#So much nonsense

[crookshanks23]

Once again, Never Stop Blowing Up has left me cry-laughing at the utter ridiculousness of it all. I think Brennan has well and truly lost it. Careful, well-crafted stories? No no no no no. That's not what we're here for. We're here for 💥💥💥💥

When Ally's the sane one at the table... You know we're in for it.

[starswhogaze]

There are people dying, but yes, use all your energy to be angry about a boundary set by a part of the fandom. Couldn't just say "ok i just won't participate then." and move on? No? Had to throw tantrums and write essays about how it's unfair? No one is stopping you from making content. It just won't be shared on an event page.

Grow tf up.

[bearotonin-international]

the team, knowing full well that we will regret this late night bear posting tomorrow, and actively wanting to be done late night bear posting and instead sleeping:

[littlebabywille]

i couldn’t help but wonder.. what am i missing? how much symbolism am i not catching? how much of the iceberg am i not seeing? what does it all mean?

[fox-fic-and-ink]

Well, this is awkward.

I'm getting divorced.

It's far too much crazy shit to put in a Tumblr post so you'll have to wait until I've written my story and sold it as the dark millennial comedy movie I didn't know I was starring in to get all the utterly ridiculous details. But, long story made short, it has come to light that my husband of 12 years (dated 5 years prior) has been lying to me since before we started dating and has been cheating on me emotionally and physically for "probably about a year" (as best he could 'remember'. And even then the admission only came when threatened to be expelled from the mutual friend's house where he's couch surfing if he wouldn't answer my questions about just how badly he betrayed me throughout our marriage).

Needless to say, it fucking sucks on many, many levels to have the person you loved, financially and emotionally supported, and suffered absurd amounts of abuse and neglect from- for over a decade!- to tell you that things were actually somehow worse than you thought they were. But when you think you love someone for SEVENTEEN YEARS, you allow them a surprisingly high amount of excuses and liberties

And his timing is impeccable. He's chosen to break my heart and jump ship while I have no job and almost no income after months of recovering from COVID-related health issues. After much tearful arguing, I have at least convinced him he owes me the house he never paid for and he has forfeited his keys (legal finalization paperwork to follow) but I cannot pay for the house alone until it sells.

So here I am- utterly exhausted and still a little shaky with rage- awkwardly asking people on the internet to be kinder than the man I just wasted 17 years of my life on. *Gestures to the below*

https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/8NwQS8x8pJ

I'm just trying to keep the house long enough to finish minimum repairs and sell it so I can start again. Literally any donation is helpful and if you consider it, please act sooner rather than later because I literally have no family that can support me in this and my only irl friends are already struggling to get by.

And if you know a sugar daddy/mommy or nonbinary sucrose guardian who wants a gal with some fresh abandonment issues...*sad finger guns*

[takeariskao3]

I did randomly sent a Hagrid ask once but I'm neither both nor the one anon who sent that. I was just adding to the chaos. But surely such a thing hasn't happened with dobnny. If it did it wasn't me. Who this is? You'll never know 👍

[amerasdreams]

so this is why my Ukraine posts don't get likes from a lot of you. Not just because you don't care about a war "a world away", but because you actually think we shouldn't support Ukraine and have swallowed SOME right wing narratives which, strangely, coincidentally align awfully close to the russian ones.

If you don’t support Ukraine and especially especially you're actively working against it I don't want to associate with you. You're probably too entrenched in your views anyway. (Russian propaganda seeps here, watch yourself. Learn history and world affairs and how the sorts of people who support evil are usually on the wrong side-- then come back. Bc you either support Ukraine or Russia. You can't be neutral in a war like this).

If you think only America matters, unfollow me.

If you're supposedly "Christian " but only care about people in America, we have nothing in common.

It's really too bad you don't see the truth; being extreme partisan blinds people. Their side can do no wrong lol.

And worse-- it numbs people to others' suffering.

Ukraine matters. It always will matter. They are fighting for their freedom from a brutal regime that's trying to expand. Which kills and tortures wantonly.

Educate yourself and look at what russia actually is now. Don't look at propaganda about biolabs or whatever or listen to blaring hateful programs that actually say nothing and do nothing but harm.

