sweaterkittensahoy

[sweaterkittensahoy]

March 26, 2025:

Trump opened his air horn mouth and claimed there was no classified information in the chat.

Goldberg has now released the entire text of the chat.

So, basically, it's Goldberg with the steel chair

You may be wondering how this keeps getting stupider. My personal opinion is that every single person in this fuckery has built a career on being "straight talking", and none of them know how to finesse a situation like this.

I'm not saying I have any clue how I would finesse this, but I would at least go, "Yup, we fucked this one up good," because they'd get a few people off their necks if they'd just admit they fucked up.

But they can't because they see admittance of mistakes as weakness, so they're just getting steel chaired over and over again.

SECRETARY OF DEFENSE HEGSETH (It's important you remember this dude's job is to, like, know how to handle a crisis): That reporter is totally a discredited loser (paraphrase).

Me: HE'S EDITOR-IN-CHIEF AT THE ATLANTIC.

Sean: Oh, okay, so it's completely real, which I already knew but cool.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

UPDATE FROM TODAY:

They are now going with the explanation of adding a journalist to their secret (and illegal) group chat: "Um, you've totally saved the wrong name to the wrong phone number, right? Who hasn't???"

Literally, no, I have not. I have never. And even if I did this every time I put a number in my phone, you cunts are supposed to be the top-tier government officials I can trust to (checks notes) CHECK YOU'RE NOT SHARING STATE SECRETS WITH SOME RANDO BEFORE HITTING SEND ON YOUR FIRST ILLEGAL MESSAGE TO AN APP YOU AREN'T SUPPOSED TO USE FOR THIS SHIT.

I double-check the names in the group chat before I make a dick joke, and these fuckos are just slinging their state secrets and war plans all over the place without anyone going, "Hey, before we violate several federal codes, maybe let's each come up with a codeword to say when we all first reply in the chat. So, like, Rubio, maybe yours could be 'orange' because you're from Florida. And Hegseth, yours could be 'nationalist' since you are one, and then JG, whoever you're supposed to be, that's gonna be 'dickcheese' because omg we would all be a bunch of dickcheeses if we assigned the WRONG JG to this super secret chat that violates the Espionage Act, so if JG doesn't say 'dickcheese' in the chat when we're all sharing codewords, we'll know it's the wrong JG and fix that before the editor-in-chief at The Atlantic can sit and watch us all eat our own asses."

Instead, we live in a world where all these supposedly very smart and very excellent people are having to come up with various levels of bullshit of how this happened while trying to focus on "How'd a reporter get in here?" while the rest of us are going, "WHY ARE YOU USING A NON-APPROVED MESSAGING APP TO DISCUSS BOMBINGS????? IF YOU'D JUST USED THE APPROVED CONVERSATION METHODS YOU WOULDN'T BE HERE YOU FAT-HEADED FUCKSTICK LOSERS WHO ARE SO GODDAMN ARROGANT YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE AN ASSISTANT DOUBLE CHECK A LIST OF PHONE NUMBERS BEFORE SENDING 'TIME TO BOMB YEMEN LOL'."

And you know what ESPECIALLY pisses me off about this besides the everything I've just listed? The fact that I would like to be able to say, "Look, bombings are an extreme answer to a problem, but the problem is Nazis, so bomb fucking away."

And I can't. Because these chucklefucks can't even bomb Nazis without being absolute chodes about it.

SECRETARY OF DEFENSE HEGSETH (It's important you remember this dude's job is to, like, know how to handle a crisis): That reporter is totally a discredited loser (paraphrase).

Me: HE'S EDITOR-IN-CHIEF AT THE ATLANTIC.

Sean: Oh, okay, so it's completely real, which I already knew but cool.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I want you to know that I am someone who absolutely loves my job. It's everything I ever wanted, and it's interesting and fun and I get to learn shit all the time, and it's everything you want from a job.

But also. I have worked at some shit ass places while doing my job. Well, okay, 1 shit ass place. But, if you were playing shit ass job bingo, I'd blackout the fucking card.

Undermined because I was a woman? Yup. Men talking to my tits? Yup. Being dismissed from having an opinion even thought I WROTE THE FUCKING MANUAL? Yes. Expected to always be able to fix the printer if the receptionist wasn't there? Yes. Expected to answer the front door if the receptionist wasn't there? Yes. Punished in one way or another for pointing out it is also not my job to do those things all the time? Yes.

Met the vice-president of the company several times, including once when I'd just closed a 600k payment by flying to meet the client over petty bullshit with 72 hours notice, and the VP still thought I was the one to talk to about ordering lunch for everyone in the conference room? Yup.

