#headlines; psa

[theragamuffininitiative]

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[agayconcept]

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[voleuxe]

fixing tags (in theory) dwbi

[everyonesfavoritenotetaker]

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[healerelowen]

Vent cw

I’ve never been so distraught and conflicted about anything.

I’m sad for all the lives taken in Israel. For every person killed by Israel’s government and by the Hamas attack. For every family killed or torn apart because of this war that’s been stretching out for years now. Friendships that have been ended from death or different stand points.

I’m scared for every Jew in the world. From the result of the Hamas attack, the largest massacre of Jews since the holocaust, an uptick in antisemitism will form. I can only hope it hasn’t taken more lives than warranted in this situation. I’m just as fearful for every child that has to endure such terror.

I’m angry for how this situation is being treated by many. How the Hamas attack has been swept under the rug and almost completely ignored. How Palestinians are treated as the only victims. As if all of the Israeli lives taken away don’t matter and are only used to put Palestinians up on a pedestal.

Everyone is being fucking killed right now.

Stop treating everyone who’s worried about those in Israel support Israel’s government or entirely support Palestinians.

Palestinians are not the only people who are suffering or are scared.

Innocent lives are innocent lives.

[almost-nearly-perfect]

tag dump!

[rcbberhose]

ooc tags 1/2

「 📺 」   backstage tour  » ooc

「 📺 」   opening fanmail  » ask

「 📺 」    members of staff  » anon

「 📺 」   meet and greet  » open

「 📺 」   under the spotlight  » thread

「 📺 」   headlines in the paper  » memes

「 📺 」  corporate announcements  » psa

「 📺 」   lights camera action  » starter call

「 📺 」   song producing  » plotting call

「 📺 」   welcome to the show  » promo

「 📺 」   the tv screen  » pinned

[totallynotcensorship]

tags update: gaza, palestine, free palestine, free gaza, israel, yemen, tel aviv, palestine news, iran, jerusalem are all trending... 4 front page

QUICK psa

the attack on the Iranian embassy(just like israel's other attacks on syria, Lebanon, iraq, egypt, west bank, ect.) have been largely ignored by western media outlets so get ready for a ton of news headlines trying to act as if iran's actions were unprovoked

quick catch up:

a couple of weeks ago(april 1st 2024) israel bombed the iranian consulate annex building adjacent to the iranian embassy in Damascus... quick geography class, that is in syria. the attack killed 16 people

sense attacking a country's embassy constitutes an attack on that country's soil iran has started retaliatory attacks sense the 13th. and now israel is calling for an emergency meeting in the UN.. the same UN they ignored for months on end

DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT INJUSTICE

[shootingst4rpress]

last night i was on the verge of falling asleep and i suddenly had this vivid image in my mind of a link that was being passed around tumblr on the understanding that it was some kind of very important psa, but the embed was just a photo of a man in a field and a headline that said 'Know him for his mole attacks and seek shelter.' and it was so funny to me i woke up. so obviously the next day i made it on my website

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟓   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   THE DEN & NAKAWE PALACE, AUGUST 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  She’ll be here any minute.' Arnaut proffered yet another empty explanation to fill the silence. The premier granted forty-five minutes, but he had already spent fifteen giving intermittent assurances that Leonor was en route, delayed in some unpreventable way. Although known as gregarious and energetic, Premier Eladio Guillen sat across from Arnaut this entire time with a small, static smile. The anticipatory silence that dragged on seemed not to faze him. Waiting grated Arnaut’s nerves, meanwhile, as did attempting to puzzle out Guillen’s thoughts. Every minute of quiet that passed constituted some kind of failed test, he was certain. Yet, he exhausted his list of aide-approved topics within the first three minutes, and Guillen resisted his efforts to sidetrack the stillborn conversation into small talk. It could only be taken as a clear, loud message that the premier preferred to sit in total silence than humor Arnaut’s attempts. 

❧ important psa: leonor is her grandmother's granddaughter; additionally, i did not proofread much and should've so sdjfsdf if you notice anything off, no you didn't !!!

