I’m sorry I did this to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“It’s not your fault,” said the frog, as the currents began to sweep them both downstream. “I wanted to help, I- I really thought I could get you there, I, we were so close -”

“We really were, weren’t we?” The scorpion’s hold on the frog was loosening, as its head swam from lack of oxygen. “We almost made it, we really did…”

The frog wailed in grief as the scorpion’s body was torn away, swallowed by the churning rapids.

—

A scorpion walked across an old riverbed. The smooth pebbles had long laid bare, the river dried up thousands of years ago.

It paused in the middle, overcome with a strange pain in its chest, and decided to turn back.

It felt wrong to cross this river alone.

—

“Where do you think the cars go?” Asked the fox.

The chicken watched a car drive by, seeing the shadowy shapes move within. “I try not to think about it. I want to be happy with my lot in life.”

—

-and no sooner had the frog gotten halfway across the river when the scorpion tapped its stinger against the frog’s back to get its attention.

“Hey,” said the scorpion. “I’m not really in that much of a rush, and it’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we just go up the river instead? I’ve always wanted to try standing on a lilypad.”

“Sure, if you’d like.” Said the frog. “I don’t have any plans for the day.

And while the river remained uncrossed, neither of them were unhappy about this.

—

“When did you know you loved me?” Asked the turtle, as the scorpion clung onto its back, hiding from the deep currents of the river.

The scorpion winced as a wave shook them. “Oh, from the start.” it said, shaking water from its tail. “Or near enough. I’d never met a frog before. And even though you didn’t know me, you laid your life on the line for me. For hope that the impossible was possible.”

The turtle considered that, thinking back across its many lives.

“I don’t think I knew I loved you until recently.” The turtle admitted, lifting its head from the water so its voice could be soft. “It took time, I think, to know. But that said, why else would I come back, time and time again to the same spot of the same river?”

“You have a world of rivers you could be in, my love.” The scorpion agreed. “And yet I always wait for you here. And you always come.”

“I’ve never been as vulnerable as I’ve been with you.” Even as the water licked up its shell, the turtle continued to swim. “I’d never trust my life to anyone else.”

“Here’s to us,” said the scorpion, raising its stinger. “And the river.”

“Here’s to us.” Said the turtle, raising a flipper to sting. “I hope we always find each other.”

—

“Well here we are,” said the frog to the scorpion. “The other side.”

“Here we are.” The scorpion agreed, slowly climbing off its back. “Thank you, for all of this.”

“Thank you for choosing me.” Said the frog. “Thank you for chaining my lives together. For helping me remember the infinity of Us.”

The scorpion didn’t answer, simply looking up, letting the sun warm its carapace.

“I’ve never really left the river.” The frog took another step onto the bank. “It’s… nice.”

The scorpion turned. For a moment, the frog felt the surge of adrenaline as it felt a pinch on its skin, only to find the scorpion had clasped its claw around their hand. “Come with me.” It pleaded, voice soft with urgency. “Come with me, and don’t say no. I won’t leave this river without you. We can see the other side together.”

Those claws could slice, but they were only firm. The river was only the river. But from the banks the frog could see a jungle of lush green, vibrant with life beyond its knowledge. It laughed. “I’ve always wondered what it was like out there.”

—

And the river was silent, with no moral questions to burden it.

That’s because i only added this bit this morning. I think its pretty good

I think it’s beautiful. thank you for making this

[image: a tag: “this is one of my favorite posts of all time but I’ve never seen this version of it”]

Official Time Loop Post

I’ve been listening to the people in the apartment below me have arguments for two years now and I still can’t figure out what language they’re speaking. The best I can narrow it down is like if Portuguese and Hebrew had a baby. Is that a common pidgin combination

I just listened to a clip of this and jesus christ you fucking got it. there are like 3500 people in the whole united states who speak this and two of them are in a very fraught marriage four feet below me

matt just fired half the remaining tumblr support staff lmao

from my sources adjacent to tumblr--from which i can spread rumors and insider information freely because i dont give a fuck about ever working in the tech sector--im hearing this round of firings was focused on purging the senior staff, and not just from support but from the entire remaining tumblr workforce. i'm hearing there are about 25 people left.

Given that Trump imposed tariffs on several uninhabited islands and oceanic territories, I think they had an intern look up the Wikipedia list of countries and make a spreadsheet.

Sometimes I'll see people nag on Valerie Gray for being "kinda mean" and "never owning up for anything (citation needed)", but they never seem to say a single word about Sam Manson despite them both being the same age and serving similar roles in the show, hmm

For the most part, Valerie Gray has every reason to be "kinda mean". When you're a literal child and your entire status quo gets changed overnight, you are gonna be kinda pissed!

Not only did her and her family suddenly become poor because of her dad being demoted, but she lost her entire friend group because of those surface level connections- they only liked her for her money and had absolutely zero empathy for her.

And she blames ghosts for her misfortune, because without the information we as the audience knows, she feels fully justified in her actions.

I'm not saying she should be absolved of any wrong doing...but you people seriously need to use your brains sometimes.

Meanwhile Sam comes from a very privileged life and looks down on people, and you'd think the show would explore those negative aspects of her more often but...they really don't?

I think both characters would benefit from further character development— but Valerie Gray was one of the few characters who actually had an arc and development...so people saying she LACKS it is insane? Did we watch the same show??

Just say you hate black people please. Just get it out of your system. Please.

"Valerie is a bully to Danny though!!"

They're literally friends, they like each other. What. If anything Sam is more of a bully towards Danny but I'm not gonna die on that hill because bullying is far more than just being slightly mean to somebody once or twice

Also I feel like a hypocrite because ive criticize Sam Manson several times but like...it gets to the point where some of yall are getting mad at stupid children for being stupid children

I just think its fucked up that any valid critiques on Sam's character gets flooded with people calling me a woman hater for not liking one specific female character out of the several in the show-

But when theres a character who has nearly identical behaviors to her (being rude, sorta antagonistic, sometimes has a 'better than you' attitude, is one of the main lead's love interests) and coincidentally just so happens to be black, suddenly everyone is on the same page. It blows my damn mind.