#in this house we don't respect the kool-aid man

[luminantjess]

[vaspider]

You mentioned earlier that a closed religion doesn't mean you can stare in through the windows and loudly comment on what's going on inside - 100% heard. Are there ways that gentiles can observe Jewish culture that don't feel gross? To extend your metaphor - I don't want to be observing through the windows in a private home, but I do find all of the discussions and questions and answers interesting to read. I admire the respect and dedication that goes into that sort of scholarship.

Well, if you're invited in, that's one way, right? If someone invites you to an event, definitely go. But then you're in someone's house, whether literally or metaphorically, so use your guest manners.

As far as on here? It's okay to read, it's okay to listen, and we are often okay with people asking respectful questions. When it is okay to do the latter is very much a "read the room" situation, and it is better to ask someone off the thread (like sending an ask) if you're not sure if you'd be disruptive.

But like, to pick a particularly contentious issue that isn't I/P out of the air, there's a very ... let's call it a robust dialogue going on around circumcision within the community (THIS IS NOT A THREAD FOR ACTUALLY DISCUSSING IT, DO NOT START, I WILL IMMEDIATELY BLOCK YOU IF YOU DO). That discussion is for us, and between us, and it's not really the business of anyone other than us, and if someone decided to kool-aid man into the middle of one of our conversations about it, that would fucking suck.

Personally, I don't care if goyim reblog stuff that's just between us if the post isn't marked otherwise, but like... if it's clearly an intracommunity conversation and you decide to reblog it, your thoughts should remain inside thoughts. (Even in tags, IMO, bc whoever you reblog from will see those in their notifications.)

This is, of course, my opinion, and 2 Jews 3 Opinions so listen to other people about their posts.

To extend the original metaphor, what you see on your dash is what's freely visible from the street. As long as you don't make it so we can't help but notice you, you are probably okay. You know?

[torithegrey]

After talking with my family, I feel I am best not to return to work. Respectfully, I do not do well being caught in the middle of conflicting data. I said I was ready for demotion last Sunday, per DM's advisement of

If it takes 2 managers to say yes, then I am saying yes to being done. I need to focus on home, and achieving work life balance.

This job is, indeed, fun. It is not paying the bills.

I say these from a place void of ego.

No one above the store manager should be calling the shots without being invested in being a foot soilder once in a while. That means working the register during peak training season. That will help with better quality control, as new talent will be exposed to Kool DM, rather than "Boss Man." All faces wearing a metaphorical Spencer's Hat, should be participating as Party Hosts on the floor.

Quit throwing away and destroying what we could be donating in house. If theft is the concern, then core staff should be compensated a livable wage, so "potential" destruction of company assets is less a concern.

We should not have destroyed product from Phluid. If we need localized information per store, as to where and how to direct aid, then maybe a remote Social Work position COULD be considered.

Gender affirming care is such a pain to get, expensive (especially without fair, affordable, in house insurance.) NOT to mention, deadly in less progressive areas. Destroying those binders gave me worse ethical ick than the amount of paper Barnes and Nobel college went through JUST to maintain a system that easily COULD have switched to digital tags, given the company parent parentships.

If you would like us to reduce paperwaste in store? Get the damn merchandising done consistently with ALL detailed RELEVANT data available quickly on the tablet. That way budding leadership doesn't feel like they HAVE to reinvent the wheel, with consistently moving goals posts of expectation, to no personal gain. Bonuses should be distributed equally among ALL leadership, equally. Including full time CORE staff as determined by actual foot traffic.

On GSM is Off, they get a GSM on duty, of their selection, to sync up with (one on, one off) to take urgent calls at the CO-STORE. So if the co-store is STORE 1234 store, then STORE 1234 is available for questions at STORE 1234, and GSM is OFF DUTY. District/ Parental placement should be irrelevant, if quality is consistently monitored. So DM, your on off partner could be a store GSM. To ensure retainment toward your retirement.

I put up with leadership showing clear signs of burnout, and shared the ways it was impacting business. If there are legality issues preventing accommodations for all brains in mind (guest and Party Host alike) then maybe the ship needs to sink. I don't suggest that option, as you have a highly talented CORE-team. Treat them as such.

Again. I say this with respect, with full understanding this could mean termination without possibility of rehire, and I am okay with that. Especially if it means I can dedicate time to my entire family.

All of the people who invested their stories into my inspiration. They deserve the comfort of my success.

Love you ALL. Ready to Marry music. I'll let ya know when my next party is live. 🥰

Sincerely,

Ex-Cheif Enforcement Officer,

Love and Light Black Ops 💅✍️

Victoria Smith ☠️🖤☠️🖤

[the-croissant]

Episode 1 - Lockdown

Hey guys, Im starting to write out a fictional radio show called Welcome to Rocky County, so...here is the first episode

*Taps mic*

Testing, 1, 2, 3. Test. Hey, is this even working?

*Clears throat*

Testing, testing. Um, excuse me microphone?

*Brief pause*

Ah, here we go. Hey guys, my name is Skyler Dylans and I'm the new radio host here in Rocky County, since, as you may or may not know, station management has casted our previous host, Mason Barges, into that mysterious vortex near the front entrance to the Sam's Club parking lot.

