notsocheezy

[notsocheezy]

reblog if you would give cheeses to these meeces

[notsocheezy]

give it up for girls with vaginas and boys with penises

[notsocheezy]

OK THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL EVERYONE FUCKING REPEAT AFTER ME. THIS IS WHAT YOU WILL DO WHEN YOU WATCH MUPPET CHRISTMAS CAROL THIS YEAR:

You will navigate to the page on disney plus (and it has to be here. Unless someone has actually uploaded the REAL movie anywhere else you cannot get it elsewhere)

BUT YOU WILL NOT HIT PLAY. You won’t do it. Because it’s NOT THE REAL VERSION OF THE FILM AND DISNEY IS FUCKING LYING TO YOU AS IT ALWAYS DOES

You will scroll down HERE. To EXTRAS instead. You MUST GO HERE. This is non -negotiable

THEN YOU WILL SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE EXTRAS AND YOU WILL THEN HIT PLAY ON THIS BAD BOY: THE FULL LENGTH VERSION

And you will watch it. And you will thank me for having been so blind and led astray by that stupid fucking mouse. You’re welcome.

[notsocheezy]

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[notsocheezy]

[notsocheezy]

video essays on horror be like "there's something viscerally unsettling about being put in scary situation..."

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #283

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose.

Thanks for letting us be frank with you. Read the rest of The Frank Program here on Tumblr!

“Welcome back to The Frank Program. I'm your host, Daryl, and today we're going to be frank with you. We’ve got Big Mike handling all the sliders and knobs…”

A heavily compressed, gravelly voice interrupted. “I would have thought you were the one handling ‘knobs’, son! Ha ha ha!”

“... and we have Frank here calling in from California. How’s the weather?”

“Colder than I’d’a expected. I’m bundled up here in my room.”

“That’s great. We’ve also got today’s guest. Would you like to introduce yourself to the audience?”

“Hm…” The guest pondered. “No.”

“That’s fine, I’ll be happy to. Mike, can you up the gain on his input?”

“Sure thing,” Mike replied. “I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side…”

“Thanks. Today’s guest is a longtime favorite of mine. You know him as the host of both Backstab Pantry and Stainless Steal, but to me he’ll always be the face of Chemistry Kitchen. Welcome to the show, Mr. Adam Braun!”

“Thank you, thank you,” Braun bowed. “I just hate to toot my own horn. Much better if you do it.”

“Ha!” Frank chuckled. “He loves tooting horns!”

Mike frowned. “Frankie, can you shut the hell up?”

Daryl’s face remained as still as stone. “Mr. Braun -”

“Call me Adam.”

“Adam, today’s episode is going to release on Christmas day, so I’d like to get the obvious question out of the way first: What tips do you have for our listeners at home who put on this podcast while they prepare dinner?”

“I’d probably tell your listeners that if they want to hear my opinion, they should try watching any number of Christmas themed episodes of Chemistry Kitchen or reading one of the companion cookbooks. However, when the question of safety is at hand, I’m happy to give away free advice to anyone who asks: have a fire extinguisher handy always. Not just for your bird, or roast, or hunk of porky goodness - God forbid - but also all those gosh-darn cheap lights strewn about the house. Electrical fires are no joke. Overcooked poultry is no picnic, but a house fire is a tragedy.”

“Yeesh.” Frank yawned. “This guy sounds like he wears a bowtie.”

Daryl reached around to the mixing board and muted Frank. “Sorry about him.”

“Is that the original host of this show?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ve heard rumors that he was a real piece of work. I guess they were right.”

“Hey,” Mike chimed in. “You know, Frank might not be the best host of all time or anything, but he built this podcast up from nothing. You gotta hand it to him for that. People like hearing what he’s got to say.”

“Mike,” Daryl glared at him. “Let’s not argue with our guest.”

“It’s Christmas, Daryl. You’re not gonna defend your dad?”

“There’s nothing to defend. Anyway, Adam, your fans all know you got your start in the production side of things, working behind the camera rather than in front of it. How much behind the scenes work did you continue doing as the series grew into itself?”

“That’s a good question. At first, it was a real rinky-dink operation. Just me and a couple other guys filming in our producer’s home kitchen. Back then, I developed all the recipes myself. But as the scale of our little show - including its budget and marketing - grew past my own limits, I started putting together a team. I’d say it was seventy-thirty how much I did per episode by then, much like the muscle-to-fat ratio of a good burger - and I was the fat. By the end of the show, the final season, I was so busy with other responsibilities that I was mostly just a host. But the team was solid. Their work was unmatched in quality.”

“Any chance of a comeback?”

“I’ll never say never, but I’m getting old. I come up with little ideas and put them out on my YouTube channel now and then, but you can consider me happily retired.”

“Psst… hey…” Mike tapped Daryl’s shoulder. “Your dad is pissed that you muted him.”

“Too bad.”

“He said it’s his show and he can kick you out if he’s not happy.”

“Ugh. Fine. Unmute him, then.”

Mike clicked the button and Frank’s voice began piping into everyone’s headphones again.

“... and another thing, where does this boy get off tellin’ m​e to shut my mouth? I wouldn’t even be here if he knew how to mind his damn business! ‘Merry Christmas!’ Whole lotta Merry Christmas around here, in the damn institution y’all threw me in! I don’t like lookin’ out at the ocean! It’s too damn big! And I…” Frank continued talking, rambling, complaining - whatever you want to call it.

Daryl covered his face.

