#like for instance i remember back in like 2016 i told my gay friend that i was trans and i liked guys so that made me gay

[dunmertwink]

.

[closetofanxiety]

50 Wrestling Questions: Why Not

Remember this? It’s been a while. Let’s do this again. Let’s twist again like we did last summer. Or the summer of 2017 in this case.

1. What got you into wrestling?

People ask me this all the time, and I don’t really have a good answer. I’ve liked it on and off since I was very young, and who knows why you like the stuff you like when you’re a little kid? 

2. What is your favorite wrestling promotion?

Of all time: ECW, even though I would probably think of it very differently if it were happening today. Currently: Beyond Wrestling. 

3. Favorite male wrestler of all time?

Gorgeous George, but if we’re talking about people who were alive when I was alive, Dusty Rhodes. I want to say Bruiser Brody, but in my heart I would know I was just saying that to look cool. 

4. Favorite female wrestler of all time?

Gail Kim. For the longest time, she was the only woman in a major global wrestling company who got over based on her wrestling ability. She was doing stuff in TNA that was years ahead of its time, and could adapt her style to get great matches with a variety of opponents with very different backgrounds. And she can still go, as she showed in the match against Tessa Blanchard the other night. I know it would be cooler to say Bull Nakano or Chigusa Nagayo or something, but I don’t know enough of their stuff to make that claim credible. I am who I am, a person who goes to the mall to buy shoes. 

5. Favorite current male wrestler?

Nick Gage

6. Favorite current female wrestler?

Momo Watanabe 

7. Favorite theme song?

Joey Janela’s music captures his vibe perfectly, and sounds great being blasted out of PA speakers inside a small bar or VFW hall. Of all time, probably, I don’t know, Honky Tonk Man? In an ironic way that slowly becomes sincere?

8. Least favorite theme song?

Ricochet’s WWE theme music is pretty dreadful. 

9. Favorite gimmick?

Currently: Orange Cassidy. All time: Road Warriors maybe? They were almost 100 percent gimmick, and they were the biggest tag team in the world at a great time for tag team wrestling. 

10. Least favorite gimmick?

All the racist and gay-hating gimmicks that have been used throughout the years are more or less equally horrible. If we’re talking about a terrible gimmick that was non-malignant, I’d say it was taking giant indestructible ass-kicker Mike Awesome and making him “That 70s Guy.” 

11. Best entrance (either their usual entrance or a special one, like a Wrestlemania entrance)?

Gorgeous George had the best entrance of all time, and it’s been copied ever since (Ric Flair’s entrance is basically Gorgeous George’s, scored with a different piece of classical music). The Sandman also had a great entrance. He was kind of all-entrance, now that I think of it. I also love those old shows in Japan where Brody would come out to “Immigrant Song” running through the crowd, swinging a fucking chain over his head like a lunatic. An entrance that makes you fear for your life: mission accomplished. 

12. Best Undertaker Wrestlemania match?

I am not the right person to ask for Undertaker superlatives, but the Lesnar match had a legitimately shocking conclusion that I still appreciate 

13. Most overrated?

I’m tempted to incur the wrath of the online by making a contrarian hot take selection like Ken Omega, but in reality it’s probably the Undertaker. 

14. Most underrated?

There are a million choices from before the 1980s, the Before Time of contemporary pro wrestling. Edouard Carpentier, say; he was having matches in 1970 that would not look out of place in 2019. Since the 1980s, I’d say Jerry Lynn is a very strong contender for most underrated. The popular choice would be Sid or Lex Luger, but I think they’re pretty much rated exactly as they should be. 

15. Have you ever been to an event? If so, which one?

I certainly have been to many pro wrestling events. I go to one or two a month. Like a lot of things, wrestling is pretty much always fun in person. It helps that the Northeast has a ton of good companies within easy driving distance. My favorite show of all time might be Americanrana 2016. 

16. Who has the best merch?

We’re in a weird period where people on Instagram are making better shirt designs (in insanely limited editions) than the vast majority of wrestlers or wrestling companies. I will say that Kris Wolf has yet to make an ugly or boring piece of merchandise, which is a huge complication in this day and age. 

17. Do you own any merch?

Nope! Wait, I mean, “yes, entirely too much.” Shirts, 8 x 10s, DVDs, magazines, random pieces like fancy enamel badges and a stack of Okada bucks. The one thing I’ve never gotten into is action figures, and that’s probably good for the ol’ bank balance. 

18. Best nickname?

"The American Dream” Dusty Rhodes is an all-time classic. 

19. Worst nickname?

"The Game” is a dumb nickname. “The Cerebral Assassin” is also a dumb nickname. Are assassins supposed to be stupid? I bet they’re typically very smart, although of low moral character. “Triple H” is his only good nickname, and even that sounds like the nickname of a guy who owns a car dealership out by the highway.

20. Best mic skills?

Nobody was ever better than Bobby Heenan, who had incredible range and versatility. He could do comedy and he could do menace. He could do calm and he could do spitting rage. He had an uncanny sense of timing and was quicker on his feet than almost anyone. No one really comes close at matching his astonishing depth, but Dusty Rhodes was an all-time great promo. He really made you care about wrestling matches, which is not an easy thing to do.

21. Most annoying?

I mean, it has to be Vince McMahon. 

22. Most attractive male?

Is Tanahashi too obvious a choice? Best hair in wrestling. It’s incredible and luxurious, like an untamed mountain stream. Andrade “Cien” Almas or whatever they’ve shortened his name to (”And”) is a handsome man. Killer Kross: very handsome. We live in a golden age of attractive wrestlers. Just look back at the gassed-up Zubaz mastodons of the 1980s, or the territories-era guys who all looked like they were 48 years old and had pot bellies. You almost have to try to find unattractive wrestlers. Nick Gage, for instance. But I’m sure even he has his swooning admirers. 

23. Most attractive female?

Again, what a time for attractive wrestlers. It may be shallow, but wrestling is a business that’s at least partially cosmetic. Attractive people sell tickets. I would, and have, bought a ticket to see Hana Kimura. 

24. Favorite faction?

Of all time? Probably the Barry Windham-era Four Horsemen. More recently, Team Pazuzu. 

25. Worst faction?

BULLET CLUB. No, it’s not the Bullet Club, as exhausted as they’ve become. It’s probably the nWo after early 1998 or so, when they had like 60 members and dragged down every storyline. 

26. Best ring gear?

Su Yung and Pentagon Jr. 

27. Who do you think would be the nicest in real life?

I bet Jerry Lynn is a good guy to know. People in wrestling universally praise Little Guido, which is very rare. The Young Bucks seem like they might be decent dudes. Willow Nightingale told a story on a podcast about Nick Gage excitedly playing with Solo Darling’s dog backstage, so you never know. 

28. Who would be the rudest in real life?

On the indie level, it’s probably someone who doesn’t work very much. Above the indie level, I bet some of those British guys are secretly horrible, like Jimmy Havoc. 

29. Favorite heel?

Currently it’s a tie between MJF and Alisha Edwards, two of the only people who can regularly get indie crowds to boo them. Of all time, heel Flair was hard to beat. 

30. Most hardcore?

It’s definitely either a guy in Japan or a guy in Mexico, and he’s definitely been burned by explosive charges multiple times. Onita? It’s probably Onita. Or Jun Kasai? I think Onita has probably been exploded more times than Jun Kasai. 

31. A wrestler you could beat?

At wrestling? Not a single one of them. Nicholas, the small boy who won the WWE tag team championship with Braun Strowman, would wipe the floor with me. Even the most callow bodybuilder-turned-wrestler would not break a sweat beating me senseless. But writing talking points for senior administration officials in preparation for legislative testimony? Now you’re on my turf. Not so tough now, huh, Nicholas? 

32. Best story line?

Freebirds vs. Von Erichs or Stone Cold vs. Vince. My heart says the former, my head says the latter. 

33. Biggest missed opportunity for a story line?

The WWE blowing the invasion angle after purchasing WCW is the obvious one. More recently, they blew it by not turning Reigns heel. 

34. Worst story line?

Ha, so many of them. Impossible to choose just one. At least most of the dumb embarrassing Russo ones in WCW and TNA were basically harmless, like the time Samoa Joe got kidnapped by ninjas. The Chuck and Billy wedding thing was far worse. A low point even by Vince’s impressively cretinous standards.

35. Which wrestler should turn heel?

I’d like to see a Jordynne Grace heel run in Impact. Heel Finn Balor would also be good. 

36. Which wrestler should turn face?

Samoa Joe has a good fiery babyface, “I’m tired of doing your dirty work, McMahon!” run in him. 

37. Who would be the worst to room with?

Can you imagine sharing a living space with Enzo Amore? Or the thicket of twee Disney merchandise you’d have to negotiate every day if you lived with Johnny Gargano?

38. Who would be the best to room with?

I bet Eddie Edwards would be a surprisingly thoughtful roommate, like he’d always do the dishes “because I love doing them!,” that kind of thing. I have nothing to base this suspicion on, he just seems like my old roommate, Shane, who was like that. 

39. Who would be your best friend if you were a wrestler?

I’d like to say Jushin Thunder Liger, and posit that we would go on exciting adventures, but the answer is probably something like “Comp Time” Terry Dandridge, who wrestles monthly for 2Xtreme All-Pro Wrestling Alliance out of Euphoria, Kansas and has a 9 to 5 as a hardware store manager. 