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

In fact, Leonor was due to be there any minute. She was in the parking garage of Nakawe Palace's complex, and she had arrived there just ten minutes past the appointed time. What kept her was the newspaper she’d snagged from a stand on Oceanside Avenue. It wasn’t a respectable publication, certainly not Nakawe’s paper of record, but its headline for the day caught her eye. That was rare. Even if tabloid chatter affected her subliminally, she wasn’t one to read the stories or pay much attention to the headlines. The newsstands she passed in the course of daily life were easy to ignore; someone delivered her preferred papers and magazines each morning, whether or not she planned to open them. This paper’s claim cut through the inane, sensational fabrications about her body, her love life, the silly woes with which some two-bit copywriter claimed to empathize.

It was almost certain that her having bought a copy of the day’s paper accusing her drug abuse would become tomorrow’s headline. At any rate, the shocked vendor stared. So too did other pedestrians as they passed. The speculation wrote itself. Why, after all, would she have bothered if there wasn’t something to it? Incensed, morbid curiosity wouldn’t do. There had to be a more salacious explanation; it was the one that argued her interest was somehow proof of guilt. But, the simple truth was that she had gasped at the sight of it: a grabby headline, juxtaposed photos innocuous on their own but damning in this contrived context, an authoritative quotation of concern from some anonymous acquaintance. The front page promised a full story unfurled inside, and Leonor, who had never been accused of wrongdoing in her life, became consumed with the need to know every lie printed within the pages. 

As she sat in the car, reading about how her alter-self had become obsessed with benzos and tried heroin with a hard rock band, she knew there was no recourse. The Crown wouldn’t respond. These papers could publish whatever they liked, and they weighed that freedom against the constriction of access it only sometimes engendered. Leonor’s people had been silent and inflexible since winter—a moribund policy rolled over from before, when she was an off-limits teenager regarded as inseparable from the entity of her mother. Perhaps that was why she became fair game once the mourning moratorium lifted. More likely, the press’s the dark underbelly dwellers knew the larger apparatus of the royal family saw value in any public discourse about its members. Individual reputations were less of a concern, especially when the Crown itself and more reputable papers churned out flattering, factual stories to complicate any emerging narratives. For some time, gossip and relevance went hand-in-hand. Beatriz’s vision of the monarchy was increasingly a flirtatious one, winking when provocation paid off and demurring when it didn’t. Leonor had never needed to think too hard about it. Her mother went through the grinder time and time again, but her popularity remained intact, and she hadn’t ever let on, at least to her daughter, how terrible it felt. 

It was within Leonor’s power to huddle her team and insist they at least pretend to respond. Her little household was hardly autonomous, but it didn’t need to be. Leonor complaining to her grandparents about rude tabloids would get her nowhere; a conversation among aides about public relations, on the other hand, at least created an official paper trail of bureaucratic value. Yet, that was why she found herself frustrated. This paper she held in her hands trumpeted glaring, clumsy lies. Those lies, however, didn’t need to be rooted in fact if they had been planted in a context that made them feel plausible. For the average Uspanian, the takeaway wasn’t in the details. Most people cast idle glances at the newsstands, noticing ugly candids and buzzwords, passively gleaning less of a coherent story and more of an ambient sense. Leonor’s new friends and hangouts weren’t the kind of blank slate she had been. They came with their own public associations, jumbled facts, wild fabrications. These particular details were false, and The Den remained a locked vault to the public, but it wasn’t outlandish to imagine her as part of the scene if ample photographs and videos suggested she was. 

Leonor closed the paper and laid it on the passenger seat. It sat there, folded, for just a few seconds before she snatched it up again. Quickly, angrily, she tore at it. It wouldn’t rip down the middle, so she yanked out the pages instead. They shredded into scraps as she pulled wildly with haphazard, hurried fingers. Almost as fast as the impulse struck, it ran out of steam. Leonor stopped what she was doing and, feeling satisfied but far from content, tossed the mangled paper into the backseat. 

When Leonor entered the premier’s sitting room, Arnaut watched with disbelief. She strolled in appearing unperturbed by her tardiness, and the apology she offered to Guillen as he rose to clasp her hands was simple at best. It didn’t bother him. His reception of her made his demeanor toward Arnaut earlier that afternoon seem lukewarm—unwelcoming, even. They interacted like people who were well-acquainted; Guillen’s famed charm leapt out as he kissed her cheek and made a joke about Nakawe’s drivers, and Leonor took up space in the room with ease.