It is my pleasure to inform all of you that the Rising Sun Steakhouse, owned by Richard Corey, you know, the ominously tall man who only ever wears gym clothes and lives in the blue house on that corner? Yeah, him. His steakhouse is celebrating it's GRAND OPENING today! Of course, majority of you weren't invited, and the guest list is limited to only immediate family members and close family friends, but I think we should all just take a moment to give Richard a round of applause for such an accomplishment. Come on Rocky County, let's all celebrate this momentous occasion with Richard!

*Sounds of awkward but genuine clapping into the mic for an uncomfortable amount of time*

You know, Rocky County? I used to know Richard when we were young. Yeah, he was dating my older sister. They had quite a nasty break up, though. So, Richard, if you are listening to this: Salina doesn't miss you. She really doesn't. You were an absolute piece of [censored] and you can go [censored] yourself. [censored] you, Richard.

In other news, guys, a mysterious but rather alarming secret government agency who's name is not to be disclosed has ordered that everyone in Rocky County be in their houses for a community wide lockdown. The cause of this lockdown has not been disclosed. All of us are to be in our houses, and if not our houses then the closes secure building, and lock the doors. Close the windows tight, and do not look through the curtains. You are not to leave your respective lockdown locations until you have permission from the mysterious yet alarming secret government agency who's name is not to be disclosed. So stay in your houses, or workplaces, or wherever you are, and stay safe, Rocky County! We don't want to repeat that incident with the turtles releasing formaldehyde, now do we? I didn't think so. Now get inside before the mysterious yet alarming secret government agency sees you outside and decides to eliminate you. Now that that announcement is over, let's have a word from our sponsors.

*Static noise*

*Crashing noises*

*Sirens wailing*

*Heavy breathing into the mic*

*A deep voice begins mumbling into the microphone*

[Same voice] Kool Aid. Drink it. It is good for you.

*Microphone drops to the ground*

*High pitched feedback noises*

*Shuffling*

[Skyler back on the mic] Well, that was a fun commercial. You know, it's one of my favorite Kool Aid commercials. Always makes me feel like they really care about their customers. Ah, how I love Kool Aid.

Anyways, listeners, how about we take a look at today's traffic?

Hmm...let's see. It's empty. There are zero cars in the road. That's probably because everyone is locked inside. Nevertheless, the traffic is amazing. I wish the traffic was like that on my way to work today.

Oh - guys, my intern Jamie is handing me a notice that a spokesperson on behalf of the mysterious yet alarming secret government agency who's name is not to be disclosed has made an announcement at City Hall. He is saying...oh! Listeners, it seems that the mysterious yet alarming secret government agency who's name is not to be disclosed is reporting that while they will not reveal the reason for our lockdown, they are willing to tell us that it is extremely dangerous to be outside right now, and death is a very real possibility. The mysterious yet alarming secret government agency who's name is not to be disclosed would like to thank you for your cooperation, and as a sign of their gratitude they will be leaving a single, unwrapped twix bar on everyone's doorstep.

Please remember, you are not to retrieve this twix bar until the lockwood is over, as that would mean exiting your house, and that is absolutely not allowed.

I wish they would just tell us what the reason for all of this. Maybe then I could use it as inspiration in my art. Oh, listeners, fun fact about me! I love to draw. Art is my passion, and I am much better at it than Alice. Of course, most of you don't actually know Alice, but she knows who she is. Alice knows, now don't you, Alice?

*Phone buzzes in background*

*Brief pause*

Well, well, well, listeners. It seems that Alice does know. She just send me a text message reading "you suck". Now Alice, that is very rude of you. I do not suck. Don't be a bully, Alice.

Update on the lockdown situation: the twix bars have been distributed. You didn't notice, since the mysterious yet alarming secret government agency who's name is not to be disclosed did not actually physically deliver your twix bars. They simply appeared. Remember, listeners, you are not to collect your sweet treats just yet. You must remain indoors. Your safety is our top priority here in Rocky County, and it would be in your best interest to cooperate with our wishes.

Let's see...it seems I still have some time left on air, so let's go over the community calendar.

On monday, there are hot yoga classes at 8:30 am sharp in in the dance studio of the community recreation center. On tuesday, the Oshiro family has rented out the party room at Adrian's Pizza House for - aww...it's Anisa's birthday! Anisa Oshiro is turning nine years old on tuesday, and they are renting out the party room to celebrate. Well, happy early birthday, Anisa! Wednesday, oh this is a fun one, guys this wednesday is the semi annual fund raiser for the Rocky County varsity football team, the Rocky County Stone Golems! Are you guys going? I'm going. I love the popcorn. And let's see...on thursday we have, oh? What is this?

Listeners, my intern Jamie is handing a report from the mysterious yet alarming secret government agency who's name is not to be disclosed that the lockdown is over! Yes listeners, you heard that right! The lockdown is over. Now, you may exit your homes to retrieve your twix bars! Well, Rocky County, I am going to bring this radio show to a clownse now, as you are not the only ones with a special treat waiting for them on their doorstep! Oh, how I love twix. Well, listeners, I hope you enjoyed my first time hosting the nightly radio show, and I hope I did a good job living up to poor Mason's legacy. Stay tuned next for our new game show called Guess Who where contestants try to guess who the celebrity guest is based only on the sound of their screams. Good night, Rocky County. Good night.

Link: https://my.w.tt/hAzKW3xA9bb

[humanwritesviolations]

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to head into the vault, to dig up some shit from years in the past.

Lemme just grab my shovel and...just a little...no no I got it it's fine...man, this is heavy with opinions, I bet it's a beaut!

...hmm, ranting about white folks. Well, whatever sticks to the wall, I guess. Roll 'em.

