#america is broken

[nsomniacsdream]

If your job ever hands you this book, look for a new job. This is the book you hand out to the hostages so they know their options are Stockholm Syndrome or death.

This book is so asinine that there are multiple rebuttals to it

Even an entire book thoroughly debunking every single page of this book was written and sold more copies

The most generous interpretation of this book is "your employer deserves your unquestioned loyalty and owes you nothing in return". "Do what we say or die" is also a common interpretation. I'm not even saying there isn't a kernel of truth in this book, that you have to remain flexible under changing circumstances, but the lengths the author goes to are ridiculous. The one character who stands up for himself is implied to have starved to death offscreen. The heroes of the story never think, they just do what their told (this is explicit in the book, im not just making an ungenerous interpretation). They are literally described as subhuman and not too bright. I dont have enough words to describe how insulting this book is, and I don't have enough swears in my vocabulary to describe any organization who would distribute it to their employees.

It is written in a slightly aged up "Fun with Dick and Jane" vocabulary and rhythm. The author couldn't even be assed to write like he respected your intelligence. Because he doesn't. It's very clear.

So in summary, Jesus fucking christ.

[firecrotchkiss]

Years ago, I went on a little journey to stick myself like a pig and watch my lifeblood spew out of me. I walked 20 miles down the railroad tracks and drank a liter of whiskey. I finally got tired and sat down to rest.

The next morning, I was kicked awake by a state trooper, a lone train engine saw me sleeping on tracks and called. I got cuffed and put in the trooper SUV. Due to the crazy shit I said he took me to a hospital.

I stayed overnight, got saline, drug tests, and a nicotine patch. My mom picked me up and I went home. Got a bill for $1100. I had insurance.

Recently I got really sick and missed 4 days of work. Work requires a doctor's note for that. I went to convenient care. Got shuffled around between at least 6 different people. They asked my symptoms, took my vitals and administered a flu test. I did not have insurance then.

At the front desk they gave me a payment plan brochure. I said I wanted to pay same day if I could, they said that's not a thing they do. I figured it's basically a checkup maybe they'll ramp it up to a few hundred dollars. Nope $700. What the fuck.

[onlyherefortheshowmances]

I feel like I keep posting the same things over and over and no one pays attention (okay not no one, but only the same few people). If I do not come up with ~$3,500+ by next weekend I will be completely homeless. The Mission is turning people away every day. I will have absolutely no where to go, sleep, or be safe in any way shape or form. And with my chronic conditions that's not going to be sustainable for even 24 hours let alone months.

I need monetary donations. Or even 'personal loans' that I can pay back when I get back pay from Social Security. Or if one of you has an old (I do not care how old), inspected, and functional larger vehicle you're looking to get rid of, please, please help me.

Having to spend almost 2 days in the hospital this week after totaling my car I was counting on trade-in value of definitely did not help anything either. There are 8 days until I have to be out. I am formally evicted as of 12:01 AM on 5/1, so I need to be out by Sunday night. Please.

Or take a look at the stuff I'm posting on eBay (a lot of Harry Potter Pop! Vinyls and a few other things). My seller ID is dandyc60 but idk how exactly ebay works to get you to a list of just my things.

The GFM is linked here as always. https://gofund.me/978fb41c

I have V$nmo as well @.clbrown91

And I have Chime, so if you do to that can transfer directly, just message me.

[crumb]

DINNER IN AMERICA | 2020 + parallels ↓ Napoleon Dynamite (2004) // Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995) // Not Another Teen Movie (2001) ← Scene parodying She’s All That (1999) // SLC Punk! (1998) // 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) // Heathers (1989) // Valley Girl (1983) // How to Deal (2003)

[daegu-based-terrorist]

So………………… why not just go back?

Okay I won’t say which type of cancer because I do want to keep specific details private and a level of plausible deniability if the NIS every comes knocking but essentially the reason my mother and I left the dprk is because I am hugely genetically susceptible to a type of very lethal cancer that killed my father and several of my paternal family members. The dprk has an amazing healthcare system, it’s been called the envy of the developing world, but if I end up with cancer id rather be in a country where I don’t have to worry about sanctions cutting off my supply of medication or something else destabilising happening.

It’s very selfish and a bit individualist but sue me for being afraid of death on a diseases terms instead of my own.

I can’t decide the number but if I don’t get cancer or I do but it’s treated and unlikely to come back by the time I’m like 45 I’ll defect back because I’d rather die back home then over here, I’d just also prefer to not die young.

[olympeline]

Oh God fucking damn it I never noticed Davie asks Alfred where his parents are but Alfred can only shake his head and walk away

Fffffuuuuuccckkkk meeeee Hima whyyyyyyyyy

[intheholler]

Kentucky, 1949

[sorryiwasasleep]

[natrogersfics]

The Anthology - Chapter 4: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

“What did you just say?”