(And also the ignorant will yell, "you hate Russia and all Russians! You have no credibility! Um... such a sick country needs a serious revision. I don't hate russia as a general entity but I do hate the evil that is in it. And i want Russians to live in freedom unburdened by propaganda. It's actually in normal people's best interests not to go to war. I want them to live in a normal country but it will take some massive upheaval im afraid... this may be the beginning)

[thedeafprophet]

truly i bet the neath has a great department on 'adult toys', but i bet wines charges taxes on them

....'underground' sex toy trade.......

[ecoevoexo]

someone's been putting bad take juice in the internet's water supply again

[deecotan]

anyway here's wavewave

[deimosatellite]

[yeoldenews]

While we’re on the subject of names, is there an explanation for how traditional nicknames came about that are seemingly unrelated to, or have little in common with, the original name?

ie- John/Jack, Richard/Dick, Henry/Harry/Hank, Charles/Chuck, Margaret/Peggy/Daisy, Sarah/Sally, Mary/Molly, Anne/Nan, etc

I am actually over a week into researching a huge follow-up post (probably more than one if I’m being honest) about the history of nickname usage, so I will be going into this in much, much more detail at a hopefully not-so-later date - if I have not lost my mind. (Two days ago I spent three hours chasing down a source lead that turned out to be a typographical error from 1727 that was then quoted in source after source for the next 150 years.)

As a preview though, here’s some info about the names you mentioned:

The origins of a good portion of common English nicknames come down to the simple fact that people really, really like rhyming things. Will 🠞Bill, Rob🠞Bob, Rick🠞Dick, Meg🠞Peg.

It may seem like a weird reason, but how many of you have known an Anna/Hannah-Banana? I exclusively refer to my Mom’s cat as Toes even though her name is Moe (Moesie-Toesies 🠞 Toesies 🠞 Toes).

Jack likely evolved from the use of the Middle English diminutive suffix “-chen” - pronounced (and often spelled) “-kyn” or “kin”. The use of -chen as a diminutive suffix still endures in modern German - as in “liebchen” = sweetheart (lieb “love” + -chen).

John (Jan) 🠞 Jankin 🠞 Jackin 🠞 Jack.

Hank was also originally a nickname for John from the same source. I and J were not distinct letters in English until the 17th Century. “Iankin” would have been nearly indistinguishable in pronunciation from “Hankin” due to H-dropping. It’s believed to have switched over to being a nickname for Henry in early Colonial America due to the English being exposed to the Dutch nickname for Henrik - “Henk”.

Harry is thought to be a remnant of how Henry was pronounced up until the early modern era. The name was introduced to England during the Norman conquest as the French Henri (On-REE). The already muted nasal n was dropped in the English pronunciation. With a lack of standardized spelling, the two names were used interchangeably in records throughout the middle ages. So all the early English King Henrys would have written their name Henry and pronounced it Harry.

Sally and Molly likely developed simply because little kids can’t say R’s or L’s. Mary 🠞 Mawy 🠞 Molly. Sary 🠞 Sawy 🠞 Sally.

Daisy became a nickname for Margaret because in French garden daisies are called marguerites.

Nan for Anne is an example of a very cool linguistic process called rebracketing, where two words that are often said/written together transfer letters/morphemes over time. The English use of “an” instead of “a” before words beginning with vowels is a common cause of rebracketing. For example: the Middle English “an eute” became “a newt”, and “a napron” became “an apron”. In the case of nicknames the use of the archaic possessive “mine” is often the culprit. “Mine Anne” over time became “My Nan” as “mine” fell out of use. Ned and Nell have the same origin.

Oddly enough the word “nickname” is itself a result of rebracketing, from the Middle English “an eke (meaning additional) name”.

I realized earlier this week that my cat (Toe’s sister) also has a rebracketing nickname. Her name is Mina, but I call her Nom Nom - formed by me being very annoying and saying her name a bunch of time in a row - miNAMiNAMiNAM.

Chuck is a very modern (20th century) nickname which I’ll have to get back to you on as I started my research in the 16th century and am only up to the 1810s so far lol.

[inbabylontheywept]

Soviet Birds.

The secret facility that I work in has holes in the ceiling. We don't know how to get them fixed.

We tried asking the government to fix it, once. We told them that the holes in the older parts of the facility had gotten large enough to fit birds through, and that birds were getting through, and that, perhaps, a Soviet Spy could fit through as well.

After all, it is well known that Soviet Spies and pigeons are approximately the same diameter.

Our hope was that that this vague and nonsensical threat would put a little fire under Uncle Sam's feet. If the fed couldn't be bothered to give a shit about the giant gaping holes in the roof of our facility, perhaps they could be persuaded to give a shit about... Soviet Spies.

