#fuck idk how to tag this

[ace-up-your-sleeve]

shoutout to:

💙 animal regressiors, furries, and alterhumans who realized they were those things through nsfw pet play

💙 animal regressiors/alterhumans/furries who realized they were into nsfw pet play through their regression/alterhumanity/being a furry

💙 to regressors who sometimes get horny while regressed

💙 to horny alterhumans

💙 to horny furries

these things dont make you dirty or mean you fetishize regression or alterhumanity or that you are a zoophile and i love you!!!

[scorchrend]

did i forget to share this thing. it’s good i prommy

youtube link

[crashtestdummy1003]

So anyways I made my first skirt ever

I made it in my garage so just ignore the flooring lmao

I'm wearing it to my next figure skating lesson on tuesday yay

[foldingpaperflowers]

Hey art historian people, I'm hoping someone can help me figure this out. I bought this collage at a craft fair today, and I'm trying to figure out who did the original design.

Both the background and the main image were taken from the "Le Rire" magazine, I had assumed it was Lautrec but now I'm not too sure. I know it's from around the same time as him though.

[goon-writes-her-thoughts]

Homesick

I believe the answer to that question lies in my memories. No matter how depressing everyone seems to find Edmonton, my happier childhood memories happened within the city. Even when my life was falling apart in Alberta, I’m able to fondly remember so much about the River Valley. I remember the days of driving nearly three hours to go to Edmonton for something to do extremely fondly. Bumming around Strathcona, checking out every record store and comic book store with my dad is etched on my brain, coloured with hazy blue skies and vivid graffiti. Even in the winter, I still held Edmonton dear. Being as I haven’t been there since I was 15, I have a freeze frame of the city in my mind through the lens of childhood wonder. For me, I’ll always remember Edmonton as my happiest place on earth.

I remember, almost a decade ago, I was having a rough time in school. The details of the events in school aren’t something I enjoy remembering, but there came a boiling point where my dad was finally called in. The boiling point came one day in a class with a teacher I couldn’t stand. I blacked out for most of it, but from what I was told, it was an aggressive outburst that culminated in my taking off like a scared horse, ultimately leading to suspension and then finally expulsion. I snapped out of the blackout halfway home, looking down off a bridge to the tracks below. My step mom was calling my name, wondering what I was doing out of school. After that, there was no hiding what was going on with me. Thankfully, my father recognized what was happening to me as distress rather than pure recalcitrance. The next day, he took me into Edmonton, partially to see a shrink on Jasper Ave, partially to lighten my spirits. It was a dad and Goon day. We hit all the record stores, ate at my favourite pub, and even checked out Axe Music so I could play some guitar. That day felt perfect. It was sunny and bright, and it was my first time hearing Joshua Tree cover to cover. To this day, Joshua Tree takes me back to Strathcona on a sunny day where I felt incredibly loved. That’s what the word Edmonton reminds me of: the fact that I was and am loved. It was one of many perfect days spent in Edmonton.

As I grew older, I grew jaded and cynical; especially around the time I moved to New Brunswick. I didn’t know all the cool spots, I wasn’t sandwiched between two cities people outside of Canada had heard of, and the people in my town were from different walks of life. I felt alienated by everyone I met. I was going from one homogeneous group of kids to another, except I was not homogeneous with these people. I was painfully othered, largely due to my own ignorance. Until I was 10, I wasn’t fully aware there were careers other than military, oil worker and garbage man. It wasn’t until I moved to New Brunswick that I actually met people whose parents weren’t any of those things. My worldview needed to shift, but I never knew how to do that. The people I was going to school with had known each other since kindergarten and I was an uncommon new face. At that time, and even still, I couldn’t think of anything more claustrophobic than going through the growing pains of life with such a large audience. Even though I was closer to my birth place than ever before, I felt so disconnected and lonely. It was at this point that my idealistic version of Edmonton made my heart hurt. For the first time in my life, I was homesick.