40. What would your job be in a wrestling promotion?

I’d normally make a self-effacing joke here, but I do social media training at my real job, and so many wrestlers are badly in need of help in this area. 

41. Favorite wrestling podcast/Youtube channel?

I like AIW’s “The Card is Going to Change” podcast a lot, and there’s one by the owners of RevPro that’s pretty good. It’s hard to find a well-produced wrestling podcast that talks about independent wrestling. My favorite wrestling YouTube channel is OSW Review. 

42. Favorite finisher?

BURNING HAMMER

43. Least favorite finisher?

The Bayley-to-belly suplex. HOW IS THIS A FINISHING MOVE

44. Favorite match?

Kerry Von Erich vs. Jerry Lawler at Superclash III. It was a bloody, weird, engrossing spectacle, and it was the symbolic end of the territories era. 

45. Favorite PPV?

Royal Rumble is the last PPV my casual fan friends reliably want to see, and with good reason: it’s engrossing.

46. Guilty pleasure wrestler?

Big Banter Baron Corbin, but I feel no guilt here. He rules. 

47. Favorite submission?

THE KATA HA JIME, otherwise known as the Tazmission.

48. Most entertaining to watch?

All time? Randy Savage. Currently? Io Shirai. 

49. Best spot?

Anyone spitting mist into the unsuspecting eyes of their foes

50. Who do you most respect?

I respect you, booker man.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

What are we willing to cancel people over, anyway?

Beautube continues to be the messy hellscape that it is, but the feud that went down between two major YouTubers just goes to show that nobody is above drama. Still, James Charles has a history of problematic behavior — why did it take until now for the community to cancel him? 

YouTube's beauty community was shaken on Friday when Tati Westbrook dropped a 43-minute video exposing her longtime friend and mentee James Charles. Among other reprehensible behavior, Tati also denounced his habit of allegedly sexually harassing straight men. 

The takedown followed weeks of rumors, screenshots, and snarky reaction videos from other vloggers, so it wasn't new, but it was the catalyst that has other influencers distancing themselves from the teenage makeup guru. 

If you're unfamiliar with the wild world of beauty YouTube, here's a rundown of all the people involved. 

James Charles is a 19-year-old beauty maven who went viral in 2016 for not only wearing makeup in his senior photos, but also being extra enough to bring a ring light to emphasize his highlighter. Later that year, he became the first male spokesperson for CoverGirl. Since then, he's amassed an immense social media following — at its peak, he had 15 million subscribers on YouTube. 

Charles' nearly overnight fame reached a climax usually reserved for traditional celebrities, not influencers, when he was invited to the Met Gala earlier in May. He raised eyebrows when he called the invitation "a step forward in the right direction for influencer representation in the media" in an Instagram post.

But after his rapid ascent to stardom, Charles is now crashing back down. He's been cancelled.

So I retook my senior photos & brought my ring light with me so my highlight would be poppin. I love being extra 💀 pic.twitter.com/7Qu1yu8U2P

— James Charles (@jamescharles) September 5, 2016

SEE ALSO: Men's makeup brands are discreet — and all over Instagram

Tati Westbrook is a 37-year-old makeup YouTuber who also owns Halo Beauty, a supplement company that sells gummy vitamins for strengthening hair and nails. Her direct competitor is Sugar Bear Hair, a similar company whose products have been endorsed by a variety of influencers, including the Kardashian-Jenner clan. 

Tati has been "like a mother" to James, according to James himself. She took the budding star under her wing when his career was just kicking off — and he even did her wedding makeup. 

Keeping up? Good, because this is where it gets messy. 

On April 22, James posted an endorsement for Sugar Bear Hair on his Instagram story after the company supposedly helped him with a security issue during Coachella. Without naming names, Tati said she felt "lost" and "betrayed" on her Instagram story. 

"When you do so much for people in your life and they not only don't return the favor, but they just don't even see you," Tati said in her tearful video. "I feel really used." 

James publicly apologized in similarly teary Instagram story the next day, and told his followers that he "did not think about the competition."

"She has been like a mother to me since my first days in this industry," he said in his public apology, adding that he didn't accept any money for the post and that he uses Tati's vitamin brand daily. "And has given me more love, support, resources, and advice than I could ever ask for."

Fellow makeup YouTuber Gabriel Zamora — who you might remember from the YouTube apology fiasco in summer 2018 known as Dramageddon — weighed in on the situation. In a video posted on May 4, he chided Tati for her immature reaction. 

"All these videos are being made where James is being made out to be this horrible human being and I'm just confused as to what happened," Gabriel said.

In response, Tati posted a video on Friday titled "BYE SISTER," a play on James' signature vlog intro, "Hi sisters!" The lengthy video dives into why Tati felt unappreciated by James, from his hesitation to promote her brand to his reluctance to collaborate with her. She publicly severed ties with him, concluding that it was "painful to lose someone you care about, that you thought would be in your life forever, but the chapter's closed."

Since dropping the video, Tati has been rapidly gaining followers as James loses them. Twitter users and other influencers paid attention.

drama aside, i have something to say.... ❤️https://t.co/Hn20TgNSzM❤️ pic.twitter.com/vRPFCTJIEJ

— Shane Dawson (@shanedawson) May 12, 2019

Image: Twitter Screenshot/Jefree Star

As of Monday morning, James has lost more than 2.5 million subscribers in three days, according to SocialBlade. Tati, meanwhile, gained more than 2.9 million since posting the video. To put that into perspective, as vlogger Callum Markie noted, Logan Paul gained 80,000 subscribers after filming a victim of suicide in Japan. 

But the backlash isn't just over snubbing a friend — it's over a much more concerning issue. Although the majority of the video was about her personal relationship with James, it also shed light on his toxic habit of allegedly sexually harassing straight men. 

"Oh my god, you tried to trick a straight man into thinking he's gay yet again," Tati ranted in her video, recalling a phone conversation she recently had with James. "And somehow, you're the victim." 

She continued:

Tati was alluding to just one of many instances where James toyed with straight men. The receipts channel Spill laid out several examples, including his questionable relationship with model Gage Gomez. In April, Gomez posted a video calling James out for continuing to pursue him despite repeatedly turning him down. 

"[He] pushed his emotions onto me to guilt me into trying something that I didn't want to do," the model said. 

James has also publicly hit on Shawn Mendes, leaving suggestive comments on the singer's Instagram live videos and tweets. 

He later apologized in a tweet, and said he was "sorry if he [Shawn] felt sexually harassed."

After Tati's video, others came forward. Someone who claimed to be a former classmate tweeted that James allegedly sexually assaulted her friend. Singer Zara Larsson also tweeted that James repeatedly hit on her boyfriend, despite knowing that he's straight. And in a supercut of James' vlogs, a Twitter user showed the numerous times the beauty guru admitted he enjoyed pursuing heterosexual men because "it's easier than you think."

It's about time James Charles stopped getting a pass for his repeatedly toxic behavior. But why did it take a video from Tati for the internet to finally cancel him? Twitter user @Quantum_King_ questioned why Tati protected James for years, despite public knowledge that he harassed men both in person and on social media. 

Did Tati Westbrook expose a predator or did she harbour a predator until she felt under appreciated by him?

— Brokeryn Martell 🇱🇨🇯🇲 (@Quantum_King_) May 11, 2019

If James Charles would’ve promoted tati’s vitamins, do y’all think she still would’ve made that video exposing him for being trash? Let’s discuss

— femme fatale (@eliesaaab) May 12, 2019

And others pointed out how hypocritical it was for Jeffree Star, another member of the YouTube beauty community, to speak out against James despite his own problematic past. (Star has since deleted his tweet, but there is a screenshot included above.)

seeing my mutuals dragging james charles while simultaneously supporting jeffree star and it’s interesting pic.twitter.com/TJHlxo2tkv

— 𝖙 𝖉𝖆𝖜𝖌 (@tamiamakay) May 12, 2019

Is James Charles being canceled because of his actions, or because the internet loves drama? It's been nearly a year since Dramageddon tore Beautube apart, exposing multiple YouTubers for their racist tweets. 

Somehow, James' own racist remarks weren't pulled into the whirlwind of cancellation. When he made a transphobic comment earlier in 2019 about how he wasn't "full gay" because he had been attracted to trans men, he received some backlash but got away relatively unscathed. Why is it Tati's video that's tanking his career? 

Maybe it's because the internet is willing to give a pass to its faves, until it's time to grab some popcorn and watch a feud go down. It's good that the internet is finally done with James — the face of the beauty community absolutely should not be a predator. But nobody paid attention or sought to hold him accountable until there was a friendship break up involved. 

The influencers at the center of Dramageddon have more or less recovered from 2018's Beautube culling. Gabriel Zamora continues to make videos. Nikita Dragun was just profiled in Forbes. Manny MUA is still releasing products from his makeup line, Lunar Beauty. Even Laura Lee, whose iconically terrible apology video fueled Twitter memes for weeks, seems fine according to Instagram. 

Will James Charles' cancellation last, or will the internet accept him into the fold again like it did with Jeffree Star? Despite his many controversies, Star is a multimillionaire thriving on top of a massive beauty empire.  