An amalgam of emotions washes over Natasha as she sits in front of her vanity, watching in horror as the moment Steve grabs a paparazzo by the collar replays on her phone. Concern is at the forefront. As anyone who’s spent even the briefest of moments with Steve Rogers can attest to, it takes a lot to get a rise out of him. And while the words of the photographer in the video are too mumbled to make out, she can only imagine what he must have said to elicit this kind of reaction from him.

Then there’s the worry. While she avoids the online gossip rags on principle, with the clip making the rounds seemingly on every platform, it’s hard not to see. And if she can’t escape it, she doubts that Steve can. People may fawn over him left, right, and center these days, but she’s played this game long enough to know that there are also those patiently waiting for the opportune time to cast the first stone against him regardless of the full picture.

Looming large above all, though, is the guilt. While their filming schedule is winding down, what little days they have left on set have only grown more difficult to navigate. Outside of their scenes, she and Steve haven’t spoken to each other since he’d confronted her on her way back to her trailer that day. Even so, the silence between them is nothing short of deafening. On the rare occasion that she allows herself to steal a glance at him, she can still see all the questions swirling in his face. Questions she knows she owes him answers to, but that she can never give. For in the midst of all those inquiries, she can also see vestiges of what she thinks might still be hope. For what, she’s not certain. All she knows is that it doesn’t matter – it can’t – and that she’s the last person that can ever give it oxygen.

At least, that’s what she’s been convincing herself of every night when she heads out the door with her lips lacquered and her clutch in hand and into the flashing lights of one club. Then another.

It’s for the best.

A sigh falls heavily from her lips. Those four words are ones she finds herself repeating like a mantra more than she cares to admit these days. In theory, she knows that they hold true even when it does nothing to stomp out the deep-seated ache in her chest – especially now, as she looks at the screen once more and takes in the way Steve’s posture has gone rigid, his expression incandescent with anger as he stares the photographer down. And not for the first time since she hightailed it out of his rental that night, she catches herself scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovering over his name.

It’s for the best.

Just as she’s done every other time, she sets her phone back down, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

“Late night?” The question comes from Melina later on as they sit in the back of a town car enroute to her next appearance. Her agent’s tone is a little too pointed for her liking, and she lets her know as much with a sharp glare. Melina brings her hands up as if in surrender, and she just shakes her head as she leans further back into the headrest, closing her eyes. “Are you okay?”

Like a reflex, her response comes to her in an instant, but she bites it back just as quickly. As the lie hangs acridly on the tip of her tongue, she keeps her eyes shut. She would like to think that after decades in this business, she’d be used to this by now. And she is. Saying what people want to hear. Appearing in such a way that people want to see. All of that became second nature to her long ago – her circumstances behind closed doors be damned.

Nevertheless, every now and then, she gives into the nagging craving to speak the truth. “Does it matter?”

As the seconds drag on and her response goes unanswered, she turns to Melina to see the woman already another world away, her ever sharp gaze trained on the screen of her tablet, taking in the details underneath what looks to be a headshot of a petite young blonde with piercing green eyes. As she turns back to watch the busy streets pass by the window, the humorless chuckle that falls from her lips is one she would never in a million years be able to stifle. “Body’s not even cold yet.”

“Natasha,” Melina says, her tone conciliatory now. “You know it’s not like that.”

The car comes to a stop, the relentless clicks of the cameras flashing away outside audible even through the closed windows. The sound only intensifies as her door is opened, but before she steps out, she pauses to look back at Melina. “Make sure you tell her what this job really entails.”

If Melina reacts to her words, she doesn’t hear or see it as she steps out and onto the carpet. The smile on her face is cut straight out of the glossiest of magazine covers, never once losing its luster as she makes her way towards the hordes of people shouting her name on the sidelines to sign photographs of her own image and to grin into one outstretched phone screen after another.

“Natasha, nice to see you again,” Betty Brand, the bubbly host of E! greets once she finally makes it to the end of the carpet, giving her a kiss on either cheek before holding out the microphone in her direction. “How have you been?”

Without missing a beat, her lips curl up into another blinding smile. “Fantastic as always, Betty. Thanks.”

“Good to hear. So, tell us, who are you wearing this fine evening?”

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

[my-midlife-crisis]

[kimsmingyu]

nonkorean kdrama watchers get too comfortable complaining because what do you mean you expect a korean speaking korean actor to speak english a certain way... aka they want them fluent...

[lialox]

things no one prepared me for: The ORV fandom fuelling my desire for nasi goreng.

Every time I see my mutuals I think of it.

oh this person mentioned they were from Florida I think…… the place where I first tried nasi goreng and it seared its flavour into my heart. ❤️

hmm this other person is from Indonesia ….. I bet they can make nasi goreng real good

Other Mutual: “OooOoh Lia last time I was in America I found all the spices you can just make it yourself it comes prepackaged” FIRST OF ALL. Canada=/=America. SECOND. I was gaslighted into believing this and I was searching every Asian grocery store for it.