Arnaut knew, in theory, he had received an upbringing not dissimilar from hers. They learned the same rules of comportment, and they learned the art of politics from the same teachers. In preparation for today, they had received the same briefs with identical preparation from the same team of aides. Yet, as Leonor settled into the sofa beside him and suggested with unimpeachable authority that they get to work, Arnaut felt the distance between them stretch to its true size. There was no substitute for experience, and there was no hiding its absence. Arnaut had been on the periphery of Uspanian public life for over a decade. Everyone remembered him as the immature, troublesome spare he had been. They viewed his life abroad as suspect. Worse, each day brought a litany of small reminders that no one much cared about who he was now or who he intended to become. 

The television summarized it well just a few nights prior. These days, Arnaut watched news broadcasts as if it were a ritual, often doing so with a pen and pad that Lorraine politely ignored. USB’s evening news hour aired interviews with passersby on the streets of Nakawe as part of its programming. One elderly woman, prompted for an opinion on the crown prince, had furrowed her brow deep and hard. ‘Well, I think he is in for the most tragedy,’ she said finally. ‘People don’t change at forty. They just don’t. I lived long enough to know. You grow up right into who you are. So, what Uspana needs, he isn’t.’

Arnaut had been so immediately agitated by despair that he leapt from the couch and began to pace, talking aloud of how easy it would be to identify the woman, to find out where she lived, to go there with a box of sweets and get on his knees and beg her to change her mind. ‘Let me prove it to you,’ he would plead, holding her frail hands. Perhaps he would cling to her feet and even  pepper the crooked toes peeking from her sandals with supplicatory kisses. ‘Give me a few good years to show you that I’m different.’ That was how he would frame it, too. She was right that it was a fool’s errand to prove he could change. What he hoped—the hopes that were, almost daily, dashed to dust—was that someone different lurked under the surface, suffocated for too long but real enough to show his face if Arnaut somehow found a way.

That way was elusive, although Arnaut knew he would never find it if he capitulated so easily. Today’s meeting felt bungled already, but he pushed himself to see Leonor’s arrival as a reset, as a reinvigoration, rather than a performance of naturality that he could never possess. He struggled to believe in his heart that the ability to rule flowed through his veins as much as hers, but it was more compelling to remind himself that he had been trained for this, too. Had he been as serious about it as she had, that deceptive distance between them would be more of a trench than a canyon. What mattered now was exactly that: he was serious now and, if the unexplained absence meant anything, perhaps even more serious than she was. 

As the conversation turned to business, Guillen let out a sigh. “Fast-tracking legislation when there’s a passing is no way to run a government,” he explained, his tone light and wry even as he regarded them both with an earnest look of condolence. 

“We’d be doubling offshore drilling in memory of Mario Esparza,” Leonor quipped. The comment prompted a laugh from Guillen, who pointed at Leonor and nodded emphatically. 

Arnaut, meanwhile, sat bemused and wearing a vacant smile. The name didn’t ring a bell. He knew enough about the politics to understand why the policy idea was ridiculous, but he wasn’t privy to the personal backstory that gave it flavor in this context. Arnaut had once believed the capital to be a slow-paced, change-resistant bastion of tradition. The monarchy was sometimes accused of being arrested by its reverence for the old ways, and the legislative assembly had its own superficial but no less real way of doing things. People were the backbone of that. Perhaps naively, Arnaut had expected to find the same names in circulation a decade later. He hadn’t accounted for the turnover, but he also hadn’t accounted for how poorly acquainted with those people—with them, with their place in politics, with their connections to others, with the culture that glued them all together—he had been. It was difficult to insert himself now, knowing he had passed up the opportunity to belong as intuitively to this world as everyone around him did. 

Having noticed Arnaut’s expression, Guillen asked, “You remember Mario, right? You’ve met Paula?”

“His wife?” Arnaut, with the urgency of panic, responded.