"A lot of most of my career over the last two years has been about me making mistakes and trying to learn and grow from them," James stated in his apology video posted Friday. "And I haven't always done the best job of that. I can admit that, but I have always tried ... I wish I could say this is the last time that I make a mistake, but it won't be." 

And as his beauty vlogger predecessors have proven, he's at least right about that. Will he stay canceled? Hopefully. Will more makeup-centered drama go down in the near future and take down more racist, transphobic predators? God, we hope so. 

WATCH: 'Avengers: Endgame' is the most tweeted-about movie ever

[sarahbearah1914]

Love and Coffee 2

Part One

Chapter Two: First Dates

Saturday January 16th, 2016

9:00 AM

 Sachiko could not remember the last time she had been this excited for a date. She and Kisame had agreed to meet at the aquarium at eleven and she had changed her outfit four times since waking up. She hummed softly to the radio while fixing her hair and Sachiko couldn’t help but think back on the last week. To her surprise she and Kisame had continued to text almost every day, and he had even asked the name of the upperclassmen that had stood her up originally. Not that Sachiko would have told him, while she was mad at Kakuzu; she wasn’t the type of person to cause drama. Thinking of Kakuzu only served to bring their last encounter to mind.

Sachiko had been walking to the dining hall Wednesday for lunch when Kakuzu Kuchisake, the very man who stood her up on Monday, began walking beside her. He grunted in an attempt to gain her full attention. Still angry, she ignored him and continued on her way.

“I apologize for not meeting you; I noticed some discrepancies with my bank account.” Kakuzu gave a brief explanation as they continued walking.

“I’m sorry to hear that! Was it a large amount?” Sachiko was shocked, she couldn’t be angry at him for trying to sort out his bank account. Kakuzu nodded.

“Yes, $3.24 was missing from my account, but it’s been straightened out. If you’d still like to treat me to that coffee, I’m free now.”

“Excuse me?” Sachiko was flabbergasted. Not only was her time worth less than five dollars, but he seriously thought she was going to take him out?

“I had asked you if you’d like to get coffee after it was made clear to me that you were attracted to me, as such, you may take me to coffee.” So her time was both worth less than five dollars, and he wasn’t attracted to her in the first place. Sachiko didn’t have much of an ego to begin with, but that just about killed whatever was there. Her phone buzzed just as tears were beginning to prickle in her eyes. Taking a quick look at the screen in order to compose herself, her heart gave a flutter. Kisame had texted her….a picture of a cupcake.

[Kisame] Bistro has good desserts today.

She and Kisame had been texting back and forth since Monday and she had never been quite so besotted. Sachiko smiled before looking back up.

“I’m sorry Kuchisake-san, but I’ve been invited on a date and cannot in good conscience go out with you.”  She began to walk away, ready to go grab one of those delicious looking cupcakes when that little gremlin of anger reared her head. Who was he to treat her like that? She turned her head and said as casually as she could, “He even paid for my coffee when you were a no show”.

 From there the week had both flown by and seemed to drag on forever. She and Kisame had texted back and forth, but hadn’t been able to meet up again before their date. Her little interaction with Kakuzu meant missing Kisame at the popular dining hall on Campus called The Bistro, but she sent her own picture of a cupcake back to him with a smiley face and the explanation that maple was her favorite. From there they exchanged pictures of their everyday lives. Sachiko sent a photo of the snowman she and her friends made in reply to his of all his homework and was all smiles when he said that they should make one together sometime.

As she contemplated her outfit of soft white jeans and flowy seafoam top the door opened.

“Wow! You must really like this guy.” Tenten announced as she came in and set her gym bag on the floor at the end of her bed. Tenten knew that Sachiko liked Kisame as he was about the only thing she talked about all week.

“Do I look okay? We agreed to meet at eleven so I need to catch the shuttle soon.” Sachiko mumbled as she fussed and began to gather her things.

“You look so good that Gai-sensei would burst into tears of youth at the sight of you”. Tenten assured her. “Lee and I are going out too, are you sure you don’t want us to drop you off?” she questioned as she watched Sachiko dance around their room. This guy better live up to all the good things Tenten had been hearing about him. Tenten asked around the gym and got nothing but glowing reviews on how great of a guy Kisame was, which was a relief when you consider the kind of world he came from. A world that Sachiko obviously didn’t know a thing about, and Tenten didn’t blame Kisame for not telling her either; she had seen firsthand what Neji went through as member of the “oh so prestigious” Hyuga family. Not to be overprotective, but Sachiko didn’t date much and was still pretty naïve when it came to guys. Tenten would never let anything happen to her. She’d rather see Sachiko with Kisame over Kakuzu any day of the week and honestly had no idea what she had seen in him in the first place.

“No, thanks though! I don’t want to mess with your guys’ plans. What do you think, this one or this one?” Sachiko questioned as she held up two bathing suits, one black and one purple but both one piece suits with skirts attached.

“The black one. It’s January, why do you need a bathing suit?” Tenten asked as she watched her roommate put the bathing suit into her bag.

“I don’t know, Kisame just told me to bring one.” Sachiko replied as she checked her bag over. “Well, I’m all set. I’ll see you later!” They hugged and Sachiko was already in the hall when Tenten poked her head out the door.

“You better text me when you get to the bus stop!”

“Yes mother!” Sachiko laughed as she opened the door to the stairs.

They lived on the third floor of the only all girls dorm on campus, close to campus security and a few minutes’ walk from the campus shuttle.  Sachiko walked past several buildings she had classes in, the library, the Starbucks she and Kisame had met in, two parking garages and a dining hall before coming to the shuttle pick up area. To the left of a bench was a small kiosk that housed the ticket machine. As a student she didn’t have to pay for her ticket but she still had to scan her ID to be able to get a pass. This was a security measure the campus had installed several years ago when several other universities were noticing a rise in campus related crimes. There was a big blue button next to the kiosk, and another on the bus shuttle stop sign that would call campus security as well. She didn’t have to take the shuttle back, but she did have to scan her ID to get back into her dorm, therefore her whereabouts could still be accounted for.  This was one of the reasons Sachiko had applied to Konoha, and the only reason her father allowed her to attend. They took security and student safety seriously. No, if General Nekozawa had his way; his child, whom was the spitting image of his late wife, would be attending school on the military base where they lived.      

Sachiko sent her promised text to Tenten and it was another ten minutes before the green and red colors of the Konoha Student Shuttle bus came into view.  She took an extra moment to confirm the stop she needed to get off on before boarding the shuttle. The closest stop to the aquarium was just outside the bay area; from there she would have to walk a few blocks to reach her destination. Twelve stops, she reminded herself as she boarded. Sachiko smiled to the driver as she handed him her ticket and began scouting for a seat on the slightly crowded bus. Weekend rides were always crowded as students who didn’t have cars had to get their weekly supplies. Sachiko felt so grateful for Lee in this instance. Gai-sensei sold Lee his old car a couple years ago and the three of them did their grocery shopping together ever since, with the stipulation that the three of them split the cost of his parking pass each year.

Sachiko made herself comfortable in a seat towards the back and listened to music while fiddling with her phone to keep occupied. She kept one headphone bud in her ear and tucked the other into her jacket out of the way. Her father drilled into her head to always be aware of her surroundings over the years, among other things. Sachiko looked out the window and wondered how this date was going to go with a gentle smile and as she did the city flew past, a labyrinth of life and concrete flowing all together in vibrant harmony.  As the stops dwindled and her heart kicked up its tempo she began typing a message.  

[Sachiko] On the shuttle, see you soon =)

It was ten thirty before Sachiko’s stop finally came into sight. Gathering her stuff, Sachiko checked to make sure she had everything and stepped off the shuttle. As she left she was sure to tell the driver that she hoped he had a great day. Stepping onto the sidewalk she was startled when she saw Kisame standing next to the bus stop sign. He grinned at her and handed her a large Starbucks cup.

“Good morning. I think this is what you ordered last time.” He greeted her. She took a sip and hummed her appreciation.

“This is so good, thank you!” Sachiko smiled up at him as they began walking to the bay. She tried to keep conversation flowing with Kisame but it was difficult when he cut through the crowd like a ship through water and she was tossed around in the tide. Seeing her struggle, Kisame wrapped his arm around her slight frame and brought her into him.

“I almost lost you there”. Kisame joked as he grinned down to her. His smile was infectious and Sachiko found herself grinning up at him, equal parts embarrassed and impressed. She could feel through their jackets that he had muscles to spare.  

“It seems like you’re my hero yet again, Kisame.” She praised him and could have sworn his cheeks colored just slightly. From there they chit chatted the rest of the way to the aquarium, Kisame told her of the exhibits that he was most excited to see and she confessed that she didn’t do too much reading on what was instore for them so as to not ruin the wonder and surprise but was impressed on what she saw on the animal rehabilitation program. This led to a rather excited discussion about animals in the wild versus captivity.

“You’re really knowledgeable, why you didn’t enroll in KU’s marine biology program?” Kisame inquired as they came to the doors of The Greater Konoha Aquarium.  

“I really love animals, and I love documentaries and everything, but, this sounds silly saying it out loud. Computers and other tech just kinda speak to me, you know? I love the challenge of figuring them out.” She admitted.