Representation

Dated: 3 years ago

Source: Dropbox

As a white man, I'm tired of listening to white men's stories.

Every time I watch TV or a movie, I'm subjected to and bombarded with story after story of Rich White Man, Scrappy White Man, Underdog White Man, Clever White Man, Brilliant White Man, Genius Scientist White Man, Unruly Doctor White Man, Tough Cop White Man, Strong Capable White Man.

White man, white man, white man, white man, white man.

If I wanted to hear a story about a white man, I would talk to most of the people I interact with at work, or in my social group, or on the internet, or literally anywhere in my life. I have four brothers and dozens of cousins, a bunch of friends and a lot of coworkers. The sum total percentage of white men in my life is probably around 80.

So why do I also need Christian Bale's Batman, Robert Downey Jr's Iron Man, Finn Jones's Iron Fist, Benedict Cumberbatch's Dr. Strange and Sherlock, Hugh Laurie's House M.D., Mark Hamill's Luke Skywalker, Harrison Ford's Indiana Jones, Henry Cavill as Superman, Andrew Garfield and Toby Maguire as Spider-Man and about a thousand others I could name? Yes, I get that most of these characters are iconic and timeless and are being brought to life on the big screen, some for the first time and others for the fiftieth, but why are these stories so interesting that they need to be told and retold? What makes these characters so compelling while others are left to the side?

The Avengers are full of almost as many white men as Congress. Where is my Black Widow movie? When do we get to explore Falcon's story? Is Nick Fury (thank you to Avengers Ultimate, by the way, for going a different route with him in the first place) ever going to have some light shine on his background?

And don't get me started on "people don't want non-white male superheroes." Jessica Jones was heavily lauded by critics and views alike, and sits at 93%/90% on Rotten Tomatoes for critic/viewer response, respectively. When Luke Cage was released, it broke Netflix. BROKE. NETFLIX. It's at 96% Fresh.

And what about non-superhero stories? Well, Luther is 90% Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, and Idris Elba is about 150% Fresh in real life.

Even if you say that the protagonist doesn't matter, that it's the writers or the producers or the actors that make it good and not whether the star is white or black or male or female, I would agree with you - and say that if it doesn't matter, stop stacking the deck with white guys. Nick Fury was a J. Jonah Jameson lookalike in the original comics, minus the Hitler-stache, and now he's Samuel L. Jackson. You don't get cooler than that, and we're talking about a guy whose actual name is FURY. To be fair, who better to play him?

But if it doesn't matter in one direction, it doesn't matter in every direction - get us some representation.

"Sure," you might say, "but what about video games?"

Alright, let's compare apples to apples. Let's take a game that was well regarded and compare it to its sequel - I'm talking, of course, about Watch Dogs. Mainly because it's a good example, but also because I've played both of them.

Watch Dogs, starring the absolutely wooden Aiden Pearce doing his best impersonation of Christian Bale's Batman minus the charisma, clocks in at 80% on Metacritic. That's a pretty good score - I've paid full AAA price for games that rated lower than that. Its sequel stars Marcus Halloway, a young black hacker aspiring to follow in similar footsteps as our aforementioned hacker vigilante, who starts off his story by exhibiting personality traits such as humor, emotion and the ability to talk to other people without outward brooding. I've read a lot of user reviews that claim tokenism, calling out the game as a "cuck-liberal fantasy" that "drinks the Kool-Aid" to "wash down the blue pill" and other such terms intended to write off a thing as being too inclusive.

It scored 82%.

Now, you could make the argument that every aspect of the game was improved, and that you don't care about the characters or their backgrounds/races/nationalities. You could argue that it's a better game because of the gadgets, or the missions, or the story, or the UI or anything else. You'd have a good point - but you would be missing mine.

I'm not saying a black protagonist made for a better game. I'm saying that a game with a black protagonist WAS a better game. I'm saying that representation does not automatically turn off the audience. I'm saying that you can make a thing starring a not-white/male character and have it work.

But yes, I'm also saying that Marcus Halloway is a three-dimensional character while Aiden Pearce is a lifeless stawman. "Brooding white guy" is not cool anymore. It's boring. It's samey. I didn't care about Aiden, I didn't care about his strained relationship with his sister, I didn't care about his guilt over his niece.

I cared more about the drunken did-they-didn't-they one-night stand Marcus had prior to the opening credits of the sequel than I did about Adrian's entire story in the original.

I don't need another white guy hero. I don't want to see the trials of a rich white guy, or a scrappy white guy. Show me the struggles of a Chinese man. Show me how a black woman deals with life in her neighborhood. Show me what it's like to live a day in the life of a Mexican teenager. What's going on with the woman in Sub-Saharan Africa whose cousin was just arrested for a crime they didn't commit? How does a slice of Syrian life look in 1987? Afghanistan in 1998? Egypt in the 1960's? Zimbabwe at the turn of the century? Give me something interesting. Give me something original. Give me something new.

Give me something I haven't seen before.

And maybe give someone else a hero for a change.

[heartedlystyled]

Abu's friend asked Abu to ask me if i would be comfortable to wear Hindu with a Burka.

I'm not huge on burkas because i get the got breath back and im already always hot anyways.

But his friend, Abu said that he found interesting that Hindu is a combination of my usual need for bling combined with Islam dress.

I said i would look for an appropriate outfit in Hindu wear to see if i would he comfortable in Hindu wear...