Leonor snorted, and Guillen raised his brows before clarifying, “His daughter. She’s filling his seat until the provincial election is held, so I assumed—”

“Forgive my uncle,” Leonor said, casting a look his way. “He’s not in the know about any of this. Good thing it’s not his job to be, huh?”

It was clear Guillen wanted to chuckle, but he remained quiet with his lips quirked in a smile that Arnaut found somehow just as offensive. He looked away from the premier’s expression to regard Leonor with quizzical eyes. 

Apparently not finished, Leonor added, “You haven’t asked yet, but I’m going to assume Diago Tegridia has been talking to you. He’s never been a fan—especially not of the part about funding students’ studying abroad. My mother planned to massage him on it, but he won’t take any of my uncle’s calls, so—” 

Arnaut, growing nervous, laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t say that—”

“No? I suspect it’s because he offended him during a hallway chat,” Leonor said with a shrug. “Like with Paula? Similar misstep. If you don’t know who’s who and what’s what, that makes it hard to do business, doesn’t it?” 

“That’s not relevant, Leonor, is it?” Arnaut asked. From the corner of his eye, he saw Guillen sitting with the same amused, forbearing smirk on his face. “This meeting has nothing to do with Representative Tegridia, and definitely not a casual conversation we might’ve had.”

With an eyeroll, Leonor laughed, “There, see?”

Guillen nodded and offered Arnaut what was, it seemed, his best attempt at a placating smile. “I’ll admit,” he began, looking from Arnaut to Leonor, “Diago does have strong opinions, and I’ve been inclined to hear him out where he has expertise. But, alright, why don’t you walk me through the particulars again—to save time, just make the counterargument to his?” 

Leonor turned more fully to face Arnaut, her expression expectant. They stared at each other for a long moment while he assessed the challenging look in her eyes and what she wanted from him,. He remained all too aware that Guillen was staring and judging, too. More than a challenge, Arnaut saw mischief in her eyes. Leonor was unwilling to look away or say anything. The corners of her lips were curled—not altogether a smirk, perhaps something more predatory, as if she intended to bare her teeth instead of break into a smile. The more seconds passed, the more pleased she seemed. 

He turned back to Guillen with a sigh, concluding, “… I’ll let Leonor take the lead.”

TRANSCRIPT:

RENZO | Have I see you in blue? In person. LEONOR | Maybe once?

RENZO | It looks good. Black is better. Brown. White, whew. LEONOR | It’s for work. Work! I’m going to be late. Poor uncle.

RENZO | He’ll be alright? LEONOR | He’s a big boy. RENZO | Stick around a little longer? LEONOR | Nice try.

ARNAUT | She’ll be here in a minute.

GUILLEN | [Sighs] Fast-tracking legislation when there’s a passing is no way to run a government.

LEONOR | We’d be doubling offshore drilling in memory of Mario Esparza.

GUILLEN | You remember Mario, right? You’ve met Paula? ARNAUT | … His wife? [Leonor snorts] GUILLEN | His daughter. She’s filling his seat until the provincial election is held, so I assumed—

LEONOR | He’s not in the know about any of this. Good thing it’s not his job to be, huh?

LEONOR | You haven’t asked yet, but I’m going to assume Diago Tegridia has been talking to you. He’s never been a fan—especially not of the part about funding students’ studying abroad. My mother planned to massage him on it, but he won’t take any of my uncle’s calls, so— ARNAUT | Well, I wouldn’t say that—

LEONOR | No? I suspect it’s because he offended him during a hallway chat. Like with Paula? Similar misstep. If you don’t know who’s who and what’s what, that makes it hard to do business, doesn’t it? ARNAUT | That's not relevant, Leonor, is it?

ARNAUT | This meeting has nothing to do with Representative Tegridia, and definitely not a casual conversation we might’ve had. LEONOR | There, see?

GUILLEN | I'll admit, Diago does have strong opinions, and I’ve been inclined to hear him out where he has expertise. But, alright, why don’t you walk me through the particulars again—to save time, just make the counterargument to his?

ARNAUT | … I’ll let Leonor take the lead.

ARNAUT | Where are you going? We’re debriefing upstairs in five minutes. LEONOR | Clocking out early. ARNAUT | Did you let Central know? It’s a weekday. You can’t leave the premises without giving them notice. LEONOR | [Chuckles] No, you’re just not supposed to.