“No, I totally get it. That’s how I feel when I get in the water, it just kind of, I dunno, fits.” Kisame looked around the room, avoiding eye contact for a moment as he gathered his wits. “Stay here for a sec, okay?”  He asked. Sachiko nodded and watched him walk to the desk. Realizing that she really didn’t want to be interrupted during her date she reached for her phone to silence it. Pulling it out of her bag, Sachiko saw a text from Lee.

[Lee] IS HE BEING A GENTLEMAN?!?! ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD TIME?!?!!?!  IT IS NOT UNYOUTHFUL IF YOU NEED US TO COME GET YOU. JUS  

The message was cut off.

[Lee] This is Tenten, I have confiscated Lee’s phone so he doesn’t blow yours up. An update every once in a while would be nice. See you when you come home.

Sachiko laughed softly and replied.

[Sachiko] he’s being a perfect gentleman. He met me at the bus stop and had a latte waiting for me. I’m silencing my phone, movie night when I get home?  Tell Lee I said thank you for being such a great friend, have a great day!

She smiled as she slipped the now silenced phone into her bag.

“Everything okay?” Kisame questioned as he walked back to her.

“Yep! Just my roommate. So where shall we start?”

Thus began a fun afternoon of touring the tanks, pointing out different fish and marveling at the graceful way they moved. They took turns reading the information cards to each other as they made their way to the main tank.

“Look at that beauty. I was so excited when I found out about this guy. There aren’t many in captivity because they’re hard to take care of.” Kisame said as he gazed up at a truly enormous shark.

“That’s a whale shark!” Sachiko exclaimed in wonder.

“Yeah, we should come back later when the animals have acclimated more; there has been talk about a swimming experience in the main tank.” Kisame tore his eyes away from the shark to look down at her. “Ready for the reason for the bathing suit?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yep, I was pretty stumped when you said to bring it.” Sachiko told him as he took her hand.

“This way.” Kisame took her to the elevator and pressed the bottom button. He then covered her eyes. She was just getting used to the warmth of his hand on her face, and feeling the gentle movement of her hair from his even breaths. The elevator dinged and Kisame slowly led her out, treating her like delicate finery with his every movement. Sachiko’s senses were met with the sound of water and smell of the ocean and it was another savored moment before he uncovered her eyes and whispered in her ear. “Surprise.”    

They were in the area of aquarium that backed the water. Sachiko looked all around the room, seeing dolphins swimming in a large pool on one side of the room, a beluga whale in another pool, and another pool on the far side of the room she could not identify.

“Kisame, are we allowed to be here?” She inquired in amazement.

“I pulled some strings. C’mon, we’re going to get to feed and swim with the dolphins.” He took her hand again and led her to the locker rooms. An older man met them and greeted Kisame with a firm hand shake.

“You two go get changed and then we’ll grab the wetsuits.” He said, and then turned to Sachiko. “I’d put your hair up girlie, it is still January, it won’t do you any good walking around with wet hair.”    

Swimming with dolphins was just as fun as it sounds. The dolphins were playful, swimming around them, splashing occasionally, and were very excited when Kisame swam over to the edge of the pool and got a bucket of fish. Kisame tossed fish to the dolphins and Sachiko laughed at their antics, watching them glide through the water and do flips to put on a small show for the couple.  Once all the fish were gone the dolphins began swimming around them again, slowly pushing them together until Kisame held Sachiko in his arms. She smiled up at him and he returned it with a toothy grin of his own. She shivered, from the prolonged time in the cold water, or the warmth of Kisame’s arms around her she didn’t know.

“Ready to get out?”  He asked her as he pulled her closer and rubbed his hands up and down her arms before taking a hand and blowing on her fingertips. Sachiko nodded and he pulled her to ladder before helping her out. Kisame grabbed them both towels, going the extra step to wrap hers around her shoulders before they began the walk to the changing rooms again, his hand never leaving hers which caused the butterflies in her stomach to warm her from the inside out.  

After changing back into their clothes the two of them explored the rest of the aquarium, especially enjoying the petting pool. Sachiko giggled as the rays tickled her fingers. The feeling of their smooth bodies was unlike anything else she had ever felt. Between the petting pool and the penguins, she wasn’t really sure what her favorite part of the actual aquarium was. Of course swimming with the dolphins was her favorite part of the day so far, right before the feeling of Kisame’s hand in hers. It was a tossup really if she was being honest with herself. She mused quietly as they made their way back to the entrance of aquarium that this was the most fun she had ever had on a date.  

“Are you hungry?” Kisame inquired as he broke their comfortable silence. Sachiko’s stomach growled in answer and her cheeks turned to a rosy shade of pink. Kisame laughed and they darkened even more. “Glad I’m not the only one. I know a great pizza place around here, is that okay with you?”

“I love pizza.” She replied. And it was true; she seemed to split a pizza with Tenten every other week. Kisame just smiled and wrapped his arm around her as they walked to the door. Sachiko was surprised to see that the sky was beginning to darken. Just how long had they been in the aquarium?

They walked for about ten minutes before reaching a small mom and pop Italian place. On the way they had deciding on half meat lovers and half cheese.  They sat down with their drinks, blue Gatorade for Kisame and an orange Fanta for Sachiko, as they discussed varying topics such as family and their classes. It was interesting to know that they were both only children. Kisame was very close to his two cousins while Sachiko explained that she didn’t know her extended family very well because she had moved around a lot due to her father’s job.  The conversation continued while they ate but was paused when she giggled at the tomato sauce on Kisame’s cheek.   He retaliated by swiping his finger across the offending stain and bopping her nose with said digit.

In all, dinner was very enjoyable, their continued communication throughout the week making them more comfortable with each other to the point where there wasn’t that lull of awkward first date talk. It was almost as enjoyable as being encompassed in Kisame’s warmth as he drew her back into his side as they walked back to the shuttle station.

“It’s been such a great day, I’d hate for it to be messed up by losing you in the crowds now.” He offered his unneeded explanation.  Sachiko just shrugged.

“Plus, you’re really warm.” She said and smiled up at him while leaning closer. He was really warm and she was grateful as her jacket, while cute wasn’t the warmest thing she owned. They walked in silence after that, seemingly in a happy bubble; only for that happy bubble to pop as they got within sight of the shuttle stop to see it pulling away from the curb.

“Oh no!” Sachiko groaned. “I’ll have to catch the next one.”

“What time is it? I’ll wait for the next one with you.” Kisame pulled out his phone and cursed.

“What’s the matter?” She questioned.

“It’s just past six; that was the last shuttle. Shit. I’m sorry Sachiko; I should have kept an eye on the time. Listen, it’s dark and I’m parked right around the corner. Can I drive you back to campus?” Kisame asked her as he ran his hand into his hair. His face was contorted in clear frustration, obviously angry with himself.

“Would you? I’m sorry Kisame, I was the one who should have been keeping track of the time, but we were having so much fun!” She touched his arm to show her sincerity that she didn’t blame him for the situation they were in. He took her hand and led her to the parking garage he’d left his truck in. He walked them to a large blue truck and she just stared at it wondering how the heck she was going to get into the cab. It must have been written all over her face because Kisame laughed.

“Need a lift, shorty?” He chortled.

“I’m at a perfectly average height, it’s not my fault you’re the size of a tree.” She sassed back before sighing. “Please?”

Kisame laughed before opening the door to the passenger side and lifting her by the waist carefully into the seat. Sachiko felt the tingles rush up and down her spine at being handled so carefully by this man. He was full of contradictions and she found herself liking him even more with every moment they spent together. He was huge but made her feel delicate and cared for all day. His face wasn’t the conventional definition of handsome but he was the sweetest guy she had ever been on a date with. He was considerate and made sure she was having a good time. That’s not to say he wasn’t handsome to her though, Sachiko thought he was very handsome, she had never been much for pretty boys anyway.  

Sachiko pulled out her phone and sent a text to Tenten as Kisame rounded the front of the truck.

[Sachiko] Missed the shuttle, Kisame is dropping me off.

He got in and started up the truck and they both relished in the blast of heat that came through the dash before the Country Music Top 40 came on the radio and Sachiko smiled happily.

“I love this song!” she exclaimed as she began to hum along. What she missed was Kisame’s pleased smile as she turned to grab her seatbelt.

“It’s a good song; I’m liking his new album.” Kisame replied as he turned the radio down a few notches.  “Where would you like me to drop you off?”

“Um, the parking garage next to The Bistro, if that’s okay with you?” Sachiko offered.

“If that’s what you want. Might want to text that roommate of yours.”  And with that they were on the road back to school. Sachiko did let Tenten know where she’d be and got the confirmation that she would meet her in the garage so they could walk together. She and Lee were picking up supplies for their movie night and would be getting back about the same time anyway.

“She’s going to meet me there, she and another friend of ours are going to watch a movie and they’re getting supplies.” Sachiko said with a smile. The rest of the ride back to school was filled with a comfortable almost – silence as she would randomly catch herself hum along to the radio and Kisame would tap the steering wheel to the beat. The city was a whirl of lights as they passed by, illuminating their faces every few seconds as they made their way closer to their destination. Before they were ready, Kisame pulled into the parking garage and put the truck in park.

