Yes, no, maybe so...

Mark Carney, Prime Minister of Canada.

Generations of damage. For Putin.

you ever listen to a song 47 times in a row and every time you’re like wow what a good song. I’m gonna play it again.

Mouse Armor by Jeff De Boer

I love his stated intention behind these projects, ‘Confuse historians’.

By Hannah Hillam

Unexpected journey.

A co-worker of mine was standing outside with me during a break from customers to share a cigarette with me, and told me about how he had lost his brother that he was close with some years ago. He told me about how they used to be in a band together with some friends, and how ever since he'd died, he hadn't played any music because he'd been too scared and anxious. I told him about how I'd lost my brother to suicide some years ago.

I went home and pulled out an old tiny wooden box my brother had given me before he'd died. I'd been using it to store guitar picks I'd collected over the years, including one guitar pick that used to be his. I haven't played the guitar since he'd died, my hands are too small to play some of the chords, so I play bass and piano instead.

I went to work the next day and gifted my brothers old guitar pick to my co-worker. I told him that it'd been sitting in a box for ten years unused, and would probably sit there for longer if I kept it there. Told him that I thought he deserved to have it, because I bet he could put it to better use than I ever would. Told him I didn't feel like it was coincidence that me and him would cross paths with each other in our lives, and that it seemed suiting that we had these similar experiences but split in two halves. That somehow, I felt like he was meant to have the guitar pick. I told him that I knew he'd not played guitar since his brother died, but that if he ever decided to play again one of these days, maybe he'd be able to honor both of our brothers by using that guitar pick.

He almost cried. He thanked me. Then he went home that night and for the first time in years he played the guitar.

I don't know what the meaning of life is or what my purpose is, but I do believe that love and human connection is one of the most important things in life. It's finding ways to tell strangers you love them and share experiences with others. I think it's all just about love.

Easy entertainment

And poor.

All you have to do is look at how stupid the people are who support them, to understand why they want to ensure that more stupid people are created.

If not for the stupid people, Republicans -- and certainly Trump -- would never win elections.

No wonder MAGA hates democracy/elections: Democrats are flipping long-held Republican seats.

talking about Rosie The Riveter, fun fact: while the We Can Do It picture has become the most-well known depiction of her in modern times, it wasn’t really a famous image when it was made–in fact, it wasn’t even intended to be her

the most famous depiction of Rosie The Riveter during WWII was probably Norman Rockwell’s painting 

note what she’s resting her foot on

i fully support anti-fascist/anti-nazi butch lesbian rosie the riveter

The original Rockwell painting is in the Crystal Bridges museum in Bentonville, AR. My wife and I visited not knowing that and we came around a corner and there’s Rosie. It was fantastic. It’s my wife’s favorite painting, she just stood there forever taking it in.

Hands up if you like to sit in unusual places, scream at people because you want extra attention, or both.

Okay, so. Yesterday, my spouse's cat (my beloved, furry stepdaughter) was suddenly very sick. Spouse had the car on the opposite end of the state for work, so I walked down the road to the local vet. Unfortunately, she needed to be rushed to the emergency vet in the next town over, so I had to order an Uber and cross my fingers.

Enter Donald, a gay Puerto Rican man who rolls up in an electric Kia with a rainbow Zelda shirt. I know he is Puerto Rican because that is the theme of his car's decor. He's probably in his late forties. He's gushing over the cat but his demeanor changes when I tell him how sick she is and how I need to get her to the ER. He solemnly informs me, "I'll take care of it," and RIPS out of the parking lot of my building.

Dude is flooring it. The entire time he is sending his husband text-to-speech messages about, "Going to the vet, do you want me to go in and talk to them?" He informs me that he actually needed to go speak to the vet at this clinic anyway--his dog who he just had to put down yesterday went there for renal failure treatments--and that "fate brought us together." He tells the cat to hang in there, that, "Girl, I will take care of you."

He turns on his emergency blinkers. He's weaving through traffic like he used to professionally race. Any gap he sees, he takes it. It is terrifying but I am in awe.

We get to blocked traffic because it is rush hour. He asks me if I trust him. I tell him, "I guess I have to in this situation," and he nods and swings into the shoulder, guns it, whips around the traffic, and takes off on a side road. The GPS means nothing to him. He knows exactly where he's going and he is beating the traffic jams for the sake of the cat. She can't wait.

When we pull into the vet clinic, he goes in with me. As my cat is taken in, he asks me if I want to see pictures of his late dog. He shows me a picture of a chihuahua in a bow tie and it is the cutest fucking dog I've ever seen. He tells me how his husband is a dog trainer and the dog had been around the world, and that this vet is a good one and my cat will be fine.

I compliment his shirt and he nods like Arnold at the end of Terminator 2. Then he just marches out the door.

Anyway. The cat is staying overnight at the emergency vet but seems to be doing fine aside from not wanting to eat. Apparently, this is a $2.5k case of "your cat has a cold and is constipated, and what you thought was respiratory distress was her gagging on snot while nauseous." We pick her up sometime today.

Wherever you are, thank you, Donald. My spouse left you a tip higher than the cost of the trip because you are awesome and your dedication to our cat was inspiring. 10/10, I would endanger myself on the road with you again.

Hi real quick does anyone have the cat gif that goes like this

Found and saved one from this very hellsite:

Jeff is the head editor at Atlantica Magazine, but he hasn’t been writing much. The Tromp administration is hard to get a beat on, throwing out so much absurdity that it feels like nothing even matters anymore. He wants a story that will make a difference, and it’s not as if those just fall into your lap. But when Jeff’s phone suddenly buzzes with a new text message, that’s exactly what happens. Now Jeff is privy to a chat thread of top-secret information from Tromp’s under-qualified, highly-ignorant inner circle, and it’s looking like a real story. It’s also looking like a total hunk. Soon enough, Jeff and the physical manifestation of this egregiously handled group text containing highly sensitive government information are locked in the heat of gay, erotic passion, and he’s about to pound out a story that he never could’ve imagined. This erotic tale is 4,100 words of sizzling human on gay physically manifested leaked text action, including anal, blowjobs, rough sex, and living group chat love.

----

please enjoy new tingler JOURNALIST POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF AN EGREGIOUSLY MISHANDLED GROUP TEXT FROM MEMBERS OF THE TROMP ADMINISTRATION CONTAINING HIGHLY SENSITIVE GOVERNMENT INFORMATION out now here or on patreon

I hope Jeffery Goldberg sees this. Better yet, that he READS it!

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

Oh hey! Haven’t seen this in forever! Didn’t reblog it when it came across me before, not gonna skip it this time, I need some good vibes.