I know now that what I missed wasn’t just Edmonton, nor was it home. What I missed was a sense of community and an era of my life where I was closer to my family, emotionally speaking. What a lot of people fail to realize about military families, is that no matter where I went, I had my family and a close-knit community of kids in the same boat. I was always an odd kid, but I was odd in a very palatable way to the other kids I grew up with. Fundamentally, our situations were the same: one or both of our parents were in the military. Our personalities and interests were secondary since we already had one important thing in common.

When I moved to a town as far removed from CADPAT as possible, I had inadvertently lost my community. It was for that reason that high school was tough. When I started grade ten, I experienced culture shock. Not only did I lose my community, but I also lost the amenities that came with living close to Edmonton. Moncton was close, but it was a sorry replacement for a place like Edmonton. Halifax, though it’s my birth place, also paled in comparison, even though it's objectively speaking a prettier city. Maybe had I not lost my community, I’d have felt more favourably towards these places, but the damage was done. When I moved to New Brunswick, it felt like I’d lost everything. The people at my high school only made that loss more devastating.

As I spent day after day withdrawn and angry, my family grew further and further apart. I was growing up and it was normal, but I wasn’t ready for it to happen. Through my entire run at my high school in New Brunswick, I never had any friends that I preferred hanging out with over my dad. Unfortunately, part of growing up is hanging out with people who aren’t your dad. Gradually, our Saturday morning drives, our post-dinner shenanigans and our morning coffee faded. All those things I cherished from my childhood were becoming memories. While I should have blamed growing up, I have always blamed New Brunswick. Going through the painful parts of becoming an adult all happened for me feeling completely alone, surrounded by people I called friends that I couldn’t stand, in New Brunswick. I was angry. I wanted to blame my friends, I wanted to blame geographic location, I wanted to blame my school, but it was all just the normal phenomenon of growing up.

Knowing all this now, I’m hesitant to go back to Edmonton. I know I’d see Alberta for what it really is if I were to go back. I’d see it with the same jaded eyes that I’ve been seeing New Brunswick with for almost 9 wretched years. As much as I feel suffocated by having lived in one place as long as I ever had, I would feel so much worse if my idealised version of Alberta was ruined for me. I know that if I were to go back to Edmonton, I’d be disappointed because as much as I can go back to a place, I can’t go back to a time. No matter how much I try, I can’t go back to listening to U2 with my dad in his old toyota. I can’t go back to running around the Old Strathcona Antique Mall looking for old Nintendo games with my dad and brother. I can’t go back to listening to Jack Layton’s funeral on CBC at the Fabyan campsite. I can’t go back to hearing Bittersweet Symphony as I walked down the stairs after a shift at my first job. I can’t go back to Jack’s Place Cafe after my grade 9 band performance for a latte with my dad. I can’t go back to the happiness I felt as a child with a plane ticket. I’ll never get those moments back because I don’t miss a place: I just miss how things were when I lived there. If I were to go back to Edmonton now, what I just said would finally be real in my head. If I were to go back now, those memories of childhood joy would be corrupted by my adulthood cynicism. My heart aches for Edmonton every day, but I’ll never go back.

As a military child, places and life’s eras become so intertwined. A feeling of nostalgia presents as homesickness. Going back home isn’t possible because home doesn’t exist as it does for others. Home is more of an abstract concept, the kind that’s difficult to articulate in words. Home is so personal that, when asked where home is, I feel uncomfortable answering. In a lot of ways, home is where my family is, but my family isn’t all under one roof. They’re scattered around the maritimes, all equally displaced from where they feel is home. Home is somewhere where you feel safe, home is somewhere you you can feel rested and at ease. Home for me will never be in one place. Home is scattered and disjointed, held together by people, emotions and memories. Home is somewhere that was articulated best by Stompin’ Tom Connors: “wherever you find a heart that’s kind, you’re in a part of my stompin’ ground”. I’ve seen many beautiful parts of this country, and I now have the mental clarity to see beauty everywhere. They say home is where the heart is, but I’ve left pieces of my heart in many places I’ve lived and visited. Home is Canada, but more specifically, home is my idealistic version of Edmonton that solely exists in my memory.