Did all the work I needed to do to keep my job intact while suffering from severe chronic pain and then needing to take off for surgery and nearly got soft-fired (not quite blatant enough to sue them for wrongful termination) and managed to pull a solution out of my ass? You fucking bet.

And I'm telling you this to tell you this: The number one thing that made getting up every day in the worst pain of my life and dragging myself into that shit ass situation to sit there and make money because I was the breadwinner and Sean was finishing his degree worth it was this: I did actually like my job.

And on the very worst days of that shit ass job, I learned to take a deep breath, take a five-minute walk, and come back and do my job. Not because I needed the paycheck (I did). Not because I needed the experience to find something better (I did). But because I went into a field that genuinely made me excited about the work and I enjoyed the process of my work. And it didn't improve the workplace. It didn't create any fucking positive emotions between me or my co-workers or any shit like that. But it did lead me to focus on what I COULD control in that shitty situation: And what I could control was being good at my job because I really enjoyed the work of my job.

When I finally got out of that place, it took me 18 months to find steady work again. That fucking sucked. But also, Sean and I scraped by so that I could refuse to work at a place like that again, should an offer come. I want to do the work, not put up with several layers of sexist bullshit and clearly unfair HR practices. I ended up at a place with a great culture but, sadly, some cashflow issues that led to no one getting a raise for 2 years and management cutting their own salaries by 10-20% to keep the doors open.

I burned out at that job because I loved the work AND my co-workers, and when the company went, "We don't want team leads!" I went, "I don't know what this hippie shit is, but someone has to run the meeting," and so I did. Which meant I was also the one who had to put up with one of the few rotten apples in the bushel when we got a shitty client, and he thought they'd be less shitty if we kept giving them stuff while they continued NOT to pay us.

And so I took a month off (No joke, I went to my doc for a check-up, and she found out I'd just wrapped that project, and when I said, "I think I need medical leave," she said, "You start tomorrow, and that's not a suggestion."), and I did look at a few job listings, but I also didn't want to push myself.

On week three, the phone rang. A recruiter had seen my resume. Would I want to interview for a growing company who needed their first tech writer? Sure, I said. And then I got hired. And then they went, "Oh, we need a team lead," and I went, "You sure do. Won't be me, but I'll keep you going while you look for one, and I'll stay on after and happily keep working on all this new and cool stuff I didn't know before."

It took nearly a year to find the team lead. And the first time I realized I no longer had to sit in the upper management meeting, I literally cackled with relief.

What kept me moving through everything to end up where I am now is this: I like my fucking work. I like it in spite of shitty work places. I like it even when I'm fuming at customers. I like it when no one answers my fucking emails, and I like it when I'm in a tight deadline situation.

Before, after, and during, I like my work. And that makes a huge difference on days where I can control nothing else about the situation. Even on my worst days, I like my fucking work.

Like the work first. It'll get you through some shitty experiences, and when you finally find the right combination of team, culture, and (most importantly) paycheck, you'll get to keep doing something you like and get money for it. In a culture that makes it easier to like the things associated with the work.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Anyway, I had an idea for a fic last night where Marge can see how much Gale and John are in love with each other, and then Gale admits he and John would curl up together for comfort in the Stalag, and he says it like he thinks he cheated, and Marge's heart just breaks.

Next time they're all three at the house, she says, "Gale, do you trust me?"

"What? Of course."

"John?"

"Stupid question, Marge."

"Okay." She stands up and walks to John. She looks at Gale. "Just. Trust me."

And Gale stares at her but nods slowly. She looks at John. "Trust me."

John is shaking, but he nods.

Marge touches John's cheek, then she cups his face, then she steps in between his legs and pulls his head against her chest. The same way she cuddles Gale. She makes sure John's looking at Gale. She looks at Gale.

Gale's shaking as badly as John. He looks from John to Marge, then back to John. "I don't--" He shakes his head. "Marge. I trust you. But..."

"I will never be mad you found comfort in each other," she says, and John makes a pained, wounded noise and wraps his arms around Marge's waist. Marge looks down and combs her fingers through his hair. "I will never be mad you love each other."

"We--" Gale presses his mouth closed in that way he does when he's stopping himself from saying something he doesn't mean.

"Marge," John says, his voice broken.

And then Gale makes a wounded sound. "That's--John. That's how you said it in the Stalag."

John shifts, and Marge looks down. He rests his chin on her belly. His eyes are wet and his face is red. "I was jealous," he says.