“Uh, I know the night didn’t exactly end as planned, but would you want to do this again sometime?” Kisame inquired as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I had a great time! I’d love to do this again.” Sachiko assured him. Her phone buzzed in her hand and a quick peek showed that her friends were here.

“I’ll text you?” He meant to make it sound more like a statement than a question.

“I’d like that.” She replied. Gathering her courage, Sachiko leaned over the center console and planted a quick kiss to his cheek before gathering her stuff and literally hopping from his truck. She walked quickly to the door where Tenten and Lee were waiting and paused in the doorway of the exit to wave at him. She linked arms with Tenten as they began the walk down the sidewalk.

“Did you have a good time? Was he a gentleman? You didn’t text us!” Lee was almost frantic with his questioning.

“Yes, and yes. He’s great! I’ll tell you all about it over ice cream. What movie did you guys pick?” Sachiko’s smile could stop traffic.

“It’s Lee’s turn to pick, so we’ll be watching This Means War, again.” Tenten sighed. This caused Lee to defend his current favorite romantic comedy all the way to the lounge on the third floor where they claimed the TV for themselves. Not many people stayed in on a Saturday night, so they usually got to use the larger room for their movie nights. Tenten and Sachiko grabbed all the pillows and blankets from their room and the three friends made them cozy as Sachiko told them all about her date as the movie played. She was just about to reach for her pint of ice cream when her phone went off, causing Lee to shush the device.

“No phones during movie night!” he scolded.

“Just a peak?” Sachiko begged. Lee nodded and she pressed the home button to illuminate the screen.

[Kisame] Sweet dreams.  

Sachiko sighed dreamily and fell back against the pillows.

“I hope this works out. I really like him you guys.”

[char27martin]

Quotes on Writing: 19 Classic and Contemporary Lessons from Black American Writers

I grew up in Memphis, Tenn., a city steeped history in general—but specifically in Civil Rights history. In the early 20th century, Memphis was the cotton capital of the world, home to industries dominated by (white) landowners and still mired in racial divisions that had lingered since the Civil War. A crossroads settled at the center of the North and South and home to a large population of black workers, Memphis was geographically and culturally destined to play a major role in the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s.

The city’s history rose to a sharp and tragic crescendo in April 1968, when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated when he visited to support a strike by city sanitation workers.

If you’ve never had the opportunity to visit Memphis and experience the living history that still hums in the air, from Beale Street to the Lorraine Motel, I recommend it.

Perhaps in part because of my connection to the city, Martin Luther King Jr. Day is always a time of particular reflection, and even moreso given the racially focused discussions and conflicts we face today. At such times, I often turn to the words of the black American writers whose voices are recognized around the world for their wisdom and timelessness. I thought I’d share some of my favorites here today.

One note, however: One of the most relevant quotes I’ve found, from a March 30, 1981 interview with Toni Morrison in Newsweek, admittedly made me question whether I ought to be presenting these authors together at all.

Of course I’m a black writer…. I’m not just a black writer, but categories like black writer, woman writer and Latin American writer aren’t marginal anymore. We have to acknowledge that the thing we call “literature” is more pluralistic now, just as society ought to be. The melting pot never worked. We ought to be able to accept on equal terms everybody from the Hassidim to Walter Lippmann, from the Rastafarians to Ralph Bunche.

As Morrison suggested, black writers are not a monolith—nor should they be considered as such. Shelly Stratton suggested something similar in another Writer’s Digest article about the problems with considering, for instance, black women’s fiction to be its own genre.

As such, my aim in this post is not to suggest that these authors ought to be grouped together as one—but instead, to recognize the range of thought leadership and genres in which black American writers have become icons, and the depth of the lessons we can learn from them. The writing community and the larger market still have a long, long way to go in terms of truly reflecting global and national diversity through the voices of writers, but these authors and their stories have paved the way for readers and writers to forge a more inclusive future for the literary world. Their words teach universal lessons to us all.

Writing Insights and Tips by Iconic Black American Writers

Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose. It is a seeking that he who wishes may know the cosmic secrets of the world and they that dwell therein.

— Zora Neal Hurston, Dust Tracks on a Road (1942), from Ch. 10: Research.

Intelligence is ongoing, individual adaptability. Adaptations that an intelligent species may make in a single generation, other species make over many generations of selective breeding and selective dying. Yet intelligence is demanding. If it is misdirected by accident or by intent, it can foster its own orgies of breeding and dying.

— Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Sower (1993), Chapter 4

I believe there is power in words, power in asserting our existence, our experience, our lives, through words.

― Jesmyn Ward, The Fire This Time: A New Generation Speaks about Race (2016)

The act of writing requires a constant plunging back into the shadow of the past where time hovers ghostlike.

— Ralph Ellison, a quote from Writers at Work (1963) edited by George Plimpton

I can give tips on many things, but not productivity and time management. One thing I do is make time. Everyone loves talking about how busy they are. But there are 24 hours in a day. Make a half-hour or hour in a day, or an hour in a week, for writing. Just make sure you have at least one designated time—however long it is, given your constraints—to focus on writing. I treat my writing like a job, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean I give it the respect of a professional endeavor, not a hobby. Even when it was a hobby, I treated it like a job. It is important to do that because craft takes time and demands respect.

— Roxane Gay, Writer’s Digest September 2017

72 of the Best Quotes About Writing

Art has to be a kind of confession. … The effort it seems to me, is: if you can examine and face your life, you can discover the terms with which you are connected to other lives, and they can discover them, too — the terms with which they are connected to other people.

— James Baldwin, from “An interview with James Baldwin” (1961); an interview with Studs Terkel published in Conversations With James Baldwin (1989)

You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone. This is why art is important. Art would not be important if life were not important, and life is important.

— James Baldwin, from “An interview with James Baldwin”

The ability of writers to imagine what is not the self, to familiarize the strange and mystify the familiar, is the test of their power.

— Toni Morrison, “Black Matters” in Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination (1992)

The instructor said,

Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you — Then, it will be true.

— Langston Hughes, “Theme from English B,” Montage of a Dream Deferred (1951)

But please remember, especially in these times of group-think and the right-on chorus, that no person is your friend (or kin) who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow and be perceived as fully blossomed as you were intended.

— Alice Walker, In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: Womanist Prose (1983)

MAYA ANGELOU: You are about five-three, white, Midwestern—right?

[Interviewer] CAROL BENSON: Yes.

ANGELOU: I’m six foot, black, Southwestern. If we started looking at each other and our differences, our family background and personal history, we could find so many differences. But those are tangential, those are peripheral. There are really no differences. We are, first, human beings. And so when you weep, I understand it clearly. When you laugh, I understand it clearly. When you love, you don’t have to translate it to me. These are the important things. Now if you want to tell me what happens in the Midwest, what the summers were like, what you ate for picnics—we can talk, and I can tell you what happened in Arkansas and what happened in California in the ’40s and all that. But those are tangential.

— from an interview in Writer’s Digest, January 1975

Writer’s Digest Digital Archive Collection: Iconic Women Writers

Human nature is not simple and any classification that roughly divides men into good and bad, superior and inferior, slave and free, is and must be ludicrously untrue and universally dangerous as a permanent exhaustive classification.

—W.E.B. DuBois, from his writings, quoted in The Wisdom of W.E.B. Du Bois (2003) edited by Aberjhani

I think my love for books sprang from my need to escape the world I was born into, to slide into another where words were straightforward and honest, where there was clearly delineated good and evil, where I found girls who were strong and smart and creative and foolish enough to fight dragons, to run away from home to live in museums, to become child spies, to make new friends and build secret gardens.

― Jesmyn Ward, Men We Reaped (2013)

The more closely the author thinks of why he wrote, the more he comes to regard his imagination as a kind of self-generating cement which glued his facts together, and his emotions as a kind of dark and obscure designer of those facts. … But the moment he makes the attempt his words falter, for he is confronted and defied by the inexplicable array of his own emotions. Emotions are subjective and he can communicate them only when he clothes them in objective guise; and how can he ever be so arrogant as to know when he is dressing up the right emotion in the right Sunday suit?

— Richard Wright, from the introduction to Native Son (1940)

And then, while writing, a new and thrilling relationship would spring up under the drive emotion, coalescing and telescoping alien facts into a known and felt truth. That was the deep fun of the job; to feel within my body that I was pushing out to new areas of feeling, strange landmarks of emotion, tramping upon foreign soil, compounding new relationships of perceptions, making new and — until that very split second of time! — unheard-of and unfelt effects with words.

— Richard Wright, from the same introduction

Language can never “pin down” slavery, genocide, war. Nor should it yearn for the arrogance to be able to do so. Its force, its felicity is in its reach toward the ineffable. Be it grand or slender, burrowing, blasting, or refusing to sanctify; whether it laughs out loud or is a cry without an alphabet, the choice word, the chosen silence, unmolested language surges toward knowledge, not its destruction. But who does not know of literature banned because it is interrogative; discredited because it is critical; erased because alternate? And how many are outraged by the thought of a self-ravaged tongue?

— Toni Morrison, Nobel Prize Lecture (1993)

“Human beings fear difference,” Lilith had told him once. “Oankali crave difference. Humans persecute their different ones, yet they need them to give themselves definition and status. Oankali seek difference and collect it. They need it to keep themselves from stagnation and overspecialization. If you don’t understand this, you will. You’ll probably find both tendencies surfacing in your own behavior.” And she had put her hand on his hair. “When you feel a conflict, try to go the Oankali way. Embrace difference.”

