i will literally never forget the senior year of my american politics degree. our professor did a show of hands for who was going to vote in the election and i was one of 4 people in a 60 person class that raised mine. “both candidate were bad” and it didn’t matter because we were in a blue state anyway, right? the day after the election, the little brother of a friend got called a racial epithet and beat up at school. it was the first incident of that kind in that school in years–the first of many since. my friend didn’t vote in that election. both candidates were bad, after all.
i think what she didn’t get, what most people don’t get is that voting isn’t about you. it isn’t. it’s about the society we’re trying to have here, the society you are a part of no matter how nihilistic you think you are. you’re never too good for kindness. this is the most basic test of that.
so i’m begging you: vote for people that don’t have a vote because they got illegally purged from voter rolls. vote for the environment. vote for kids that are going to have to deal with this stuff for the next 80 years. vote for the lgbt community. vote because it’s better than nothing. vote because if you don’t and then you turn around and complain about anything wrong with this country, you’ve given up your best shot at doing a goddamn thing about it. if nothing else, vote for spite. vote to scare them. here’s a post that has every piece of information you need to vote tomorrow. please do it. it’s not about you or about your single vote making a difference. it’s about caring enough for the weak and underrepresented in this society enough to do your best by them.
you have to at least try.
I know I’ve been pounding this drum nonstop for months now. And guess what? I’m tired of it too! But I’m frankly terrified and I have been for two years, so here I go again: bang bang bang, please help fix this nightmare!
I see many Winnie the Poohs at the hospital (aka Winnie aka Pooh aka Pooh Bear), as you may guess. Many look like this, a bit flat and with small wounds, designed to have a removable shirt:
They come for spas:
New hearts and stuffing:
And plumping up so they have a proper belly again:
Sometimes they look like this:
A bit more loved… or as his person said, in more “desperate condition”.
He also had a spa (not everyone does):
As you may’ve noticed, he needed a new nose and there were several options:
His heart had a pooh on it as well as some magic from a heffalump:
And after a bit of arm and smile surgery, soon he was healthy and ready to fly home:
His person wrote “He looks wonderful!”
The final Pooh I’m going to show you today just flew home yesterday. He is always called Pooh Bear. He is 14 years old and showed every year of hugs.
Here are the photos his person’s mom sent for diagnosis:
As you can see, Pooh Bear was a bit flat and a bit gray. He came in for a spa:
Got new stuffing and a magical Heffalump heart to preserve a bit of his original stuffing:
And finally was clean and plump and fluffy and ready to fly home:
He could even sit on his own! His people said his chubbiness was perfect and as I said, he flew home yesterday!
anyways we’ve been brainwashed into thinking aliens are gonna be violent because main stream sci fi is written by whites who project their own weird ass fantasies of European colonization into these stories about aliens where the aliens are the colonizers. I know aliens are gonna treat us right except the whites cuz I’m still snitchin on y’all to them
I didn’t write Remember Me for the world. I wrote it for Coco. We used to sing it every night, at the same time. No matter how far apart we were. What I wouldn’t give to sing it to her… one… last… time.
i just got out-gayed at my own university and i want my tuition back, right now.
h o w d i d t h a t e v e n happen ? you’re the gayest gay to ever gay
I was robbed let me paint you a little picture. So it’s fuckin bingo night and I’m losing every game. I’m feeling sad and I really want to win one of the snack basket prizes but I have a terrible sheet. I’m considering giving up after my roommate leaves but they announce that the final competition for the last snack basket will be a dance off. So I’m like fuck yeah, because I can dance to next tuesday no problem, but then he shows up.
My mans steps up to plate, they got this snazzy strut going, black high heel boots on and booty shorts no less.
The music starts and I’m shredding and all but my mans (after shredding quite a bit themselves) just LEAPS onto the center platform and does the thing where you look away from the audience and do the squat (you know the squat im talking about).
I swear they must have known, they learned about the dance off before everyone else and they knew about me and they planned out every little detail to get in my head and destroy me from the –inside-.
I felt obliterated halfway through the song and couldn’t dance anymore, they won the competition, and guess what, they had the audacity to joyfully kiss their SIGNIFICANT OTHER immediately after winning.
I have never been so humiliated in my entire life, you couldn’t even tell I was also gay. I was utterly out-gayed on bingo night in front of all my bingo pals.
Gay Hell 