Marge wipes his eyes. "Of me?"

"Both of you," John says.

There's a clatter, and then Gale's rounding the table, dropping so he can wind his arms around John's shoulders and press his face between John's shoulders.

Marge moves on instinct. Slips a hand down John's chest until she can touch Gale's hands. Gale unclasps his hands and presses hers flat against John's chest, then covers them with his.

John's fingers tighten on her waist, and Marge leans down and kisses him on the forehead.

"Oh, John," she says. "You've always had us. I'm sorry you didn't think you did."

"Marge," Gale whispers. He lifts his head from John's back and looks at her. "Marge, what are we doing?"

"I have no idea," she says and laughs a little wetly. "Not really. It just...we aren't right if it isn't all three of us in it together," she says. "And you've both been trying so hard to act like we're just a couple with a friend, but it's not..." She looks at John. He's still staring at her. He's still crying. "I don't know when I decided it would always be the three of us, but--" She clears her throat as Gale stands.

He keeps one hand on John's shoulder. He leans over John's head. He presses a kiss to the corner of Marge's mouth. "We shouldn't--this isn't how people--"

"Fuck people," John says. He presses a kiss to Marge's stomach, then turns so he can wrap one of his arms around Gale's waist. "Gale. Please. I won't--I won't ask for much."

"How dare you!" Marge snaps at the same time Gale makes a noise like something inside him has broken.

Gale stares at Marge. She juts out her chin, letting him know she's with him. He looks down at John. Touches John's cheek just like Marge had, leans down and pauses, his nose brushing John's. "Don't you ever. John, don't you ever say that again."

John tips his chin, and Gale glances at Marge. She nods, scared and unsure how any of this will work, but sure it's the right answer. The only answer.

They kiss.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

FYI: I thought to myself "Wow, the tankies must be losing their shit to see Palestinians telling Hamas to get fucked!"

Look up "Palestine" and put it on "Latest:

scam

scam

scam

scam

my post

scam

scam

scam

scam

probably a scam but in arabic

scam

scam

scam

Just to remind everyone that tankies only care about sucking their own butts and not actually about what Palestinians want or are going through.

There are anti-Hamas protests happening in Gaza right now. Hamas agents tried to enter a hospital (most likely to stash or retrieve weapons) and basically got told to go fuck themselves.

This is amazing. May they be out of power soon and forever.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

There are anti-Hamas protests happening in Gaza right now. Hamas agents tried to enter a hospital (most likely to stash or retrieve weapons) and basically got told to go fuck themselves.

This is amazing. May they be out of power soon and forever.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

for my son's birthday i gave him cat drugs

[sweaterkittensahoy]

That looks familiar!

The Officer’s Guide. The Military Service Publishing Company - 1942.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I couldn't sleep last night because my brain went "Oh, a vague story idea??? Let's just write the entire thing!"

Which means I didn't fall asleep before 4. But I do now have a courting fic idea for RosieLemmons omegaverse.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Another ad campaign of the blonde pretty boy, another day I worry those girls have never seen a full cake in their lives.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I think it's a dig at Trump serving McDonalds to whatever team that was at the White House in his first term. And doing his worker cosplay at a McDonald's during the last election cycle.

He's calling him cheap and stupid. It's amazing.

lmao

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Kendrick Lamar x Not Like Us (Super Bowl)

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Fanfics are a big part of what inspires me to draw fanart, but I have just seen a post saying that some writers might not like fanart based on their fics to be posted and honestly, I'd never considered that, so if you're a fanfic writer:

to me fanart and fanfic have always seemed more or less like a symbiotic relationship and I personally would love it if someone wrote a fic based on art that I drew, so I'd never really considered that someone might not like it

[sweaterkittensahoy]

This cunt is back to her usual tricks.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

SECRETARY OF DEFENSE HEGSETH (It's important you remember this dude's job is to, like, know how to handle a crisis): That reporter is totally a discredited loser (paraphrase).

Me: HE'S EDITOR-IN-CHIEF AT THE ATLANTIC.

Sean: Oh, okay, so it's completely real, which I already knew but cool.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

If you wanna lose several hours figuring out what that yarn was for by going through every single digital pattern and every single digital pattern book and magazine you have, and then realize you truly do not know what the fuck that heavy worsted in the knitpicks order was for, and then need to FIND a use for it, you definitely want all those PDFs.

(I crocheted the dog a sweater, if you're curious.)

if you love downloading pdfs you are likely to never use again you have GOT to get into knitting

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Send me an OC + and something you think is true about them and I'll tell you whether you're right or wrong.