This attempt at manipulation 100% blew up in our faces.

See, the government does not need to be persuaded to give a shit about Soviet Spies. It still wakes up most nights, drenched in cold sweat, terrified and confident that a Soviet Spy is hiding in their nightstand. If it sees a rock on the ground, it flips it over, pistol drawn, ready to shoot the Soviet Spy it fully expects to slither out from underneath. Which is to say: The government is crazy. So when we dropped those two words - inflitration risk - in the repair request, they came in guns-a-blazin'.

Does that mean that they fixed the roof? Of course not. Don't be stupid. No, instead of performing basic maintenance, they installed a state of the art alarm system throughout the facility - lasers, sonar, the works - and told us to always be on the guard. Because of the roof holes.

Then they left.

So now we had an extremely good alarm system... and birds. Which have combined in incredibly obvious and predictable ways to produce an unending fountain of problems.

For Example: About once a month, someone gets called in by the local airforce dispatch because AAAAAAAAAAA a Spy is in the Rad Lab! We're all gonna die! Except every time, it's a bird. And I get why we have to check, but every time, the dispatcher is panicked and the person going out has to be like listen, listen: It's a bird. It's always a bird. It's been a bird every month for the last fifteen years. It will be a bird next month. All this stress? Bad for your heart.

Second Example: Sometimes, birds get in while we're actually working. And when it's in the morning, you know, it's a nuisance, and it stops testing (we are not going to risk irradiating a bird) but it's not an all-hands-on-deck situation because it doesn't take ten hours to get a bird out. But surprisingly often, the bird gets in riiiiight at closing time, and in that situation, everyone goes feral because nobody can leave until the alarm is set, and we cannot set the alarm while the bird is there, because the bird would immediately trigger it and then we'd have to stay another 4 hours to confirm that it was not a Soviet Bird.

So in order to go home, everyone's top priority is Get That Bird. And we have a system for it.

Step 1: The test stands tend to be located in rooms with 30+ foot ceilings. We can't catch birds in places like that - so we have to lure the bird into the relatively low ceilinged (8 feet only) upper offices.

We do this by turning all the lights off in the test rooms, then putting floodlights by the exits. I don't know why this works - some kind of evolutionary brain fragment shared by both Bugs and Birds - but work it does. The birds almost always follow after the lights. From there, it’s just two guys moving the floodlight and a third guy to turn off the lights.

Step 2: Everyone else has been waiting for this step. There is this long stairway up from the basement level into the offices, and in the final stage, the floodlights are brought to the base of the stairwell to bring the bird up. At the top of the steps there will be a group of tennish people, waiting for the signal. The light guys will set up the final transfer, everyone will tense, and then, swish...a bird will flit up the stairs and into the offices.

It's like watching werewolves on a full moon. Before the bird cometh, we are engineers. Nerds. Pale and skinny things, trembling under the fluorescent lights. After the bird, we are beasts. Feral, gnawing things, glowing under the orange sunrise of the 70's halogen floodlights.

And like all beasts, we cannot help but give chase.

Step 3: The were-engineers begin the hunt. The goal at the start is not really to catch the bird - just exhaust it. So the pack simply does not relent. Because the stakes are going home on time, the group is basically given free reign to go anywhere in the building. If someone's door is open, and the bird goes inside, they're going to have to deal with ten sweaty panting maniacs leaping around their office. They don't get to say that they're busy, or remark on how all this movement is a terrible distraction. They are allowed to sit in silence during the chaos, and perhaps thank the war party for chasing the bird while they sat comfortably on their ass. This has been explained several times, and it will continue to be explained until cooperation is achieved.

Anyway.

The chase can go on for quite some time. Sometimes, the bird will get tired and find a crevice to hide in, where it can then be reached through standard cornered-bird catching techniques.

Other times, it will slow down enough that someone can actually yoink it out of the air. But this will go on until someone catches the bird and triggers Step 4.

Step 4: The Finale. This is the get-the-bird-out-of-the-building stage, and it requires someone to adopt a specific role: To Become the Sacrificial Vessel of Bird Removal.