Its the land of the free, I can wear what i want...

Then we can across the girl on the left and he said "you already kind of dress that way anyways and your daughter, too!"

And i do... In NYC we had friends that were India Hindu, Americans, US military and we played with their kids... And i remember the grandma always seemed to open the door and she always wore the red dot on her forehead. She would stab it to make it upraised with a little needle and she would re tattoo it like every week or So...

It looked like a felt dot glued securely to her forehead.

And she often wore pink and green with gold sequin trim And she was always sewing.

So somehow as an adult, i began dressing my infant daughter that way as i always wore pants or ankle length dresses/skirts... Younger i would wear above the knee with panty hose... But longer meant more freedom like no pantyhose or having to shave above the mid calf... Just in case...

With my infant i would put a cute dress on her with jeans because she would get cold... Cause she couldn't keep socks on and the jeans would cover her feet...

Then as she got older wanting her comfortable to play like a boy but in a dress had me to put leggings on her...

Then for me cause i got excessively fat, I didn't feel comfortable in a shorter dress or skirt... So i also wear pants.

But I do wear spaghetti straps or strapless... Because i like it. It still covers my books so..

And I can understand going to the movies with Abu and his single friend and his friend asking me to wear a bit more than normal...

Its not against me at all.., its about respecting his friend Abu... Like he isn't all trying to be looking at me because hes just sitting and zoning into space... Or because he is looking at me and talking...

Like to go on double dates or in a group and the girls have to wear a certain way... I don't mind to change it up a little so they feel more comfortable... Im not afraid of being shunned.. Abu will ditch them in the parking lot.

Its about supporting a culture, friendship and family.

So if i wear a zebra print burka with pink highlights... Its not the same as Islam dress.. Yet... I'm still making an effort to appease a religious belief that i don't necessarily agree with...

That said I'm not into a burka... But something similar that's sheerer so i sont get too hot... Something similar to what some Hindu wear for special ceremonies.

Growing up in a melting pot of Earth... In NYC we spent A lot of nights sleeping in the Hindu's living room floor in piles of pillows and blankets and pizza. Chips and dip and soda, veggie plate me and gramma shared and the boys had to eat one of...

And we would watch 1 American movie like Ghost Busters or whatever was new and all the Hindu/India movies we wanted. A

Often times they weren't subtitled or in English. But we would watch and the gramma or the dad (they didn't have a nom either) would explain what was happening... A lot of times the boys would go out with my brothers and i would stay inside with the gramma and watch movies and ask her what they said, why their faces changed

Because the boys would understand the scene and they would make part of the movie themselves, like the TV extended to the living room floor and they would pantomime and act out and joke around about what they would do if they were there in the movie scene.

Usually I just watched... And handed supplies... The back drop wall flower watching the people I loved changing the movie scene they would want to have included in the movie each time we watched it...

I loved it

But i also wanted to know what we didn't see. What we missed by living. I wanted to see what was on the other side of the screen that wasn't paid attention to on those fun nights.

Gramma had difficulty with English and expression and sometimes she got embarrassed if it was a romantic scene... So i would go to the TV and point to the people and tell her what i thought they were doing in each scene.

So essentially while my own mother had been killed in front of me and all i could remember of her existence was blood splashing on the brown living room curtains...

This kind Hindu old lady without a daughter in law of her own that died in childbirth, delivering at home and only had grandsons... Taught me about life, relationships, life events, life expectations and expectancy.

I would skip school a lot to go hang out with her... Just not even go. She would open the door to let the boys out and see me and ask "school?" And i would shake my head no "not today"

Eventually my dad asked me why i hadn't been and told them i had to go to school... I would just sit outside her door all day until she went to laundry after lunch and thn i would follow her around the laundry mat downstairs in our apartment building.

So then she got to,walking us all to school... But she said it took too long,to,return home So she would ride her bike in the afternoon, tie it up to the bike rack and then walk us home... In the morning she would walk us to school and she would ride her bike home.

In the 4th grade my class had a window she would pass by to go to the bike rack and i would stand up and wait to see her go by.

She changed. She became leaner and softer and happier. She would let her hair down when she rode by on her bike. Literally letting it flow down behind her, for like miles... Then she would pin it right back up in a Chinese pin she called it.

She taught me about life. About living. And about surviving when even you yourself have no reason for continuing.

And although I was breaking the rules and she knew... She wouldn't let me in the house as she promised but if i helped her fold the laundry as she directed and helped her to twke them from rhe cart and hand the baskets to her frim the doorway she would tell me "you help me, i help you. Here is food" and she would give me lunch and a drink. And she would sometimes sit in the hallway floor with me and talk to me about the movie we watched AFTER school was let over and the boys were home. As my dad had said i could.

To me she wasn't an old lady with a red dot and Hindu clothing.

She was my very dear friend. Very close to my heart. To me, She had no age. She was as young as me, sometimes even younger but smarter. She told me all kinds of stories about her life in India, her son's life... All her children, her husband.

For me i was always in awe, mouth dropped at her tales, they were so beautiful and made her face change dramatically with her huge smiles or her eyes turning round and filling with tears...

Remember how i wrote she had a red dot that looked like felt glued down?

It was

That's exactly what it was.

But one summer it kept falling off. The summer after 3rd grade. The boys would be loud so she would say let's to go outside in the hall and talk.