— Octavia E. Butler, Adulthood Rites (1988) Part II “Phoenix” chapter 4 (p. 329).

I know when it’s the best I can do. It may not be the best there is. Another writer may do it much better. But I know when it’s the best I can do. I know that one of the great arts that the writer develops is the art of saying, No. No, I’m finished. Bye. And leaving it alone. I will not write it into the ground. I will not write the life out of it. I won’t do that.

— Maya Angelou, Paris Review Interview (1990)

  The post Quotes on Writing: 19 Classic and Contemporary Lessons from Black American Writers appeared first on WritersDigest.com.

from Writing Editor Blogs – WritersDigest.com http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/promptly/writing-quotes/quotes-on-writing-lessons-from-iconic-black-american-writers

[doomweaver-93-blog]

Out of my Shell- Coming out as Bi

Salutations, all of you lovely chuckle-fucks! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get the creative juices flowing (giggity), but sometimes it can take a while for the proverbial gears to start turning. So, this time around I thought that I’d take all of you on a colorful journey, telling the tale about my recent coming-out as bi-sexual. And let me tell you, it definitely wasn’t an easy thing for me to do. The uncertainty of how friends and family would react to the news, was the biggest thought pulling at the back of my mind. Ever since my formative years in middle school, I thought I could hide it and not let it be so obvious. But back in October of 2016, I finally decided that I wasn't going to hide my bi-sexuality anymore. I believe that one's sexual identity is nothing to be ashamed of, and that everyone, whether or not they're part of the LGBTQ community, should be damn proud of who they are. I mean, who gives a rat's ass what other people think? Anyway, I bet some of you are wondering how it all started, and why I finally decided to come out after so many years. Well, slap your asses onto your seats and listen good, because the story is about to start....

It all started when I was attending middle school, back when I was living in the traumatic, miserable shithole in New Jersey (which I mentioned in my previous posts). I don't remember what exact grade I was in back then, but my attraction to both sexes stemmed as a result of being around my male classmates in the boys locker room during gym class. I won't go into inglorious details about the sort of thoughts I had, because some of you who are reading this are probably squeamish and easily butt-hurt/offended. The point is, I looked upon both male and female genders with the same sexual attraction, and never once thought I might be bi-sexual. Back then I thought if I came out as bi or if knowledge about my sexual identity somehow circulated, I'd be bullied and demeaned more than I already was. So for the entire time I lived in New Jersey, I kept it to myself and never let it show. And it continued well into my moving out to Ohio to live with my mom, throughout junior high, during high school, and well after taking a hiatus from Landmark College. While I was at Landmark, there were some instances when a random guy would say how cute I was, or commented on how good some of my clothes looked on me. I'd reply with a half-hearted thanks, but I never really gave it much thought. And there were some times when I thought about experimenting (if you know what I mean), but again, I didn't give it much thought. It wasn't until my visit to my brother Andrew and sister-in-law Julie's house in Oregon for their October 2016 wedding, that I FINALLY decided to come out of the proverbial closet as bi-sexual.

I first told my niece, Jasmine, during a Facebook conversation one night, and her response could be nothing short of happy, loving, and supportive.  I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, but I knew that it wouldn't stop there. Months after I flew back home to Ohio, I finally came out out to my previously-mentioned brother Andrew, my sister-in-law Julie, and shortly thereafter, to all of my other family and friends on Facebook. When I told everyone the news via Facebook post, I was nervously holding my breath. I'll admit that I was beyond anxious and nervous about how everyone would react to me being bi-sexual, and I was worried that it'd have a noticeable negative impact on all of my relationships. But in fact, quite the opposite happened. All of my friends and family showed nothing but an overwhelming outpouring of love, support, kindness, and respect. And while that itself was beyond amazing, I was kind of apprehensive about how my mom would react to my coming out, as she is an out-spoken Christian and opposed to things like the LGBTQ community and same-sex marriages. However, she has agreed to be supportive and to keep her opinions on the matter to herself, so I'll take my victories where I can. Once I came out to everyone, I felt like I was finally able to let go of a lot of the crippling anxiety and self-doubt that clouded my mind for so many years. And that, my lovely chuckle-fucks, was an enormous relief of itself.

Like everybody else out there, I'll occasionally come across some very hurtful ridicule from bigoted and prejudicial people, whether it's about my sexual identity, my Asperger's,  or some other aspect of my life. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've been demeaned and belittled because of it. There are times when I wondered whether or not I should've come out as bi-sexual in the first place. As I mentioned earlier, I was definitely apprehensive about how my mom would react to my coming out, as she is a Christian and vehemently opposed to things like same-sex marriage and LGBTQ rights. She even gave me a completely disgusted look when she saw my Facebook post, and after I told her in person. But you know what? I honestly don't give a damn what other people say. The fact of the matter is, I was beyond proud of myself for finding the strength and courage to come out. I don't know why it took me so many years to come out in the first place, but I'm totally glad that I did. I know that there are other people out there who aren't as fortunate as I am in that regard, and all too often there are LGTBQ youth and young adults who are faced with the threat of violence, rejection, or homelessness simply because their own family or friends don't "approve" of their sexual identity. And that really breaks my heart.

The one thing about my coming out that continues to rub me the wrong way, is when people who claim to be "Christians", attempt to threaten me with the "fires of hell", and "God's wrath", because of my sexual identity.  I'll sometimes see one of my mom's church friends out in public, and they'll give me such hateful looks and make the "God is watching" gesture towards me. Which makes me laugh hysterically, because aren't Christians supposed to love everyone, including bi-sexuals and other members of the LGTBQ community? Shit like that nearly played a negative role in my coming out, but I don't give a squadron of flying fucks what a bunch of religious people think or say. The only thing that matters is what I think of myself. And I'm way happy that I did come out, because I feel as though a whole new galaxy of love and possibilities has opened up and made itself known to me, in a manner of speaking. As to my thoughts about other people who are bi-sexual, let me just say this; Bi-sexuals and LGBTQ people in general are just fucking AWESOME. Everyone who identifies as LGBTQ is a super-beautiful person in so many different ways, regardless of what people around them say. I plan on getting involved in LGBTQ rights groups, and when I finally make the move into my own place, try to find some outreach centers of some kind that help people who identify themselves as part of the LGBTQ community. Take it from me, it can be stressful and outright emotionally taxing dealing with all the religious bigotry, hatred, and seemingly endless bullying that's poisoning our world.  I've found that the key to inner beauty and outward peace, is to not even let it bother you in any way. If it gets in your head, it can do all kinds of metaphorical damage to your confidence and self-esteem. Personally, I've adopted the following mindset to help me combat negative words and thoughts; I'm loved. I'm valued. I'm fucking awesome. And, hate has no hold on me. Only love has a say in my life. If you harbor nothing but love in your heart and mind, I guarantee that it'll make an awesome impact in your own life.  I know that it's definitely helped me out in mine.

In closing, I'd like to pop a cap of advice on all of you out there; whether you're straight, gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, just know that you're loved and valued, no matter what. If you're anxious about coming out, or facing any kind of hate and scorn for identifying yourself differently from the world's twisted sense of "normal", just take some deep breaths and surround yourself with nothing but upbeat, loving and supportive people. If others can't or won't love and support you for being yourself, then honestly, you don't need them at all. Educate yourself about the various resources and networks that are available out there, if a situation arises where you feel rejected and un-wanted. You're never alone. Don't be afraid of coming out and expressing yourself for who you are. There are tons of people all over the world who are ready and willing to talk to you (myself included), whenever you just need to get something off your mind, or if you need to hear someone say some loving and encouraging words. Research different services that are available for any LGBTQ youth/ young adults facing the threat of being cast out, simply because of their sexual identity. And lastly, when some bigoted fuck-wad shows you hate and contempt, show nothing but love and peace. Believe me, I know that this particular post might not seem like my most creative piece, and I did struggle to put the thoughts in my head as words on paper and a screen, but I feel like I've written this piece for anyone out in the world who identifies as LGBTQ and is afraid of coming out for fear of bullying, rejection, scorn from family or friends, and any manner of bigotry and prejudicial judgment. I wanted to speak up for those who might find themselves voiceless in some way, and at the same time, tell my own story to those who are willing to listen. I might struggle a lot to translate my thoughts into words, but I also feel like that this is one of the more candid tales I've told to all of you, my lovely chuckle-fucks. If you have any questions about this post, or just want to chat me up, feel free to contact me on any of my social media accounts listed below;

Email: doomweaver93@yahoo.com

Facebook: Josh Lesure

Twitter: Josh Lesure

Tumblr: doomweaver-93

I'd like to thank all of my friends from Landmark College, Dragonfly Academy, and my family for helping (in some way) to make this story possible, and I hope it helps to shed some more light on the delightfully twisted tale that is me, yours truly.  Many thanks for your continued love and support, and I hope to continue writing some more sordid tales in the future, fortune willing. You're all such fucking awesome people, and I wouldn't be who I am without you. Never forget to show love and kindness to those who need it. Right now, somewhere out there is a person who's perhaps struggling with their sexual orientation, and is uncertain about whether they should come out or not, and they need all the love and support they can possibly get. Try to volunteer for groups/organizations that help and provide aid to displaced people who identify as LGBTQ and need help getting on their feet. I myself was worried about possibly being thrown out onto the streets after coming out as bi-sexual, so I'm somewhat familiar with that level of fear and uncertainty. Never be ashamed to ask those you can trust for help, or to reach out to a a group of people that can provide you with the resources and caring if you're a young person who probably feels hated and unwelcome in your home environment. Get involved in things like pride groups and outreach centers where they're available. Once again, thank you all so much for continuing to love and support me throughout this fucked-up journey called life, and I hope to write some more sordid tales for you in the near future. Until next time, always remember to show love and peace in the face of hate, prejudice and bigotry. Stay strong, and hold your head up high. Huzzah!