ARNAUT | You don’t think anyone will notice the … slacking off? Talk? LEONOR | What, are you going to tattle on me? ARNAUT | I don't have to. I’m just saying it’s a bad look. Trust me.

LEONOR | You should worry about yourself, uncle. Trust me.

[darkmaga-retard]

PSA:  Joe Biden is still the president of the United States. Biden has been hiding on a beach in Delaware ever since his disastrous debate with Donald Trump that hard-launched Kamala Harris as the Democrat nominee. Biden is speaking off the prompter once again and revealing hard truths that have been concealed from the public. The Inflation Reduction Act, the largest spending measure in American history, was never intended to reduce inflation.“We should have named it what it was!” Biden said at an event in Westby, Wisconsin, where he unsuccessfully attempted to tout the success of Bidenomics. The president referred to the Inflation Reduction Act as “the most significant CLIMATE CHANGE LAW ever,” adding, “by the way, it is a $369 billion bill, it’s called the–we we we should’ve named it what it was.”We now know without a shadow of a doubt that the Inflation Reduction Act increased inflation, similar to how the Affordable Care Act under Obama increased the costs of healthcare.Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen admitted the truth behind the Inflation Reduction Act last year, but the general public does not know of Yellen and her confession did not make headlines. “The Inflation Reduction Act is, at its core, about turning the climate crisis into an economic opportunity,” Yellen clearly stated. It provided the government with an opportunity to eliminate our energy independence. We did not have an energy crisis before Joe Biden took office. He killed the Keystone deal on his very first day in office and has been promoting the larger WEF Build Back Better plan at the expense of the nation. Biden implemented policies that worsened inflation and then convinced mindless politicians, who never read the large bills put forward, to vote for a $369 billion act under the premise of fixing a problem he created.

[olderthannetfic]

I think a quick PSA is in order:

The fans are not on strike!

You don't need to cancel your netflix

You can go watch Barbie AND Oppenheimer

You can continue posting fanart and fanfic

None of this is even remotely helpful. Don't make the strike about yourself. If you aren't working in the industry, you don't have a picket line to cross.

--

I suppose if a bunch of fans organized a mass boycott of something to the point that it made headlines and they had a spokesperson say it was in support of the strike, maybe that would do something productive.

That's a lot more organization than most people are actually going to engage in, and it would have to be massive to achieve anything.

[sexshopshenanigans]

This is a PSA please assume that every headline and article and quote we hear about our favourite (and more importantly our problematic unfavourite) actors and writers and union members for the foreseeable future will be propaganda.

Assume that if someone has the influence to put many eyes on one thing, they also have a motivation to misrepresent people and statements, and/or to create discord to keep people from trusting and supporting each other.

Do not trust anyone to give us the full context, the complete statement, the unbiased observation. We are suddenly going to start hearing about a lot of Terrible Views or Problematic Behaviour from a person we otherwise do not hear or think much about, who is coincidentally an influential member in the union or contributing meaningfully to strike actions. We are going to hear a lot of very reasonable arguments that maybe nobody should listen to or agree with anything that This Person has to say. It is not going to be explicitly linked to their position regarding the strikes.

We are going to hear a lot of criticism against the unions. We are going to read posts from Average People pointing out how unfair and mean-spirited the union’s expectations are for people. Some of these posts will come with screenshots from union communications, along with a “helpful explanation” of what this means for Us, the Non Union Members reading it. It will point out how difficult, inconvenient, or over-reaching these expectations are, according to This Person’s Very Legitimate Interpretation Of Them. It will not be explicitly linked to their position regarding the strikes.

We are going to hear and see and read a lot of things in the coming weeks and months. Some of it will be laughably blatant. Some of it won’t. We will need to be very critical, very patient, and very self-aware if we want to avoid falling for it, and we won’t always succeed. We do, however, need to keep trying. There is a vested interest in changing or creating our opinions, and a vested interest in keeping us from realizing how it is being done or who is attempting to do it. We Are Not Immune To Propaganda.