(Guess who paid $18 for a single cup of this Indonesian fried rice at a restaurant)

[shego1142]

I know yall probably know about poverty and generational poverty and what not but I just want to vent….

Because like… the things people don’t like know about generational poverty unless they’re experiencing it is just how… trapped you feel… weighed down by absolutely everything.

See I honestly think something may be up with our gas line

Which is a terrifying thought.

Now, idk if it’s a leak per se (though we’ve got the windows cracked just in case) but if we turn on our stove the gas smell is really strong, the flame flairs out of the sides of the stove, etc.

Shit that shouldn’t be happening.

Shit that is really fucking dangerous.

We know this is dangerous, we’re not stupid.

We know we should get it fixed.

But here’s the thing, okay?

The floors are just base boards, they’re falling in and there’s holes everywhere.

There’s rats that we’ve tried every trick in the book to get rid of, short of hiring an exterminator. We’ve borrowed traps, had traps “gifted” to us, tried poisons that friends and family have bought for us, etc. It cuts them down but they come back.

All of our food is in thick sealed plastic containers and yet they’ve eaten some of the containers open. They even ate our soap and makeup and cleaning supplies and that didn’t seem to stop them. (Our soap and cleaning supplies are now in plastic containers too but idk how long it will deter them, and the makeup is thrown away)

We have shoddy wiring in the house, done by my own grandpa back in the 70’s when they first bought this place.

Our roof has cracks in it that have failing patches, done by a family friend.

Our AC doesn’t exactly work very well and it’s been reaching 100°F weather (with 70% humidity no less) and to fix it we’d need $10k at least, but we’d also need new flooring, so it would likely be more than that…

Etc.

And like, it’s not that the house is dirty, but that it’s falling apart.

And here’s the deal… calling someone who knows what’s what about houses to check the stove means calling someone who is going to inspect the whole house, someone who’s going to say:

“hey uh, your gas is messed up and your electricity is messed up and so’s your plumbing… Your floors are bad… we have to condemn this house and if you can’t pay to fix it up then you’re going to lose it.”

And it’s not like we got this house and destroyed it by a lack of maintenance, this house is like, 50+ years old, and has been my home since I was born.

My grandma and I couldn’t take care of everything because my grandpa had Alzheimer’s and he was going downhill and it was me and her caring for him.

My health is really bad and I can’t work a regular day job because of it, but I haven’t been able to hire a lawyer to apply for disability, so we’re living off one income and whatever side gigs I can do from time to time.

We don’t have the money to pay the mortgage, buy groceries, pay the home insurance, the gas bill, pay medical bills, buy pet food, etc and also then pay for our house to be inspected and potentially condemned for things I didn’t even do in the first place, things that came before I inherited this house…

My whole family has been poor my whole life, from my great great grandparents to my parents, etc.

It was always “you don’t pay for a professional to fix it, you either fix it yourself or get a family member or a friend of a friend to fix it”

Which means that if we ask a building inspector to tell us what’s wrong with the house… well… it’s going to probably be everything. Because this house has never been “professionally” fixed, it’s only ever had family members and friends of family members slap duct tape over glaring issues and say they’ll only charge you a glass of sweet tea.

Which means it’ll probably cost nearly the entire value of the house to fix tbh.

I just feel like I’m on a ship that’s sinking and way more water is coming in than I could ever manage to get out. I keep trying to patch the leaks but the materials just not available, and besides, if I stop bailing out the water for even a second to go and try and patch the leak, I’ll go fully underwater.

And you know, it’s not fair. It’s not right that it’s like this. This is our home and we love it. This has been my home for years and we love this house, this land, the trees and plants that grow, everything here is loved. It’s cared for. We try to take pride in it.

But you wouldn’t know that because we’re too busy trying to bail out that sinking ship. We’re too busy from constantly working and cleaning and repairing.

It’s not okay that it’s set up that way. We need help, we need community. We should be able to call someone and be like “Hey, we love this house, we’ve never been late on a payment, we’ve worked our butts off to try and keep things going, but we need help. Can you look at everything this house needs to function and be in good condition and help us get those things?”

Like, hell a payment plan option would work, wouldn’t it? Why isn’t that the done thing?

I mean, I know why, the more houses that are taken from the poor means the more real estate that’s available for the rich, they’re already trying to make our whole neighbourhood into some corporate venture instead of a residential area. And besides, if they manage to make us homeless they’d be just as happy throwing us in jail for the “crime” of being homeless and poor and making money off free labour.

Like that’s why it’s normal practice not to help anyone keep their home when they actually have a home. The system is set up for you to fail unless your family is at least moderately wealthy.

