even after my years of extravagant, sinful shitting, my toilet always looks pristine and new, though i have never so much as picked up a toilet brush. my society friends shake their heads in wonder, but when they ask me my secret i simply shake my head with a mysterious smile. meanwhile, an oil painting of a disgusting fucked up old toilet gathers dust in my attic, a fresh spray of diarrhoea materialising across the canvas each morning
Using bar bets to win money from drunk rich frat tech bros and use the money to fund mutual aid programs. It's praxis.
"Belief is one of the most powerful organic forces in the multiverse. It may not be able to move mountains, exactly. But it can create someone who can.
People get exactly the wrong idea about belief. They think it works back to front. They think the sequence is, first object, then belief. In fact, it works the other way."
-- Terry Pratchett
I played exactly one pickup tabletop game at a game store, ever
a guy got mad at me for using NSEW directions on a map in a fantasy setting because “they’d have different names for it” so I scribbled some shit and handed him a map that had the directions:
South (pronounced “sooth”)
he gave me the world’s dirtiest look and 5 minutes later when I described something as being “about ten bmiles morth by morthsqueast of here” he left the table and walked out of the shop
I never saw him again
the gender binary is a product of colonization and white supremacy. there is no objective categorization of gender. there is a gender binary produced and enforced by western colonizers, but indigenous culture and frameworks (of gender and otherwise) have never conformed to a universal ideal.
when the human experience is reduced into a “universal truth” i.e. “there are only two sexes/genders” it is done to preserve and uphold violent colonization, and to discredit indigenous situated knowledges.
A little bit of email sabotage
A little bit of paint on my garage
A little bit possessive here I am
A little bit of threat to message man
oh my god, at the primary school across the road some guy is filling a pothole in the car park and a crowd of about 10 eight-year olds have congregated at the playground gate to chant "Bob the builder, can he fix it? Bob the builder, no he can't"" at him relentlessly for 15 minutes and counting. Soul destroying
hot take love songs have absolutely no purpose and you know it because you'd hate to hear the most beautifully played love song by someone a little too early on to feel genuine but if you're already comfy with someone they could just blow on a kazoo and death metal scream "let's fuck" for five minutes and you'd be in bed by nightfall
He, Him. They, Them. Postmodern, polyamorous, solarpunk maker witch. McElroy fan.