This job is both coveted and feared. It's coveted, because holding a wild bird in one's hands is a precious thing. To feel how small, and fragile, and scared it is, only to free it from the building? That is what it's like to be a benevolent God. But the cost! Oh, the cost. The entire time the Vessel is in motion, the bird will be biting the hell out of their fingers. And I cannot emphasize enough just how painful bird bites are. Their entire face is a set of needle posed pliers, and they know tricks the even the cartels haven't figured out yet. So there's always a little hubbub about who shall be The Vessel while onlookers, stranded outside The Office of Bird Capture, can only look on. Quiet arguments and pleas are heard, little fragments of fear and pride and glory trickling out of room like the silver dust left behind in a bag of well shook quarters. The sound of concensus is silence, and the argument will go on until that's all that's left. And then, from the darkness of the final office, the chosen sacrifice will step forward: Hands gently cupped, tears streaming down their face, fingers trembling from the pain of the ongoing bird chomps.

And this scene is what organizes people. Not leadership, not truly. No one can think and coordinate a crowd while their fingers are being attacked with a combination nutcracker/ear piercer. But the crowd sees the suffering of their annointed, and it is driven to do everything poossible to make the process flow. People instinctively flair out, finding the fastest path outside. Doors are held open. Paths are cleared. Someone, somehow, always knows the way forward and can describe it to the sufferer. Left, left, forward. Corner closet. Yep, there's a hall in there. Forward. Two-hundred more feet man, you're doing great. Just hold it together a little longer. You're killing it.

Then the final door swings open, and the bird flees out into what remains of daylight. And yet, even here, the deed is not yet done. I cannot explain it in words, but the crowd that helped is never content until they can see and speak on the Bird Vessel's wounds. They all have to pull the fingers back and see what was given. Estimate the price: One day to get better - No, three - No, a week! Are you blind? Do you see that blood blister? -Yeah, that's not going away anytime soon - Damn, can you believe how feisty those things are? Like wolves without teeth.

(They cannot help but touch as they go. It has always been this way. Even Thomas was not content until he felt the wounds in Christ's hands.)

Only when the last of the helpers has seen, and commented, and commended, will the engineers scatter. It is their return from the underworld that announces to the sun living surface dwellers that they too can go home. (@somerunner tolja it needed to be a post.)

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Jfc so many TikTok dog trainers push this idea that giving your dog attention when they ask for it, getting excited when you come home and letting your dog sleep in you bed causes separation anxiety.

It doesn’t. Research has shown that separation anxiety are caused by factors like genetics, trauma, sudden environmental changes, moving house and other usually completely out of control factors.

Your dog is a goddamn social animal. Social sleeping is natural behaviour, big excited greetings is natural behaviour and seeking social support and interaction is NATURAL BEHAVIOUR. Because you have brought a social living breathing animal into your house and you are their social group.

Withholding attention and being unpredictable or conditional about interacting with a social animal makes you kind of an asshole. Sure, you should set boundaries and your dog doesn’t have to live in your skin either, but don’t let unqualified so-called “professionals” shame you for loving your dog how you choose to love them.

Let them sleep in your bed if you want them to, revel in the joy of an excited dog greeting you when you come home, give your dog pats and cuddles when they seek you for them.

And don’t let anyone tell you that giving social support to a social animal is going to cause them anxiety. Because that is not how anxiety works at all.

(I have a Bachelor degree in Canine Science and am a Certified Professional Dog Trainer)

[bedazzlecunt]

i really do have to emphasize that like. horny tumblr is a fucking horrible place to learn about kink. at least half the people here have never had sex (or done kink without sex) beyond sexting on omegle, and even the ones who do have any experience with sex and and kink and IRL kink spaces (including myself!) are mostly engaging in fantasy and theatre and performance. that's fine! that's fun! there's nothing wrong with that. but i do worry so much about all the 18 yr olds i see on here who've never had sex, many of whom have never been in a relationship, and who are building ideas about kink and sex and health based on the most deranged fantasy-of-the-sort-you-literally-cannot-do-safely-irl tumblr posts. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not take any tumblr posts as actual kink education, including and sometimes especially the ones claiming to be actual kink education. there are actual books and groups and dungeons for that.

[morganbritton132]

Steve, in the middle of one of Eddie’s live-streams: Did you see that another billionaire went missing at sea? That’s hilarious.

Steve: You can make fun of billionaires going missing because they’re evil. It doesn’t make me a bad person.

Steve:

Steve: …You’re not a billionaire, are you?

Eddie, offended: No….Werent you though, King Steve?

Steve: Upper middle class, Eddie.

Eddie:

Steve:

Eddie: You make fun of Will going missing all the time.

Steve: Yeah, because we found him!