Wonders never cease

we're going to have an OLDER BROTHER summer. we will be drinking MONSTER. we will be LIFTING WEIGHTS. we will be ignoring our MOM. we will be surviving off of CHIPS and NOODLES. we will NOT be SHOWERING. we will only be putting on AXE DEODORANT. we will be bothering PRETTY WOMEN and getting REJECTED. OLDER BROTHER SUMMER !!

When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.

And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.

I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.

I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anyway.

And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.

Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?

I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could knit me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.

So my mom found the next best thing.

The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.

And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.

...

Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?

A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.

She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.

And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.

acne + scratch marks

new rule you have to live to be 34. you cant kill yourself until you turn 34. jesus died at 33 you can do better

this is a common law btw. you can check it out by looking up 'rule 34'

Dear God there's pussy here

That’s the other reason you can’t kill yourself

beta server stress test going on so we are now the beatles

HELP

saddest thing that can happen is a cat so delicately and cozy putting their small apple head on your leg like a pillow to sleep while fully unaware that in like five minutes you're going to get up to go eat because they don't know human language or how time works

Me, having been immobile for three hours: hmm I should get up and pee

The world’s tiniest angel: time for snomgol my mommi :)

everyone get unemployed. i will provide for us.

I love how safe everyone in the comments feels about being entirely dependant on a potentially psychopathic benefactor 😁

im nice…..

He’s literally nice

I cannot tell what you're trying to say to me but this is my favorite ask I've ever gotten. What

You ARE gender identity

i dont think im prepared to take on that responsibility

always remember gay men are the reason we dont have to pay for public bathrooms in canada

WAIT HUH??? IM CANADIAN????? WHY HAVE I NEVER HEARS ABOUT THIS UNTIL NOW??????

two gay men got arrested for fucking in a public bathroom but they argued since you had to pay for it it was a hotel and it was fine. their defence worked and we dont have to pay for bathrooms anymore

Ok guys I know we want to celebrate victories in queer history but

1. Googling "Canada gay sex pay toilets" just brings up a bunch of reblogs of this post

2. There does not seem to have been any sort of norm of public toilets in Canada charging money to use in the 20th century

3. I am neither Canadian nor a lawyer but I find it extremely hard to believe that there is any jurisdiction on earth where charging money to use a public toilet makes it legally constitute a hotel room and therefore OK to have sex in.

thats because i lied about this

2 genres of fanfiction:

1) put that guy into situations

2) take that guy OUT of situations for the love of GOD let them REST 

#you put the sad guy in #you take the sad guy out #you put the sad guy in and you shake him all about

Have an electrician over today & he comes through from the kitchen like 'i was looking at that poster on your wall wondering how I hadn't heard of the movie so I googled it. What is the point. Is it just there to catch people out.' And I'm like, well,

Well,

My boss, who is a grown woman with children my age, just whispered, “Oh, this is going to be so fucking efficient,” before spraying Febreze directly into the ceiling fan and proceeding to cough her guts out when it blew back in her face.

“This is going to be so fucking efficient” should be the new “hold my beer”

the long awaited sequel

Switching between these every day

I’m watching Splash (1984) which is a romcom about a guy who falls in love with a mermaid, and when she chooses a human name she chooses Madison and guy says “that’s not a real name, but alright” which seems to imply that Madison was not a name until at least the 80’s and all girls named Madison are actually named after the mermaid. thought you should know

I think...you might be right

what the fuck