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be kind, have fun

@tearsofthemushroom / tearsofthemushroom.tumblr.com

may ~ she/her, he/him ~ 20-something ~ the mitochondria are not the powerhouses of my cells ~ for reasons of security my interests are changed daily

someone put this screenshot in my notes and i wasn't gonna put the op on blast but i cannot stop thinking about it. this is up there as one of the funniest doubling downs i've ever seen. "it's called craft. it's called storytelling." is going to enter my meme vernacular and no one is going to have any idea what i'm talking about. the count of monte cristo shows a clear lack of craft in its wordcount. if only ernest hemingway's editor had killed more of his darlings while he wrote for whom the bell tolls. readers and editors alike are always complaining about how fucking long to kill a mockingbird is.

Valid Jane Austen Novels:

  • Northanger Abbey
  • Persuasion

Kindling:

  • Sense & Sensibility
  • Pride & Prejudice
  • Mansfield Park
  • Emma

Really starting to take this whole austerity shit too far huh.

a theory from @solitarelee in the groupchat last night:

Daily reminder: Transphobia actively contributes to sexism. If you donโ€™t fit the beauty standard and are seen as masculine in any way shape or form, you are seen as transgender and as a โ€œproblemโ€

I think it's incredibly important here to not overlook the fact that she is a Black woman. Transphobia, racism, and sexism overlap significantly because of the incredibly eurocentric beauty standards women are judged on.

I feel sorry for children because they never had the experience of playing games or watching things for free. It's why I think a lot of them don't hate ads as much as people older then them do, they just accepted them as a necessary part of their reality and deal with it because the ads have always been there for them.

When I was 14 and started using wattpad it was still a shitty little fanficiton app and everything on that app was free. E v e r y t h i n g.

You only needed an account and you could download countless books and read them offline whenever you wanted. You could write offline and publish and edit whatever and whenever you wanted. There were no ads, no premium no money involved what so ever. It was the reason why I used it, I used to download (well save to my library) 200 fanfics before my summer vacation because I knew I wouldn't have internet and I wanted to entertain myself, I wrote 7 books and published them for fun because I could write and save while offline and then publish them later if I wanted.

When I opened wattpad after a few years I was first met with "upgrade to premium to download and read unlimited books" and then I was met with an ad in between chapters. I didn't continue I deleted my account and haven't even wanted to download it again.

What capitalism and consumerism did in the last few years has had an affect on everything in such a way that cannot be explained unless you've seen the before. Because now you have these platforms crying and begging you not to use an ad blocker, but that means nothing to me because I know they can function without ads, because I've seen and experienced it. Which is why I do not understand people who pay for these things, but if I grew up in an environment where all of these things were already this obsessed with getting money maybe I wouldn't complain either.

Tldr. children do not have spaces anymore where they're not bombarded with ads and it's sad because they were born into this.

they should invent a special new pulitzer prize for any journalist who manages to cover the trump presidency without doing this:

they could make it award one billion dollars and not worry becuase they would simply never have to pay it out

grim that the ideology of the family is so fundamentally ingrained that even reporting that is appropriately horrified by a legislature passing The Child Molestation Act has to stress that it is extra special super bad because they don't even ask the child's parents for permission to molest them

most of the time. accessibility is about a) diversity of options, and b) autonomy to choose between those options. disabled people should be trusted to know what will work for us. not all disabled people have the same needs. not all disabled people will have the paperwork so many institutions require before youโ€™re allowed to have your needs met. all of these problems could be solved if everything wasnโ€™t so arbitrarily inflexible

My favourite harmless prank I've heard of was done by this girl whose dad was a geologist, and they'd go on day hikes with his geologist friends/co-workers and when she got bored on them she'd habitually pick up a random rock and go ask him what it is, and one of them would explain what kind of a rock that is, how it probably got here, and usually some notions of the more unusual features the rock had, if any.

And she had a friend who had once gone on a tourist trip to Iceland and brought back a volcanic rock. So she borrowed the rock and took it with her on the hike, and after two randomly picked up "hey dad what rock is this", she presented the volcanic rock, in the same fashion as all the others.

3 minutes later there are five middle-aged and older men circled around this mysterious rock, all agreeing on what it is, but not why it is. They keep asking her questions, where did she find it? Were there any other rocks around there that looked like it? Was it like this on the ground? People walking past the group try to stretch their necks to see over the geologists' shoulders to see what's the source of such amazement.

And in the end she couldn't take it anymore, burst into laughter and confessed. The geologists agree that it was pretty clever.

Geologist enrichment

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We have heard your cries, and Poob has it for you!