It’s just such an unforgiving cycle. And I know I’m beating a dead horse with this vent. I know that like over half of America’s population is likely in the same shitty place we’re in.

It’s just… I’m so tired of being in cycles like these.

I’m too sick to work, too poor to afford to get on disability, and both too poor and too exhausted to go to the doctor to get proper treatment, and it’s just a loop.

I’m too exhausted to fix the house, too busy cleaning the house to rest, too exhausted to make money to have professionals help fix the house, rinse and repeat.

The house breaking down is very likely making me more sick, but I’m too sick to be able to get the house fixed.

My grandparents didn’t have money to fix the house, my parents don’t have money to fix theirs, I don’t have money to fix my house.

Every step forward is like ten steps backwards and I genuinely don’t know what the solution to all of this is.

I feel so fucking trapped. I don’t even have the energy to run a gofundme for myself to try and get the help we need, because it takes so so much to to actually get a gofundme up and off the ground, I have tried before and it’s always been a failure because I just literally never have enough energy for it.

We have so many things we’d love to do. We’d love to make this house into an eco-friendly, sustainable home, with solar panels and a huge garden. We want to make a farm stand with fresh eggs and vegetables and fruit and let it operate on an honour system, so anyone who needs food can take what they need and pay what they can, yes even if it’s $0. I want to crochet hats and mittens and set those out too, for sale or just for those who need them…

We want so badly to take care of our community… but it feels like our community isn’t there to support us, not because people don’t want to support one another but because we’re all trapped or are being prevented from supporting one another.

Because having a farm-stand means you need to buy business licenses… building a sustainable home means you need to buy a building permit.

Every step of the way feels like good intentions are wasted, road-blocked.

I can’t even begin to explain how many jobs I’ve applied to, writing, editing, working as a cook or a waiter, data entry, etc.

In school they told me I’d be able to do anything I wanted to. I was a “gifted” straight A student and as I’m sure many people on this site know, that’s not bragging. It’s the opposite. The school system, the system that is supposed to help me be successful in life, told me I would be, and now I would be lucky to make $7.25/an hour while living in a place where the minimum liveable wage is $35/an hour.

It costs $35 an hour for one person to live moderately comfortably in my town. And this isn’t an arbitrary number, it’s literally on our county’s government ran poverty assessment website.

And that’s not a thriving wage it’s a surviving wage. It’s Home, Food, Utilities, Transportation & Clothes.

It leaves no room for medical care, comfort, entertainment, etc.

So what the hell are those of us who are working for anything less than that, or those of us unable to work, supposed to do?!

And like I said, I know I’m preaching to a choir rn, I know everyone is experiencing some version of this. I just… I need to be able to express it from time to time. To talk about how unfair and ridiculous and needlessly cruel this is.

It’s so deeply flawed and evil that we’re unable to have legitimate health concerns inspected because we’re worried about the house being taken away from us.

It’s trash. It’s inhumane.

And if anyone has any like… suggestions or advice that would be great… I’m considering just having our gas service canceled by our gas company and buying a small electric grill instead… but our gas also powers our hot water heater so…

:/

[undercooked-icicle]

Trump announcing that if he wins this election people won't have to vote again because, and I quote, 'I four years your not gonna have to vote again because we'll have it fixed so good youre not gonna have to" is crazy.

[olympeline]

Okay but there’s no way Arthur gets the bleeding for every one of his ex-colonies. England, later the UK, had 65 territories which eventually gained independence. 65. Hima says Arthur’s condition “collapses around the 4th of July” which implies it’s not just the day itself he gets sick. Even if we take a conservative estimate and say it’s only one day before and one day after, that’s still roughly 195 days per year of bleeding if the same thing happens to him for every former colony. So more than half of each year he should be completely fucked and crashed out in bed. There’s just no way that can be right. Nation-people seem like busy folk with a whole bunch of jobs and responsibilities. If Arthur was that screwed up, surely one of his bros would have replaced him as the UK’s rep by now.

Which makes me wonder just what’s so special about Alfred. Why did losing him and only him have such a profound effect on Arthur? When he wasn’t even all that important a possession of Britain back in the day. Just kidding, there’s no need to wonder. We all know why. 😳🤫 What actually does make me wonder is whether Alfred even knows Arthur gets the blood spitting for him. He doesn’t seem to be aware of it in the anime. He sees Arthur is ill but doesn’t make the connection, IIRC. If Arthur maintained his distance around the 4th and swore the other nations to secrecy, maybe Alfred has been kept in the dark all these years? It could be a big revelation to Al when he eventually finds out. Especially if it’s before certain feelings are revealed on both sides:

Alfred: WTF?! Arthur coughs up blood on independence days?! But he had so many colonies! How does he keep up with all his nation duties?! D:

Arthur’s other ex-colonies who are well aware he’s never bled for any of them: