#like yeah i know

[detectivebambam]

hey btw short people are not children. i am a legal adult and i do not need a random stranger to talk to me in a baby voice or tell me how to cross the road. shut the fuck up

[kedreeva]

My setup today at the reptile expo!

I will definitely say, the Sunday shows are not as good as the Saturday ones. We'll probably be skipping Sunday ones from now on. I did hand out a lot of business cards and brochures today, though, and made a good impression on a lot of people. I even had one person drag her family to my booth after she handled a mouse, and we were able to work out trading in the mice her niece bought from someone else for some of mine instead.

I KNOW we changed some minds today, because there were several people who made disgusted faces until I started talking and they meandered close enough to see someone holding a calm, sweet mouse. Absolutely LOVE hearing "I never knew a mouse could be like this." I had one pest-control guy stop by and explain that he kills mice for a living, but he wanted to hold a live one that was calm and he kept quietly saying to himself "it's so different/it's so nice." I had so many people ask me "how much do you handle them to get them this tame" and be surprised the answer is "I do not handle them, this temperament is bred into their DNA." I had a lady who just... broke, standing there with a mouse laying in her hands calm as could be, and she said very quietly "do little kids hold these?" Just mystified.

I've learned now to say that they won't jump or bite because they are bred for show and have to be able to sit in a judge's hand without jumping or biting, and for some reason the judge part of this just clicks the info for people? Like I always say no they won't jump or bite, but they don't always believe me... but I say a judge has to be able to hold it? Every single person was like "oh" and just relaxed about it. Suddenly it's just like: Ah, Yes, this is a Professional Mouse.

Someone from my old job showed up, and didn't recognize me, though I recognized them. When I mentioned it, they said they'd left, too, they only "lasted" two months. I said I was there twelve years and they were like HOW and it's like my dude (neutral), I entered a fugue state in 2010 and quit the job 12 years later I guess. They ended up taking 2 mice home.

At any rate, I had fun as always. We have another one Saturday, so I'm hoping to sell the few that didn't sell today, and to bring a few more that weren't quiiiiite ready to go today. I wish the tricolors would get their act together and start breeding better, because I would LOVE to offer more of those. The siamese are working on it, which is great because those ALSO sell fast. But alas, I cannot make the mice go any faster than they want to go.

[blue-b-bro]

No seriously how sadistic it is to get House a patient he sympathized with, because of her he looked back at his whole life after his surgery, realized and admitted out loud that he became unhappy and unpleasant because of the pain. He actually abandoned his personal grudges and realized that what's actually important is human connections. That it's better to loose a limb than ending up alone. He finally understood that yes it's better to loose a leg than die. That it wouldn't be so bad. That it would be better than what he did in the past.

And after he agreed that amputation is necessary, as if letting himself see a glimpse of an alternate life he could have had, the one where he didn't become miserable, where he's surrounded by his loved ones... She dies.

[eric-the-disposable-demon]

hey uh im not coming back just yet I just wanted to say I love yall

[thebelovedlion]

i. have been TRICKED. BACKSTABBED. BAMBOOZLED. SCHMECKLEDORFED.

my dad bought me a burger and then only after i ate it he revealed it was a Mr Beast burger.

[trasho-pando2011]

so, Nintendo, let me get this straight...

I can play THESE

But not this?

[staring-at-a-blank-pagee]

"you're so smart, if only you'd apply yourself more and actually try-" hey shut the fuck up actually

[cowgirliee]

hate when you apply for a job and they’re like “you’re so overqualified for this why do you want it” like what am I meant to reply to that

[homocidal-invader]

Could you guys tag your posts complaining about ship hate? I kind of find it triggering so if you tagged it with something like #anti zadr discussion or something that'd be neat

[nonegenderleftgalaxy]

I wish someone would help me out with my school troubles instead of me going out and getting told I have school troubles

[sidebaxolotl]

Farewell leetol chin hairs, you will be missed

[travisdermotts]

okay also I'm trying to make plans to meet up with a partner for a project and I suggested a day after reading week and she just emailed back saying that she was going away for reading week and couldn't meet.....like???? what????

[i-say-your-mom]

your mom got "disability" are you kidding?

here's a random word generator--whatever word it gives you is now the thing you are the deity of

[blueskittlesart]

read that post blacked out and woke up with this on my computer. crazy. stay safe out there everyone

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[lo-fag]

idk man. i just think itd be really cool if sign language classes were mandatory throughout primary school. yeah because it would make communication with deaf kids and autistic/nonverbal kids much easier. and those kids would be accessible to the others so they could make friends and have healthy relationships. yeah. and kids would eat that shit up man. like their own little secret language? they love that.