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the bus stop sunk cost fallacy

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MERRY CHRISTMASS

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my earnest hope for 2025 is that everyone embraces being a little weirder and freakier and less judgmental bc we will all be better off for it like to charge reblog to cast

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I don’t WANT a career. I want to cuddle and sleep and eat and read and create and love and be loved.

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"Members of the Teamsters union went on strike at Amazon early Thursday in a labor action at seven facilities in four states coast to coast just ahead of the holiday gift-giving rush.

Amazon said that its operations will not be affected by any of the union’s actions. Although the Teamsters claim to represent 7,000 Amazon workers nationwide, that accounts for less than 1% of the company’s US workforce."

"Amazon shows no indication it is willing to reach a deal with the Teamsters or even recognizes that the union speaks for any of its workers, despite the union declaring that employees at numerous Amazon facilities have signed cards asking to join."

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rb to have a super gay 2023

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WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO MY BOY PARSIVAL

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I hope he walks into an electric fence and pisses himself and die actually 🥺🤤

Collection of blorbo neon white from the hit game neon white

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some bugs i drew hehe : ]

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Cinderella rewrite where Cinderella’s father is an unusually successful fisherman due to his secret friendships with the shy and mysterious mermaids, successful enough to attract a moderately wealthy and ambitious bride with two daughters. Once he dies, her stepmother, determined to make sure her daughters inherit the fishing business as dowries by marrying before Cinderella, forbids her from going out on the fishing boats or into town and makes sure she spends as much of her time as possible doing drudgework, hauling offal and cleaning fish. When the Prince’s ball comes around, an important occasion for young women to make good connections, the stepmother forbids her from going, telling her that she needs to get the latest salmon catch gutted and ready for sale instead.

Cinderella’s mermaid godmother calls upon her people to clean the fish and gifts her a dress and shoes of shimmering fish scales that wreathe her in rainbows under the moonlight. She makes an impression on the Prince at the ball so strong that he immediately falls in love with her, and when she’s forced to flee before her stepmother notices her (no masquerade mask or dancing rainbows will disguise her from her own family at close range), the Prince is left with only a delicate fish leather slipper left on the front steps to try to find her again.

He goes around the houses, seeking the owner of the slipper, but Cinderella is once again working in the fish sheds. He stepmother, desperate and determined and having found Cinderella’s other shoe that very morning, realises what has happened and takes a knife to the feet of her prettiest daughter, telling the prince that she suffered an injury that very morning but those are definitely her shoes, see, here’s the other one, and they still fit.

The daughter is pretty and witty and charming, and while the Prince doesn’t feel the same spark and instant sense of connection that he did at the party, he reasons that she’s overwhelmed and in pain and once she’s healed, all will be well. There are no birds to whisper of blood in the shoe – the Prince has seen the bandaged feet already – and the daughter slips on the shoes (the only shoes she has that will fit her, now,) and accompanies him to the palace.

But the stepmother is no doctor, and by the time the Prince gets her to the palace doctors, it’s too late – his beloved has contracted an infection in her feet from the shoe leather, made unclean in its travels. She will survive – it is an infection of a common filth of fish and birds, one that the doctors have potions for for the occasions where dangerously cooked food causes outbreaks – but in her raving, she confesses the whole scheme to the Prince who, furious, returns to the village to find the girl he truly fell in love with, the girl hidden from him.

“Oh, yeah, the fish cleaner,” the villagers shrug. “We don’t see her around very much, she’s probably in the sheds. Her family calls her Salmonella.”

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(1) 柴犬·͜·♡もも on X: “昼寝から起きた犬がすごいパワー放ってる https://t.co/gSUFGYOqmF” / X

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Finishing the QnA and remembering all the stupid ass questions you answer us here. That got me thinking: why tumblr? Don't get me wrong, thats my favourite social media, wich makes me think you do this personally for my entertainment, Jon

But why tumblr of all places?

I mean, how many places are actually left in this haunted and ad-ruined wasteland of the internet?

Our biggest audience was always on Twitter, but at some point into Musk's ownership we got served a white supremacist-grifter ad for like, TruthWiki: See The Real Stats About Black-on-White Violence!! and that felt like a solid reminder of a cultural environment we probably shouldn't be contributing to any more. Everywhere else is dead, filled with gamified self-promotion, or requires you to record videos like some kind of functional-appearing human.

Tumblr is nice, by comparison! I get to read wonderful rambling essays about stupid niche shit that doesn't matter. The general tone is wide-eyed over-intensity layered with self-mockery and an edge of manic hysteria, which is pretty much my ideal vibe.

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“do you know where you’ll be headed in 5 years?” no. but i do know about themes and motifs. and friendship. and putting garlic on everything

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scorn of gods and bringer of fire, feast on dreams of insect desire