Brand new profile images are rolling out now, featuring fan favourites All and Nothing from the series All or Nothing. Plus, cult classics like Maliลกa and None Pizza with Left Beef!

I found THE funniest folktale ever (Tatra mountains again) but there is no way I can do it justice in english.

I will try, of course, but I will fail.

the tale is about a man complaining to his wife that he has to work so hard each day and she just stays home and does nothing โ€“ so they switch roles, she goes to work instead and leaves all the household chores to him.

of course he fails at each chore but I cannot stress enough how absolutely badly he fucks it all up.

Man and woman (endearingly chล‚op i baba in the gรณrale dialect) - slight warnings for mentions of animal death and bodily harm, as it usually is in slavic folk tales.

There was a woman. One day her husband complains. The man despairs! Woe, woe, he has to work each day to earn money and she gets to stay home, and that it is unfair. And so the woman agrees and goes to work next day instead and leaves all the household chores for him to do.

She tells him to let the hen and the chicks out but beware the goshawk. He lets them out but does not keep an eye on them: the goshawk steals both the hen and all the chicks.

She tells him to gather hay and grass for the cow to eat and feed her in the barn. He ties the cow to the stake too far from the hay and the cow chokes on her rope trying to get to it.

She tells him to prepare her some food, given she has to work all day away from home: to mill wheat and bake her breakfast, and bring it to her. But he is too caught up in all the chores to be able to do so, and she is left hungry for the entire day.

She told him to bathe their little son Jaล› and to churn fresh butter for the week. He puts the child in the bath and starts to churn the butter, but he forgets he had milk in the pot on the stove for his wifeโ€™s breakfast and it boils over.

He rushes to get the milk and does not mind the child. Jaล› wants to reach the butter and he falls out of the bath: he knocks over the butter churn and put his eye out as he falls.

The man despairs! Woe, woe, no hen and no chicks, no cow and no milk, no butter โ€“ and now his son is hurt, too! He does not know what to do and decides to leave the house and get some wood for the stove instead.

He takes his axe and goes to the forest. On his way there, by the lake, he sees a wild duck! He decides to get her so at least they have duck for supper. He throws his axe at the duckโ€ฆ and it falls into the lake. The duck flies away.

The man despairs! Woe, woe, no duck and no axe. He does not know what to do and decides to undress and lie down to rest after such misfortune. He falls asleep on the lakeโ€™s bank.

But behind the leeve there was a hunter: he was waiting with his rifle to kill the duck for hours, and the man ruined his plan. And so he steals the manโ€™s clothes as he sleeps to have something to bring home at least.

The man despairs! Woe, woe, no clothes to put on at all, and a long way back home through the main road leading to the town. What shame! He sees a horse-drawn cart with hay and sneaks behind it, and hiding behind it he sneaks back home, naked as God made him.

But he feels shame for heโ€™s fully naked, and so he makes his final mistake: he takes some hay from the cart to hide his most shameful bitsโ€ฆ

The woman comes home, tired and hungry. She sees the man sitting by the stove, crying, and she asks him why he did not bring her any food at all. The man despairs! Woe, woe, he cries and cries.

Why are you crying so, the woman asks. I let the hen and the chicks out and the goshawk came and stole them all! Woe, woe, he cries. Do not despair, she says to him, weโ€™ll get another hen and weโ€™ll hatch more chicks. But the man cries.

Why are you crying still, the woman asks. I wanted to feed the cow but I tied her to the stake too far from the hay and she choked and now sheโ€™s gone! Woe, woe, he cries. Do not despair, she says to him, we will get another cow. But the man cries.

Why are you crying still, the woman asks. I drew the bath and churned the butter, but the milk boiled over and the child fell out of the bath and ruined the butter and put his eye out! Woe, woe, he cries. Do not despair, she says to him, at least he wonโ€™t get drafted. But the man cries.

Why are you crying still, the woman asks. I went to the forest to get some wood and I threw my axe at a duck but the duck flew away and the axe fell into the lake and so I laid down undressed to cry and a hunter hiding by the leeve stole all my clothes. Woe, woe, he cries. Do not despair, she says to him, we have some cloth in the chests, I will sew you new clothes. But the man cries.

Why are you crying still, the woman asks.

I had to take the main road to go home and I was naked as God made me, and so I sneaked behind a cart! Woe, woe, he cries, I had to cover my shame with hay so that people would not see!ย 

Woe, woe, he cries.ย 

The horse ate my dick.

The 'lit' effect on the cigarette is little orange beads sewn on. The pinfeathers are also beads sewn on. Baby Smoko is likely a nestling white winged dove, despite being labelled as a "pigeon" in the original stock photo.

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