And i had already caused a huge thing at school, predicting my friend Rose's death and having PTSD, having my 3rd grade teacher arrested as she was from China and would hit us with rulers and make us kneel in rice and peas (she killed herself in prison, she had a 2 year sentence) and so me hanging out with a Hindu lady... It was another story, another event for my file.

I remember a rather large black man would sit around the corner and listen. But she would say "he is spy, i cannot continue talking. It is not Chinese. It is not bad. I di nit want to go in But i do not feel comfortable. You tell me now about you"

"No way! I hate this shit!" So i confronted him. Over and over. Until finally she giggled and told me "invite him to conversate. Tell him sit in floor, like man But be handsome. But not too sexy no no no. He probably married anyway and I'm too old. But please hurry. I'm i get nervous"

"Oh please! Don't tell me! You're too old! You already have kids! You can't date!" I said veey loudly as i walked to the corner "up get -- HEY GET BACK HERE!!! SHE WANTS YOU TO SIT AND CONVERSATE!! don't be a dummy come on" i caught him nearmy running to,the staircase.

"Do you know how old i am? I'm nearly 40! You can't talk to me like that!"

"I can. I just did. Now please sit. Would you like something to drink? I can get you some kool-aid"

"What's she drinking?"

"Its gin"

"I would like some, too"

"What's gin?"

"Just go"

Finally i found what i knew gin was and i handed him a deck of cards.

I learned her tricks... When she's annoyed or uncomfortable or suspicious, she flirts. She acts like he's all over her and she's all flat drunk out... Y'all have seen me do them. The unlucky fall for them.

But he didn't and she was drinking water.

And he told her my story. The stories i hid. The stories i wish never happened. The stories i forbid to be spoken around me.

And i tuned my back to,them so they could not see me,cry or push my migraines away. And it continued for days. And she ran out of tissues and i had to use toilet paper for my nose.

Then her red dot, the eye of the God ran began to fall off her face, everyday. She got new glue. Stronger glue. And it will still fall.

So shr asked him "what is this? Why this fall?"

He said "if you ask me, She loves you and now you know you know what love is and you don't need that to protect you anymore"

"It is not to protect but to see"

"To look for love that i know about you Hindu. That is all you speak To her about. Its love. That i do know and now you know her pain and how much she needs you. You understand --- is that all you do us cry?"

"She speaks"

"You know what i want you to do is get that tattooed but in blue. Next time I come to see you, I'll bring a book i have been studying and i will show you, its perfectly acceptable to get a tattoo of it on your face,but an any color. Because you know why you identify eith her -- i mean why you are both friends with each other, is because you are both sad"

"She sad. I'm sad. So now I'm friends? With her, a small child? I am odd duck"

"Now now don't you smile, Sabrina don't you laugh at the old lady!"

"Shes funny! She's not ducking she's brave! And she's small not odd and she's sweet and even,you like her! You tell her to,get tattoo! You're strange if at all!" I blurted out... The first time I talked in weeks, it felt... In reality only about 5 days.

And so long conversations short... She used a blue pen to draw a star... As he said she was my star, my human North star, to help me find the light in life and she had came to me when my life was most darkest And i was extremely suicidal and had been caught trying to drown myself like umpteen times... Cause i wanted to die outside because it felt better than dying inside all stuffy and around people like Denise. And i wanted to drown in the river but someone always saw me. 8 years old and all... I had my desires in how to die. I wasn't stupid or mindless.

He said she had been given red as her felt dot, from a priest, because she had felt love. Still knew love, still wanted love and Still believed in it and Still looked for it.

But he said that sometimes the dot could change. It could change shapes, sizes and colors. And he said if her brain leaked out, it didn't leak love, it leaked sadness. So thus her permanent eye of ra should be blue. A light color blue not too dark because she allowed light and happiness to shine thru the tears of her world.

And that was what she had taught me... Once I learned the videos then I would interact with the TV... And the boys would watch and then we would all play along with what was on the either side of the screen and i taught them what i had learned from Granny Hindu.

She would watch us and cry. The dad would watch in shock and awe as his sons were finally being taught their native tounge and important parts of the movie and ceremonies. Sometimes he would cry.

Eventually he began wearing his Hindu traditional wear and they would get up and dance the traditional Hindu dance and teach us while we the the pillows and blankets up on the couch. And we would laugh

Of course my back would hurt easily and the boys, because of the dad, all eventually would pick me up and dance with me like i was a doll, then supporting my small amount of bony weight with their arms.

And the dad would do the granny..,her feet dangling at his knees would make me,laugh so heartily!!

The boys wouldn't pick me up so high... Mostly I would lean on their shoulders or elbows...

And so granny settled on blood sweat and tears as she realized it wasn't happiness she knew best but sadness.

And she got a light blue tear in the middle of her forehead, tattooed. And she would wear a jewel over it, shaped like a tear, as beautiful as ever. But sometimes she wore a larger than in the past, red felt circle over it... "I looked for love and i found it and it hid all my tears"

So of course I would dress myself and child subconsciously in Hindu like garb. And of course I would wear it when out with people of Islamic culture.

The tattoo shop which had done her light blue tear, eye of Earth had also shown hwr how to hand poke tattoos as is conventional in her home country of India. Although she had her ra in a professional tattoo gun.

The government spy man had arranged it for her. He also came to our weekend slumber parties, some times falling asleep after a long hard work day on the couch like a child and we would give him a blanket we ha from out massive pile and cover him. I would say "heres you a blankey" and usually he would take the corner with his massive black hand or sometimes just sigh, inhale nd exhale deeply. Usually me and the boys took turns to cover him.