[rightwingbully-blog]

Returning to Conservatism at the Height of Controversy

As many reading this already know, all throughout the latter half of 2016 I was a vehement supporter of Hillary Clinton. Today I can say with the utmost confidence, I was wrong and I’m sure some of my friends and family will never let me live that down. First and foremost, I need to clarify: I strongly believe that Donald Trump is the most unqualified, embarrassing, and repulsive individual to work in the oval office to date. I will likely never support him, nor see him as a legitimate leader. HOWEVER, I feel that under a Republican ran congress, with actual politicians working along side him, America actually may have a shot. There are a few things I want to accomplish with this initial blog. First and foremost, I want to clear the air as to why I ever fell into the trap of socialism. Second, I want to make a case for my fellow men and women on the right who may need some statistics to back up their claims in their next heated Thanksgiving arguments. Lastly, I want to express clearly what it is that the Republican and Libertarian parties represent to me. So without further ado, topic number one.... It all really comes down to one key element- marketing. With a solid marketing plan you can make even the most ludicrous items seem enticing. The Democratic Party have managed to grasp on to a majority of today's millennials and young adults by painting a vivid picture of a socialist utopia with no person left hungry, sick or wanting. They make progressive Europe out to be the epitome of civilization and cultural acceptance, laying out bullet point after bullet point of good things that might happen if you are willing to release “this” freedom or “that” one in a blind trust- or at the very least, you'd be willing to compromise on them, right? By captivating such a large majority of today's youth, they have gained a plethora of individuals that are undergoing or have completed a higher level of education. These individuals are formidable. Buying into the promises of big brother, they contort statistics and budgets to fit their agenda. They tell you that free or affordable college or healthcare will not affect your taxes to any degree, or that it will be such a small amount you won't notice it. The young and struggling, like myself in the very recent past, further buy in to this fantasy in hopes that it may set us free of financial mistakes we may have made previously. I will counter this using simple statistics, and at the same time address the issue of illegal immigration. My example of socialism will the ever-praised Canada, and obviously my example of capitalism will be the best god damn country on the face of the fuckin' earth (USA!) So, it's all pretty simple math once you find the numbers to plug in. This is what it looks like:

CANADA 35.16mil people 17mil of which are tax payers cost of healthcare $141 billion

This averages out to $8,294 per tax payer annually. Information provided by Fraser Institute, note the figures they give show the price per Canadian, not per tax payer. Since not every Canadian is a tax payer that leads to one of the misleading statistics that I addressed previously. (The number they provide is $4k)

USA USA USA 319mil plus approximately 11mil illegal immigrants totaling to 330mil. 122mil tax payers Due to the population of the US being roughly 9x that of Canada, we simply multiply the cost of Canadian care by nine to end up with a total of 1.2 trillion. This averages out to about $9800 per tax payer annually.

If that doesn't sound bad enough, take into consideration that the entire federal budget of 2015 was only 3.8 trillion. There is simply not a way to “smarter spend” our way without raising taxes drastically. (source for 2015 budget:nationalpriorities.org/budget-basics/federal-budget-101/spending ) Socialism is not a sustainable idea for a nation this populated with a budget that size. Even if it were, such an idea can not become a reality without a strong border. This isn't a new, bigoted concept that evil Orange Hitler came up with. For decades presidents have been calling to strengthen our border security- ol' Tiny Hands just so happens to think a wall will work (spoiler: it wont, that's not how we should go about it.)  And if you think Obama didn't believe that, do a quick google search right now saying “Which US President had the most deportations?” To tackle the idea of illegal immigration, I'll bring up one method that these men and women are and have been using for quite some time. It was brought up during the Swift Raids of 2006 but I haven't heard much of it since. A large number of those arrested by ICE during those raids were charged with identity theft. There isn't a specific number anywhere that I've found, but all articles claim hundreds. The most common method of identity theft for work purposes is using their own name, but stealing a SSN. That is 98% of such cases ( cis.org/IdentityTheft ) We do have a system in place that detect this fraud but it is not nationally enforced. Using this method, they do help our federal government by paying their income taxes, however, in addition to the felony crime they're committing, we also lose economic stimulation. According to the Bureau of Economic Analysis, illegal immigrants send about $50 billion in remittances to their native countries annually. That averages out to about $4500 a person. WOW- that's a lot of info and a whole lot of numbers to remember. But I will end the boring stuff there, thus concluding my second objective. So now we arrive at the heavily opinionated part of today's lecture, children. Feel free to check out now, I don't care. Revisiting the marketing aspect, for years the left had all kinds of empty rhetoric logged into my mind as to what was offensive and what wasn't. They've played out the words “Hitler” and “Nazi” so much that they can now call a gay Jew with a black boyfriend a Nazi with a straight face, and absolutely mean it. They convinced my that a wage gap was real, that people were really missing out on opportunities due to something like race or sexual orientation... With enough of the echo chamber, you begin to feel guilty just for existing as a straight, white, middle class male. In these echo chambers- these facebook pages, forums, YouTube comment threads, etc- you will be silenced and told you don't understand the struggles these groups face. You're conditioned to believe that you're not allowed to feel oppressed or overworked and under paid. Well I'm gonna tell you right now- that's a load of fucking horse shit. I'm embarrassed it took me so long to realize. They call America the land of opportunity. There are no conditions to that title. It's just that. All US Citizens are now guaranteed the same rights- and the reason people immigrate here, legally or not, is because of THOSE values! Cherry picking instances like Alton Sterling or Castille to try to paint a picture of a nation of racist pigs but condemning me for believing ISIS is the true face of Islam is not only hypocritical but it is marvelously stupid. [Short rabbit trail- I don't like cops either but tens of thousands of them go to work every day without committing a racist act. Meanwhile you can find more than one verse that condones the beheading of non-believers in the Quran. I find this to be an interesting comparison because the left argue you can't attribute the actions of a few to the whole crowd- apparently unless it's the judicial system.] All that said, I'm still fairly progressive on some things. Climate change is real and we need to do something about it. I'm pro-choice but to me it makes sense to ask for the father's consent as well. And of course, I want gays and lesbians to be able to have the same opportunity to be miserable like everyone else. I wouldn't mind being able to smoke a joint once in a while either, but whatever. To close: I hope Trump does well through his presidency. I hope our congress can get things moving in the right direction. And above all else I hope to someday see us govern based entirely off the constitution. If you liked this please let me know. I'm going to periodically post opinion-based blogs from now until whenever I feel like not doing it anymore. I may do some where I dissect amendments of the Constitution, interpret them and really dig in. Not sure yet. The ol' hamster is just now starting to run, but mostly I'm hoping that doing something like this will help me keep my personal facebook a little less political. That's all for now!

[viralhottopics]

In Iraq, thousands of terrorism’s victims go unnamed

(CNN)It was a typical July night in Baghdad and even at midnight, the air radiated the day’s heat. Some people in the upscale Karrada neighborhoood were sitting at outdoor cafes, watching a nail-biter finish to a Germany-Italy soccer match.

Thousands more were shopping. The holy month of Ramadan was near its end, and Baghdadis were buying new clothes and gifts for the festival of Eid al-Fitr. The brightly lit Hadi Center mall was teeming with people, as were the myriad shops and eateries along the main avenue.

Fathers and mothers were out with their young children; teenagers and college students hung out with friends. On that Saturday night, Karrada was hopping. It was a time for joy and mirth; a time to celebrate with loved ones.

But all was shattered about 45 minutes after midnight when the sound of an explosion reverberated through the entire neighborhood.

Sajad Jiyad, a 33-year-old political analyst, was with friends at a nearby caf discussing Italy’s defeat in the critical Euro Cup match when he felt the blast. The sound was one he and other Baghdad residents had grown used to over years of violence.

Baghdadis, he later wrote on his blog, have learned “to differentiate between a car bomb, a truck bomb, a Grad or Katyusha rocket, a mortar, a grenade, an improvised landmine or IED, a missile, or just a plain sound bomb.”

This one, he thought, sounded like a car bomb that could kill maybe 10 people.

He reached instinctively for his mobile phone to check initial reports on social media. He has known someone killed or injured every year since 2003, when the U.S.-led invasion triggered a seemingly constant state of violence.

Jiyad learned the bombing was at the Hadi Center and his heart skipped a beat. He knew how crowded it was that night. Suddenly, the mood changed at the caf. No one cared anymore about football. Phones started ringing. Fire trucks and ambulances began speeding past. On social media, Jiyad saw images of the mall engulfed in flames and the death toll creep past 15.