[noelledeltarune]

EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt

[spacetravels]

today at work i got hit with a plane

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

funniest news blurb i've ever seen actually. "there was a plot to kill trump last weekend. no not that one. totally different one. we figured out about it beforehand though so we heightened security at the rally. yeah that rally. yeah the one where-- yeah. yeah that one."

[sabertoothwalrus]

does science experiments on you (homoerotically)

[ohposhers]

shitpost based off of something that happened when I was watching my buddy play Chao Island smhhh

[ilov3b00kss0much]

seen a lot of these. why not.

At 10 notes I post a quick thingy everyday.

at 25 notes I talk more about my book.

At 50 notes I try to drink at least 2 cups of water a day.

at 75 notes i eat two actual meals a day (lunch doesn't make sense, ok?)

at 100 notes, I ask my friends or family to ask me before physical contact (not both!!!)

at 500, I explain my gender identity to my grandparents

at 1000, I promise to ask a friend for help if I'm having a depressive episode. (if you get it here, I will personally come after ya'll with a knife)

at 2500, I tell my parents when I'm having a depressive episode

at 5000, I tell my therapist mayyyybe I should get tested for depression

at 100000000 I ask my therapist for an autism evaluation (I will fuck ya'll up if you get it here its not possible ha)

Edit: y’all may notice I changed it to therapist. Due to a few recent developments (aka my parents are ableist zionist shitholes) it would be pretttttty unsafe for me to do that. So uh. Yeah. Sorry!!!

Edit 2: YOU DID IT. YOU FUCKING DID IT. HOW. FUCKING GOD. JFKDIVKNGRBHJVIJDFKSN *SCREAMS*. NICE TIMING LOL I THINK IM HAVING A DEPRESSIVE EPISODE FUCKING GOD HOW JUST BGHFVDNUJNCJDKSNDCJNDKMSL YOU ARE INSANE YOU ARE INSANE *SCREAMS AGAIN* YALL ARE SUPERHUMANS FUCKING GOD

[7roaches]

sorry that took like an hour i stopped to eat dinner heres my idea

[graye]

Rumors say this is what tipped Anakin to the Dark side.

[lobeliaprince]

don t look at m e with those e y e s

[jayevrd]

do you guys think he has enough belts yet

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

I have been posting a LOT about Zombies recently, so in order to add some more post variety, I'm gonna talk abt how the sound design The Lorax(2012) is complete fucking ASS-

Now, I am by no means a professional sound designer. The most experience I have in the field is using Soundtrap for school projects and some basic editing in Kinemaster. HOWEVER! I do n o t think it takes a professional to hear how terrible the editing is for the songs in that movie.

In songs like the opening number, Everybody Needs A Thneed, and Let It Grow, it's especially evident. All of those songs have solo parts, and oh my GOD the solo parts are so much louder than the ensemble??? Like whoever was editing it got super insecure about the ensemble being too loud or something so they made them literally as quiet as possible without fully muting them.

ALSO! The sound effects in How Bad Can I Be are fucking ATROCIOUS!!!!!! Like I have listened to the soundtrack version of it many, m a n y times(HBCIB and Biggering are the only songs from the movie I've ever listened to outside of when my brother forces me to watch it lol), and it's actually a pretty good song! It's catchy, and Ed Helms' vocals are really good! But oh my GOD they did NOT need to make all those sound effects so fucking loud during the sequence in the movie???? There are points where it sounds like he's in a small, echoey room because whoever edited it for the movie made his voice so fucking quiet. It sucks the life out of the song, which is n o t g o o d because How Bad Can I Be is an incredibly energetic number and doesn't WORK if the sound effects are overpowering it!

Idk man it's just really frustrating. The movie came out like 11 years ago, so I know somebody's probably talked abt this before, but my brother made me watch that movie TWICE in RELATIVELY CLOSE SUCCESSION recently so I HAVE to complain abt it.