Little children covering an over 6 foot tall almost 40 year old man.... Ages from 5 to 10...

Because that is what love is.

Sometimes he would start breakfast... After the first dozen times escaping in the night after catching up with his zzz's and we told,him if he was gonna,crash the slumber party with his big body probably breaking the couch with all his long bones and muscles then he needed to crash all the way and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Cause that was the best and breakfast in bed... Or the pile of blankets an sheets nd pillows like a nest for baby birds as we called it. That was the best part. After waking up woth friends we loved and understood when we felt most misunderstood in the world. Them being Hindu with a gramma with a red dot the tattoo in the middle of her forehead totally misunderstood was she a witch? Crazy? How old was she? 40? 100? And then us, watching our mother murdered, barely being able to remember her or just being able to,watch the blood spray md wonder and,cry where was our lovely mother? And the puking. The days and night of puking and puking from fear, disgust, worry and sadness. And still death seemed to follow us everywhere no matter how we predicted it or didn't or wanted it or didn't. Cared or didn't. Prayed or didn't. It was just there. Always there.

And so he would stay... Did we find him in granny bed above the covers cuddling fully clothed once or twice? Yea. And we decided it was better than Saturday morning cartoons and so we all silently munched cereal and watched them, sitting in her bedroom floor doorway... Until we feared they were dead and then I would whisper hey and he would jump awake from laying on her shoulder or sometimes boob/rib or gramma Hindu would slowly open her eyes and be in her little dreamlike state and the first few times was innocent "hey there's a man in your bed. That isn't s pillow laying on you" we would whisper

But there was that one time... That one time that she fully seduced him like the prowling cougar she is and it was a whole different Saturday morning when she clutched the blanket to,her chest and said "YOU KIDS GET OUT!!"

And I not understanding cried at her "Why are you acting Chinese!?!?! I'm not getting out until you explain!!!"

So i had to be explained that he was in his boxers and had been under the covers and they didn't want all the kids to see their privacy

And i said "Fine! I'll get out! But that's gross!!!"

Because at 8 thats what i believed.

"And you should have made breakfast or i wouldn't had known!!" And i spun on my heel and threw my hair in his face.

And Alex asked me "what's going on? I mean with them?"

"I can't talk about it" heavy slumped shoulders, neck aching "let's just watch TV that's better" he bugged on and on until i covered my head to avoid him and fall back asleep

But when i woke he asked again and i told him "they had sex"

And he called me a liar and herded all the boys to go ask.

And then they called me back to,the room so we could get an explanation

And I said "i don't want to hear all this shit. I know the birds and the bees. In and out it goes"

But he tried to talk to us about love...

But Alex threw up..

Because our mother's murderer whom used a chainsaw to her neck while we were all assembled to watch... Then said that exact same thing and had added "want to watch" as he raped our mom's nearly decapitated body.

He was right. Sadness would always exist because of love.

Well us kids didn't care about two consenting adults with their heads fully attached.. Unfortunately her son did and he was really an ass hole. Only caring about himself and his feelings, then put in for a transfer to move across country to get his 60 year old cougar momma away from a early 40 year old kitten...

Destroying his son's lives in the process... And ours... And even his own happiness

Instead of allowing his mother freedom to love.

But before all this the young thug kitten only looking for one thing So said the father, an alley cat, he was allowed gramma Hindu to hand poke a tattoo on his right toe. An S. With an astrick just tucked inside the bottom tail.

"Samaria"

That was Grandma Hindus name.

She gave herself the one i drew above... An S for Sabrina for helping her find Samaria again And of course the S for herself as well.. And two stars... One for the one we could see in her in the bottom and the other to honor the stars she could see... And she told me one for me and one for her for our friendship. And the F next to Because they were so most important to her... The F did get bigger over time and eventually became the same,size as the S as her family evolved and changed...

I suppose the story is true. She handpoked white in the "standing leg" of the F to represent the Father, her son of the family in anger because of the move.

She could have stabbed him to death. I would not had blamed her.

[taylorscottbarnett]

I'll remind you the Republican Party is a cult and more insane hard-right federal judges, far outside the judicial mainstream are at risk for lifetime appointments for federal courts if Trump isn't soundly destroyed in 2020.

McConnell has steadily churned out one nominee after another by one of the most demonstrably unqualified presidents in US history who's entire judicial list has been hand picked by ultra conservative groups.

I don't give a damn if George W. Bush puts on a fake mustache and claims to be his own long lost twin brother and runs on the Democratic ticket, I'll hand him my vote over a deranged lunatic like Donald Trump.

Donald Trump must be stopped if the legitimacy of the Oval Office and the Federal Court system is to survive.

I don't care if your favorite Democrat doesn't win the primary. I don't care if you think "both parties are the same" -- a statement that is mentally lazy, demonstrably false, and reeks of spoiled brat syndrome. I don't care if you believe some pathological bullshit about the primaries being "rigged".

When Bernie Sanders loses the Democratic Nomination (again), and when he loses the popular vote in the primary (again), because not enough people like him compared to what alternatives are available, vote for whatever Democrat actually wins what's going to be a hard fought and well deserved victory in this primary.

Because anyone of them is better than Donald Trump. This isn't a partisan issue. This isn't an ideological issue. This isn't a "sell out" thing.

Donald Trump and the precedents he has set are a danger to every ideal America was founded on, an insult to every founding father, and a round house kick to the groin to every Republican president before him.