He tried to drive toward the blast site but turned back after he saw the chaos. He went home and fell asleep at 4 in the morning, thinking perhaps this latest act of terror had left maybe 30 people dead.

But by 7 a.m. on Sunday, Jiyad’s phone was buzzing and ringing constantly. The death toll had reached 65, and Jiyad began to understand the gravity of the incident.

‘He is dead, whoever it is you are looking for’

On his drive to work, Jiyad found the normally bustling streets eerily sedate, as though Baghdad were under another curfew. The acrid smell of fire hung over the city. The looks on people’s faces fell somewhere between shock and sadness.

Throughout the morning, the death toll kept rising: 100, 115, 140. It would be many weeks before the final count would be known: 382.

Among all the terrorist attacks of 2016 worldwide, the Karrada bombing on July 3 stood as the year’s deadliest.

2016’s worst terror attack, and the victims you never heard of

And yet to Westerners accustomed to news reports about violence in Iraq, it would be just another bombing in which the numbers, not the victims, would be front and center. Media outlets would report what happened, who claimed responsibility and how many were killed and injured. And then the world would move on.

In the immediate aftermath of the bombing, Jiyad reacted as he always does when he hears of senseless acts of violence in his hometown: He felt sadness and anger, tempered by a certain numbness.

That was, until he learned his friend Ahmed Dhiaa was among the missing. Dhiaa had gone shopping for Eid presents with two of his brothers-in-law. His phone was active until 12:55 a.m. After that, no one was able to reach him.

Rescuers were still pulling bodies from the charred ruins of buildings. It wasn’t a car bomb but a truck packed with explosives that had detonated; the fire that followed had burned people alive and possibly done more damage than the bomb itself. Many of the bodies were charred beyond recognition.

Mohammed Al-Rubaye, deputy head of the security committee of the Baghdad Provincial Council, said he’d seen 30 years of fires and explosions but nothing like this. Many of the dead had to be identified by DNA.

Late Sunday afternoon, Jiyad drove to the site of the bombing with a heavy sense of dread, but he couldn’t get close enough to be of any use. Instead, he stared at the blackened sidewalks and the burned guts of the mall.

A man next to him who had been shoveling through ashes for hours looked at Jiyad and said: “He is dead, whoever it is you are looking for is dead. If he hasn’t showed up this morning then just accept it.”

Jiyad walked away because he felt there was no point looking at the scene. It was all death and destruction, a place where hope no longer existed.

By 6 p.m., Jiyad received the confirmation he had feared. His friend’s body had been pulled from the rubble. He didn’t know what to do or how to express what he felt. So he sat and stared at a wall for a while.

Jiyad saw Dhiaa as part of a new generation of younger, well-educated Iraqis who wanted to turn a devastated country around. Dhiaa worked at the Agriculture Commission and wrote about ways to enhance modern farming. He believed Iraq’s future would be better than its past. That kind of optimism made him a bright light among his family, friends and colleagues.

“I open Ahmad’s Facebook page, I want to see photos of him smiling, to remember him as a wonderful young man, not to think of his burned body,” Jiyad wrote on his blog. “I tear up as I flick through the photos, he was going to achieve so much, he should not be dead.”

They loved and were loved

So many of the dead had hopes and dreams erased by a single moment of extreme violence.

They were 5 years old. And 50. Sunni and Shiite. Muslim and non-Muslim.

They were lawyers, doctors, activists, artists, students, recent graduates, engineers and policemen. A husband and wife died together. A father and two sons.

Some were better known than others.

Adel Euro was a dancer inspired by Michael Jackson’s moves, especially the Moonwalk. He taught himself to dance secretly in his house. His parents warned him he would face trouble in conservative Iraq, where dancers can be seen as being gay, he told the BBC in 2015. The police confronted him once, telling him he had brought shame on himself.

But Euro believed he was born to be a dancer and he persevered, taking classes for the last two years of his life via Skype with New York City’s Battery Dance Company. One day, he said, he hoped to leave Iraq and “go to a place where people love dancing.”

Zulfiker Orabi was the young and handsome son of a former Iraqi football star, Ghanim Orabi, who played on the 1986 World Cup team.

Mohammed Badri was a young dentist and a father of a little girl who spent his spare time helping Iraqi orphans. His wife gave birth to their son on the day Badri was buried.

Iraqi filmmaker Mustafa Najafi, whose cousin knew Badri well, posted photos of Badri as well as many of the other victims on Twitter with the hashtag #NotJustANumber.

“With everything that is happening around the world, people have lost their humanity,” Najafi told CNN. “It’s all about religion, sex, where are you from, where are am I from?

“Having an image of that person and the slightest little detail about their life … helps people relate to them,” he said.

On Twitter, the world came to know, for instance, that Akram al-Bayati was planning for his wedding in just a few days. Mourners carried his wedding suit next to his coffin.

“I don’t want people to feel sorry for Iraqis, but I want them to feel some sympathy,” Najafi said.

He wants Westerners to recognize that terror inflicted by Islamists doesn’t just strike in France, Belgium, Germany and America. It happens in Iraqi much too often.

2017 is only a few days old and already more than 140 people have been killed in Iraq’s violence. This, on top of the 6,878 civilians killed in 2016.

Again, the victims have become numbers in Western news reports. In recent days, deaths in Baghdad were once more overshadowed — this time by the nightclub attack in Istanbul — or reported only as statistics.

Rasha Al Aqeedi, an Iraqi fellow at Al Mesbar Studies and Research Center in Dubai, said even though the Istanbul victims were overwhelmingly Muslim, they were seen as Westernized with liberal or Christian values.

“It is easier for a Westerner to identify with them than with the Iraqi,” Al Aqeedi said. “A Muslim terrorist killing ‘us’ will always be more concerning than a Muslim terrorist killing ‘other Muslims.'”

#NotJustANumber started trending after the Karrada bombing as Iraqis, disappointed by the world’s muted reaction to their tragedy, put up photographs of the friends and family they lost.

They wanted the world to know Baghdad’s victims were real people with real lives. People who loved and people who were loved. They were just like the people who had been killed in Paris, Brussels, Berlin and Istanbul.

‘Please remember Iraq’

The night of the Karrada bombing, countless people in Baghdad waited to hear about their loved ones, gripped by the kind of uncertainty and fear that many Americans felt on September 11, 2001.

Nedal Wady Hassan, 42, was one of them. Her sons Abdalla and Ali Tawfeeq both worked in shops in Karrada. Abdalla, 22, had quit school when he was 8 so he could earn money for his family.

He left for work that day wearing brand new clothes — he liked style and owned several bottles of cologne. He kissed his mother before walking out the door.

A half hour later, the bomb went off. Hassan says she felt in her gut that something terrible had happened. “I just lost my son,” she thought.

Ali, who worked in a nearby shop, tried desperately to search for his brother. But a great wall of fire stood between them. He returned home bloodied and banged up and could not bear to answer his desperate mother’s questions.

Hasan put on clothes and her hijab and went down to the explosion site. She described it as “Judgment Day.”

“Nobody could talk or say anything,” she said. “Everything was destroyed.”

She told CNN that she could not recognize her son’s body. He had no clothes, no hands, no legs, no hair. He did not even have his eyes.

“Nothing at all,” she said.

Still, she was thankful to have retrieved a body to bury. She felt for the mothers whose sons were lying in the morgue, waiting to be identified. She felt for mothers like Shada Mohamed Ali, who lost two sons, Adnan and Ali, as well as her husband, Safaa.

Adnan was almost finished with a law degree at Al Mansour University. Ali had graduated from college and joined his father’s business.

“They were candles lighting our house and that got extinguished,” said Shada Ali. “I wish they could return and everything could be returned the way it was. However, this is what God wanted.”

Shada Ali said she used to worry about her sons when they left the house and got in their cars. “Be alert,” she would tell them, especially while stopped at intersections. She worried they might be abducted or shot. She told her husband not to take them to crowded places like Hadi Center.

“Don’t worry,” her husband told her. “Nothing will happen.”

He was wrong. At 45, Shada Ali was left a widow grieving for her husband and young sons.

The streets of Baghdad saw one funeral procession after another. Images of those who perished began appearing on the charred walls of the Hadi Center. Massive crowds gathered at the site for memorial vigils. Or to express their anger.

They were angry at Daesh, the Arabic acronym for ISIS, which took responsibility for the attack. But they were also angry at their own government for failing to prevent it, and then for taking so long to identify all the bodies and figure out how it happened. Ultimately, they relied on their resiliency, toughened by relentless violence, to get through the Karrada tragedy.

Jiyad, the political analyst, told CNN that Iraqis have learned that suffering and sacrifice are necessary to survive difficult times.

“Violence is not normalized,” he said, “but they have adapted to cope with it and to maintain their dignity and … move on .”

Iraq’s response to the Karrada bombing should be to unite against the terrorists, he said. For the rest of the world, he had this message: “Please remember Iraq and its people in your prayers, your show of support means a great deal.”

He hoped Iraq’s dead would not be forgotten.

Read more: http://cnn.it/2j4qsYC

from In Iraq, thousands of terrorism’s victims go unnamed