Adam adjusted his bowtie. “I think I should get going.”

“Yeah, I can understand that.” Daryl leaned on his elbow, little life left in his eyes.

Frank’s diatribe was in one ear and out the other, but it banged pots and pans on the way through.

“This has been The Frank Program…”

“... ending the darn show while I’m talking! Who do you think you are?!? You little…”

“Thanks for letting us be frank with you. Merry Christmas.”

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! See you again tomorrow.

[notsocheezy]

You can tell when someone’s frame of reference for “normal people” is more “people at the church sponsored ice cream social” and less “people on the bus”

[notsocheezy]

[notsocheezy]

I'm bitter and tired of being systematically told to sit down and shut up by perisex society. But I'm actively pissed at being personally told to sit down and shut up by my sibling community.

I add on to trans posts & correct intersexism in them because I want solidarity between perisex trans people and intersex people. I want to educate people who are fighting for the same thing the intersex community is. You can't have solidarity if one group knows fuckall about the other and constantly perpetuates stereotypes and says bigoted shit about them. We are stronger together than we are separate.

I & other intersex activists are not fucking "bad actors" for sharing what we go through and bringing attention to our issues on related posts. We are not "bad actors" for calling out intersexism in the trans community. We are not "bad actors" for making people pay attention to the fact we are dying out of view of the whole queer community. We are not "bad actors" for not allowing ourselves to be walked all over and have our systematic abuse ignored.

If you see a group of people with a related struggle to you screaming for your support and your response is to call them fucking "bad actors" fuck you, legitimately.

Trans & intersex liberationist movements will always go hand in beautiful hand. And the oppression we face is just two sides of the same blood-stained coin.

[notsocheezy]

[notsocheezy]

TERFs couldn't keep Posie Parker out of their movement. They tried, like some of them really did think of themselves as feminists and cared about more than just exterminating trans people, some of them expressed concern that their movement's figureheads were ceding ground to Matt Walsh, but there was never going to be any meaningful resistance to fascism in the TERF movement. Their movement was fundamentally anti-feminist and racist.

I mention this, because it's already happening to this new online movement of TMRAs. There's moderate ones, I got a few in my inbox. "Come on, no one's saying that transmascs are more oppressed than trans women, we just have a right to recount our unique experiences." and those ones are already expressing concern that their movement is housing open transmisogynists. People who say Kiwifarms is a necessary evil, who expound the validity of sex-based oppression and outright deny the misogyny that transfems face, who sexually harrass and threaten transfems for sport and content.

See, the issue is that there was never going to be any resistance to transmisogyny in this movement. Your premise is flawed, you chose bad axioms. Even in its most moderate form, your movement is one skeptical of intersectionality, of the very concept of being oppressed on one axis but privileged on another. Enjoy skeptic-youtube 2: transgender boogaloo, you made your bed for it.

[notsocheezy]

wanting to keep the bunny tail plug in while she breeds you should be a valid reason to get all three letters for vaginoplasty for free

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #282 - Twenty-Minute Tuesday #33

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose.

Cole Nicole would love it if you checked out his portfolio.

Cole was bundled up all cozy in bed, relishing the smell of burning dust from the furnace. He was in his element - warm, covered in soft blankets, ensconced in the dark, and mostly naked. It was as close to the womb as he could get.

Maple aroma danced into the room with the crackle of bacon. Ginger was cooking Christmas breakfast. And for a moment, he thought of his mother again.

He got out of bed and threw on a fluffy robe so he could face the light of day.

“Good morning,” he said, stretching his arms. His mouth watered looking at the skillet. “Is that for me?”

“It’s for all of us, Cole.”

“All of us? Who else is here?”

“Gretchen, for one. It’s only right that she’s got somewhere to go for the holidays. And Ariel is here for breakfast - I invited her because you forgot to.”

“Fair enough. Four people. Good.”

“Five, Cole. Five people.”

“Huh?” The possibility hadn’t immediately occurred to him, but now it hit his face. “You don’t mean…”

Ginger smirked. “That’s right.”

Cole gripped his head like he’d been struck by a migraine in a lead bucket. “I told you not to invite him! He’s like, my boss!”

“Too bad.”

“Ugh… when will he get here?”

The unmistakable fruity voice of Rikki Numbers came from the couch behind Cole. “I’ve come already, Coco! Thank you both for your gracious hospitality.”

Cole turned around to look and blushed to see Rikki with a striking red and green palette to his outfit, which was a cross between an elf and Mrs. Claus. Suddenly Cole felt… underdressed.

“I love the look you’ve put together, Coco. Very understated, very cozy-core. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t even put product into that bed-head hairdo.”

“It’s, um…” Cole stammered. “It’s only the first of many outfits I’ll be wearing today. Heh…” He shrugged. “My body is my canvas, after all.”

“Hm…” Rikki’s eyebrows went up. “I was only going to stick around for breakfast, but I simply must see what else you’re planning.”

Cole forced a smile. “Great. Great to hear. I’m so excited.”

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! See you again tomorrow.

[notsocheezy]

why do Tinamou eggs look like that. i want to eat them whole 

[notsocheezy]

Today my Advanced Clinical Pathology professor trailed off in the middle of class and said, “If I seem distracted, it’s because last night I was talking with a friend and she asked ‘Who’s that chick in Titanic?’ but all I heard was ‘Chicken Titanic,’ and ever since then I’ve been thinking about a chicken on the bow of the Titanic like Kate Winslet, wings held high. It’s all I can think about.”