Smg6
Hello there you mortals :] I took over this blog again to introduce an up and coming new addition to our little family here!
Wh-Where am I- What do you mean up and coming-
This is Smg6, a lil teaser for what's to come! She doesn't exist within that world just yet
What-
But she does exist here! The owner of this blog just felt the urge to make her now :]
Smg6 is a little partner of mine I decided to make after noticing that the other SMG's had their own partners! I think of her like a "sister" (whatever that means, I read that it's someone, particularly female, who's "found family" or biologically related to you)
But for now, she's just gonna remain as a lil teaser for what I have in store for the ending of this story~...
I'll be seeing you user :]
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I think the Starfield devs should give the Woke Panic people what they want and provide a pronouns toggle at the start of the game. If opted-out, all in-game pronouns default to she/her. Because if there's one thing that makes incels angrier than trans people, it's strong female lead rolls in video games.
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I'm cynical but not doompilled because I don't care about collective liberation and trying to get idiots to see the light-- I think about how feminism can benefit me first and foremost. My whole thing is that feminism needs to fulfill my personal needs and goals and idgaf about if the rest of womankind wants to help themselves or not tbh! I want an actual career, codified reproductive rights, the workplaces that have jobs that actually pay well (a good chunk of which are male-dominated) to be not-hostile to me by default and so on and so forth (all of which are fulfilled in the US to some extent, but there is the constant tug-o-war politically and/or culturally to regress on them, most prominently reproductive rights). All of the women that have a problem with this mean nothing to me, not even if they make up the 99% because I don't care about that "majority rules" shit. In all honesty, these types of women are basically children stomping their feet while outwardly politically and socially cucking themselves. And the funny thing is?
They end up taking advantage of initiatives that feminists fought for anyways despite their whining. There is no point in talking to women who are mentally deficient and/or misogynistic sociopaths that want to remove the ladder that is supposed to help us all climb, especially the ones who already made it to the top.
Seriously, it is actually much easier to be a feminist once you drop the savior complex and focus on yourself first and foremost.
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Brain Curd #98
Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.
“Oh, what the hell…” Clyde clicked repeatedly on his computer mouse, but the computer refused to do anything.
Betsy poked her head out from the next cubicle. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get this email to send. It just keeps showing me an hourglass.”
“Let me see?”
“Sure, go ahead. Knock yourself out.” He leaned back in his chair, rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms.
Betsy walked around to his cubicle and looked closely at the computer. “Is this your disk in the floppy drive?”
“My what in the who?”
She pressed the button to the side of the slot and a disk popped out. She pulled it out. “Oh no!”
“What is it?”
“Look at this! Read the label!”
Sure enough, written on the disk was the word ‘virus’ and a drawing of a mischievous-looking face.
“You’ve been infected, Clyde!”
Clyde gripped the sides of his head. “But I don’t even feel sick! I- I- I got my flu shots and everything!”
“It’s not that kind of virus, it’s the kind a computer can catch. And yours has it.”
“What do I do? What do I do?!?”
“We have to delete your whole hard drive, I think.”
“But my emails!”
“Do you do anything other than sending emails?”
Clyde stared at her with a blank expression on his face. “Was I supposed to?”
Betsy sighed. “Well, the great thing about emails is you send them and receive them, so all of them should still exist on everyone else’s computers. Better start going around asking for them.”
The computer made a little whoosh sound and the email Clyde had been trying to send finally went out. Suddenly the whole office was full of computer noises - everyone had received that email.
“Hey, that’s weird. I was only trying to send this email to you, Betsy.”
Betsy’s eyes snapped wide open. “Uh-oh.”
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