[thisgingerhasnosoul]

So, for those of you don’t know, I’m a fanfiction writer, and one of my readers usually comments after a post a new chapter via the asks feature. I follow them, because of course I do—so you can imagine my surprise when I saw they reblogged some… ignorant misinformation (it was about a certain celebrity who was fired for using antisemitic dogwhistles). And at first I thought, “Okay look, most people aren’t tuned into dogwhistles and they’re not paying close attention to what people are saying. They read headlines, and that’s it.” So I decided that I’ll PM them and just let them know that there was some misinformation in what they reblogged.

I got no answer.

Anyway, I don’t want to say they’re a bad person, because 1) obviously I don’t know them well, 2) they haven’t actually posted anything since before I messaged them so they might not have been online to see it, and 3) other than this, they haven’t posted anything bad that I could find. But do I feel like this is a good time to put out a PSA to everyone else. So—if you’re following me because you read my fanfiction, and you’re also irresponsibly peddling misinformation, dogwhistles, or outright hate about Jews and/or Israelis, then please kindly fuck off. My writing isn’t for you. It’s only for people who aren’t inciting hate and violence against my community.

[themarvelliteraryuniverse]

PSA and Info and whatever-have-you

I like dark, violent, and problematic plots. The more toxic and gut wrenching, the more of my attention it will have. Victor is my headliner for this reason. However, I can do simpler plots with general good feelings and fluff, but it might take me longer. I like action, I like DRAMA. Don't be afraid to come to me with a plot idea. I love to bounce ideas back and forth and build off of YOUR energy.

Canon is a jumping off point for me. It's a guideline I use to get started but if things go way off course, so be it. Canon is my play thing and I cherry pick the parts I like most.

None of my Muses are straight. Most of them are Bi or Pan, except for Sherlock who is almost exclusively Gay.

I am open to shipping, I am open to no strings attached fuck buddies, I am open to unrequitted pining. Just because my muse likes someone, does not mean they have to be liked back. In fact, it's more entertaining when not. I do require chemistry and also mun to mun chatting first though. The more comfortable I am with the writer, the more comfortable my character will be with the other character.

Crossovers are welcome! OCs are welcome! Character children (canon or otherwise) are welcome! Shawn is a combination of all of these.

I get overwhelmed easily and I will gravitate to Muns, Muses, and threads I'm familiar with when this happens.

I have the attention span of a goldfish. If you message me and I don't respond, nudge me a bit and I'll come back. I genuinely do just forget what I was doing.

I will block minors on sight. This blog and all interactions are strictly 21+. I'm pushing 30. I'm not lying about my age, don't lie about yours.

[fshoulders]

Sometimes you end up being an evangelist for something that isn’t life-changingly great and you don’t feel that strongly about, but which is good and no one is telling people about. As if, having suffered through a long-ass line for the women’s restrooms, one were to discover new, extra restrooms on the other side of the place that have been built but no one is taking any steps to advertise.

Anyway this post is about how there is in fact an effective, long-lasting mosquito repellent besides DEET. It is called picaridin, and it’s not very expensive or hard to get or anything. It doesn’t melt plastics, which DEET does (PSA! DEET and the repellent ingredient IR3535 can both melt synthetics, which often include your clothes.) Picaridin is sometimes better for people with skin sensitivities. (I have scent migraine triggers and it’s better for me than DEET.) Some people are sensitive to picaridin who don’t react to DEET, however: life is a rich tapestry.

There are other effective ingredients such as Oil of Lemon Eucalyptus (OLE) but they aren’t considered as long-lasting. I’m not saying there aren’t more options, just handing you a tract about picaridin. Which is not your lord and savior, but does exist and work, and does not melt your sunglasses.

Obviously, I’m not a mosquito repellent scientist, and you should read the directions. The science says DEET is better in some ways, and picaridin is better in some ways. It’s not magic, but it works way better for my life and I wish I had known about it sooner.

I’m writing this because I saw a post the other day warning about mosquito-borne diseases and linking a study from last year which concluded that DEET, picaridin, and OLE uncomplicatedly work. Yet the post, the headline and the take-away paragraph only mentioned DEET. Whyyyyyy.

Picaridin: it’s useful and not DEET. There are other bathrooms, ladies! Right over there!