His hijacking and cult-transformation of a political party I might not always agreed with, but at least respected as of logically sound, has to end. The Trumpublicans must burn, and a rational and reasonable center-right Republican party must rise up from it's ashes.

And hey, rational and reasonable Conservatives, actual Republicans that aren't downing the kool-aid so fast they think it's holy water, evangelicals that actually believe in Jesus rather than be against everything LGBT+, Republican Christians, atheists, free-market thinkers, evolution rejectors, there is a home for you in the Democratic Party.

More than anything 2018's election of sweeping moderate Democrats focused on kitchen-table, pocket-book issues, should show you that you have a place in this Party.

Look, I'm progressive AF, but I respect a need to temper Liberal zeal at times and seek to build and maintain structure and tried methods. I respect your suspicion at times Conservatives of Liberal ideals. We can work through this people. We can reach rational compromises to our problems.

There is a logical, conservative, argument for tighter gun laws. There are ways Conservatives and Liberals could come together to at least do something -- expanding funding and access to America's piss-poor healthcare system.

Look yes some regulations might be overreach, and we can come to rational compromises while remembering the mistakes of our past cleaver-jobs on all regulations. (Like the 2008 financial crisis). Free Markets do work, but they are man-made and thus imperfect, and DO require some reasonable federal and state oversight at times.

Hey, tax reform, great, look there IS a conservative and liberal argument for rational, reasonable, tax reform people.

We can expand progressive policies via tax reform. We can strengthen and expand tax credits for college costs. We can expand tax saving credits for college savings -- lowering taxes for Americans as well as expanding money available to families for college costs. We can make changes to retirement savings so we can shore up Social Security and Medicare, slow government spending in those areas, and allow taxpayers and corporations a tax break for doing the responsible thing and saving money in retirement accounts.

You are going to have to admit though that we may be able to use a variety and maybe multiple methods simultaneously for achieving our policy positions.

You will have to admit that our ideas will most likely need tweaking along the way. Few things are perfect, especially large changes in established systems, the first go around. You can't just unite your own in opposition to the other side. That's what led us to this insanity in the first place.

Finally you will have to consider that maybe, just maybe bad decisions will be made at times by your own side, and that hindsight is always 20/20, but in the moment, what seemed like the best decision was made with the best intentions.

You will have to take decisions made you disagree with by your own party in stride, and in historical context. Like sure, the bank bailouts of the financial crisis were bad. However at the cluster fuck of a time, we teetered on the edge of an unknown abyss. We had limited time and limited options, and did the best we could with what we had.

Yes of course the Iraq War was a mistake and Democrats did vote for it -- again, in context to the time, and the massive propaganda spewn about Iraq/9/11, bio weapons, exc, and an extremely scared population, it's perfectly rational for, oh, a Senator, lets call them, Cillian Hinlton to vote for a war the very people she represented in the Senate, lets call the state they hailed from Yew Nork --still traumatized after a the largest terrorist attack on US soil in their own state--overwhelmingly supported Cillian voting the way she did.

Calling everyone of your own that dares disagree with you even the slightest a traitor or sell out, or corporate stooge, and other bullshit is what got us in this mess.

The Age of Trump must end, and an age of Reason must take it's place.

I'll end with a handful of quotes from and about my favorite founding father related to this post, a plea for not demonizing moderation:

"I never expect to see a perfect work from imperfect man. The result of the deliberations of all collective bodies must necessarily be a compound, as well of the errors and prejudices, as of the good sense and wisdom, of the individuals of whom they are composed." -- Alexander Hamilton

"If it be asked, What is the most sacred duty and the greatest source of our security in a Republic? The answer would be, An inviolable respect for the Constitution and Laws — the first growing out of the last... A sacred respect for the constitutional law is the vital principle, the sustaining energy of a free government." -- Alexander Hamilton

"We are now forming a republican government. Real liberty is neither found in despotism or the extremes of democracy, but in moderate governments." -- Alexander Hamilton

"Why has government been instituted at all? Because the passions of men will not conform to the dictates of reason and justice, without constraint." Federalist No. 15

"Jefferson was not entirely wrong to fear Hamilton's vision for the country, for we have always been in a constant balancing act between self-interest and community, market and democracy, the concentration of wealth and power and the opening up of opportunity. "

Barack Obama, in "The Audacity of Hope", p. 193

[queennicoleinboots]

Colonel America's Funeral - Secret American Society of Sexually-Frustrated Goats

A bunch of goats, bears, dogs, cats, Kool-Aid men, murlocs, Oompa loompas, ducks, geese, and a few humans were making their respective noises. We were honoring the bullshit life Colonel America led.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing led a song for the fallen 10-foot superhuman:

We honor thee

Colonel America

Everyone sang, "Colonel America!!!!!"

"For America!!!!!!" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing sang.

Everyone sang, "For America!!!!!"

At the end of the song, a gray bear with brown eyes in a power wheelchair burst through the door.

"Excuse me. Is this the meeting hall of the Secret American Society of Sexually-Frustrated Goats?" he asked in a Southern voice.

"Yes! And we are trying to conduct a funeral in honor of a fallen member!" Peter Parker yelled. He then smiled a huge grin. "Come on in and join us! We need a new member anyway. It will be fun. We're all sexually-frustrated."

The gray bear wheeled in the room.

"Who are you?" Peter asked.

"Mac! Hey man! You joined us!" I shouted.

"Mac joins usssssss! We welcome thee! God has sent a great replacement for Colonel America! We shall call thee Colonel Mac!" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing sang.

(A/N: After this story had happened back in February 2020 before Covid-19 was popular, Mac, also known as Colonel Mac told me a short back story of how Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing and he had a fight that almost killed each other 15 years ago. They became civil with each other once they both realized that they were just sexually frustrated and needed to assert their alpha bear presence because reasons.)

"Colonel Mac!!!!" Everyone sang.

"I don't know what to say," Colonel Mac spoke with a hearty bear laugh.

Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing, Joebear, Albear, and Fredbear growled in his honor.

Colonel Mac growled back and hugged everyone. He laughed and felt honored.

"This is so emotional," Roberta said as she cried on the other side of the screen. Her daughter and new grandchild were there with her and hugging her.

We bleated to honor this moment.

"But seriously, getting back to the funeral, Colonel America would have loved to honor and induct a new member, especially another Colonel. Colonel Mac, please come sign the appropriate documents!" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing spoke.

Colonel Mac wheeled up the ramp to the stage and signed the documents.

Everyone made his or her respective animal noises.

"Wow. This is legitimate! A real secret membership! Of sexual frustration no doubt!" Colonel Mac said with a big bear smile as he signed and read the documents. He added a laugh for effect.

Joebear, Albear, Fredbear, and Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing growled with respect.

The rest of us made our animal noises before the door burst open. A goat with soft brown curls, brown eyes, and a white office shirt came through the door. "Excuse me? Is this the meeting for the Secret American Society of Sexually-Frustrated Goats?" he asked before he bleated.

"Yes. You're the second one today! Come in!" Peter said with an attitude before he bleated.

All the goats bleated.

"Thank you. I heard about Colonel America's death. Sorry to hear," the goat with the white office shirt said.

"And who are you?" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing asked.

"I'm Lorin. I'm from the Los Angeles chapter of the Sexually-Frustrated Goats. I am here for the Call of Duty convention. I'm IT. I should be asking YOU who you are," he said.

"Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing. I was Colonel America's top mechanic!" he announced.

Murphee the Ace of Munching barked three times.

"Murphayy!!!" I yelled.

"Murphayy!!!" everyone else yelled.

"Colonel America was an asshole to me!" Peter yelled.

There was silence. A few goats coughed and bleated. One even farted in the background.

"But I am still holding this god damn funeral for him. I'm a nice goat!" Peter shouted with a bleat.

Everyone bleated. Colonel Mac bleated well. He was a natural.

"How did you know how to bleat?" Bruce the Ace of Brake-fixing asked.

"My talent is sound intimation," Colonel Mac said.

"Holy Shit! So you're Colonel Mac the Ace of Sound Imitation?!" I asked.

"Yes, but please don't make me sign these papers with my new title," Colonel Mac answered.

"No problem. Titles are a pain in the ass," I said.

"Yes! For the love of God can I just be Bruce Ace!!!!!?????" Bruce Ace asked.

"Please!" Peter shouted.

Murphee barked.

"Fuck titles!" Lindsay shouted.

"Fuck titles!" Everyone shouted.

"Fuck titles!" a Jewish Goat said as he entered the hall.

"Oh God another inductee who the fuck-?" Peter started to say.

"Jay Bird! I am Jay Bird! I am repressed and traumatized from a strict Jewish background! For the love of God may I join your organization?!" Jay Bird asked.

"Yes yes yes yes! Every fucking goat in Atlanta is at this goddamn meeting!" Peter shouted with wide eyes as he threw his hands up.

I laughed as Jay Bird came up and started signing documents. "Sexually-Frustrated Goats? Jesus what is this?!" he asked as he was spazzing out.

"Well, at first we were the Secret Society of Goats. Then we became the Secret American Goats Society. And then the Sexually-Frustrated Kool-Aid Man joined, became the leader, and now we're all sexually frustrated," I said.

"Holy Shit!" Jay Bird said with a laugh.

"Become married. Then you'll really be sexually-frustrated!" Lorin shouted.

The male goats bleated and shouted loudly in agreement. Bruce Ace's bleat was on point. Paul the Goat bleated in song.

Joebear growled. "I use my right paw while my wife cleans houses and shit," he spoke as he raised his right paw.

Bruce Ace, Fredbear, Albear, and Colonel Mac growled loudly in honor.

Murphee barked three times. Garfield meowed three times.

Male goats, ducks, and geese bleated and quacked.

"Marriage is a bad idea with the state of things! Women get everything! The courts favor women! The government takes advantage of a union that should be honored! Men get fucked every time!" Jay Bird shouted as he signed his last document.

"Fuck marriage!" Peter shouted as he cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Fuck marriage!" the males shouted loudly in the room.

Colonel America's spirit emerged from his body and said, "I'd rather listen to the dryer than my wife."

"Holy Shit! Hahahaha. Colonel America has spoken!" The Sexually-Frustrated Kool-Aid Man shouted.

"Time to go, Jewel! The dead are talking!" Mr. Williamson shouted as he escorted his wife out of there.

Yeah, definitely. Meeting adjourned.

End Credits: "Who Let the Souls Out?" by DarthSydePhineas: https://youtu.be/1hJhGlTcR4E

The characters are dancing. Every time DarthSyde Phineas sang "Who Let The Souls Out?," Murphee and Tug barked five times in rhythm to the song.