#republican dickwads

[derogatoryapparently]

Google it.

[spainkitty]

I'm an American teacher who teaches English in China. We have to have govt approved textbooks, even in private schools, and the government will regularly, once or twice a semester, send reps to check out the classes. There's a HUGE shuffle for all textbooks that we make, especially for our bilingual program, to get hidden away or left at home. Sts just won't have textbooks for about a week while we wait for the govt visits to be over.

but... do you know what I have in my middle school classroom? DO YOU KNOW WHAT I HAVE? A FUCKING PERSONAL CLASSROOM LIBRARY. As long as the TEXTBOOKS follow the fucking curriculum, they don't care what extracurricular novels our students might read, or what the teachers might set out on the shelves for free time reading. In a country where we literally have to hide nonsanctioned textbooks, we still have more freedom in our FREE READING TIME.

so whenever I get back home, if anyone fucking dares look me in the eye and talk about how "commi" and "big brother" China is (it is, I'm not gonna deny that), I'll punch them in the fucking face.

I don't Think ive seen anyone on here talking abt some US states forcing teachers to remove all books from their classrooms and force them to only have pre-vetted books available or else face possible JAIL TIME ???

[geezerwench]

"Kevin McCarthy of CA, Reps. Scott Perry of Pennsylvania, Jim Jordan of Ohio, Andy Biggs of Arizona and Mo Brooks of Alabama. All five ignored the subpoenas."

Huh. Let's see.

$5.00 says their "punishment" for ignoring the subpoenas will be, "You were bad, bad boys. Now promise you'll never do it again. See ya at lunch!"

Nothing will happen to them. A "censure" ain't shit.

[iwouldkickahorse]

Hey moron. The conservatives killed roe, not Biden. How many justices have been placed by Dems in the last 40 years? How many did the GOP steal? If you can't answer those questions you should shut the fuck up because you don't know your ass from a hole in the ground.

hey dickwad thats what I’m saying, if you put your entire ass energy into putting a dem in president, then do nothing about the current republican majot in the house, then you aren’t gonna get anywhere and there will be more horrible republican decisions made

[swordbending]

YALL this guy I went to high school with was asked to define critical race theory on cnn & absolutely humiliated himself I haven't stopped laughing since I saw it in a random tweet & I just have to share it here bc it made my day

[squidyyy23]

for his honey 🍯

ian’s impressed when his husband’s business savvy helps them expand their farm. and he's going to make sure he knows it.

we all know @gallawitchxx is the queen bee of the birthday trope mashup ficlets. but what about her birthday prompt: alternate universe with characters who work together? so here you go, babe. a little something for your bee-day 🐝

rating: [be]e (<- "i was hoping for something a bit spicer". challenge accepted. 🌶) word count: 3.5k

and shoutout to sara @shameless-notashamed for the brilliant beta brain

read below the cut or on ao3 🍯🐝

Mickey’s phone vibrates in his pocket. It takes a moment for him to register the feeling against his leg out here surrounded by the familiar white noise of his bees buzzing away in their hives. He slides the frame back into the box, quickly removes his gloves, sets them beside his well-used smoker, and answers the call.

“He signed the contract!” an excited woman squeals through the speaker. He winces, holding the phone farther away from his ear. “I’ll swing by with a copy for you two to sign tomorrow.”

Mickey’s beaming when he hangs up. Victorious.

“Who was that?” Ian brushes the dirt off his hands and wanders over from where he’d been working in his garden.

It’s curiosity only, an interest in his husband’s life. Not an ounce of distrust or jealousy. They’d long gotten over all that shit. Solid for over a decade.

“Realtor,” Mickey answers.

“Realtor?” Ian repeats, confused.

“We got it.” Mickey doesn’t bother to hide his accomplished smile. Hell of a fight, but he did it.

“We got what?” Ian still hasn’t caught on.

“It. The land. The expansion.”

“Wait, what? I thought—” Mickey watches the realization wash over him. “How?”

“I have my ways.” Mickey smirks.

“‘Course you do.” Ian’s body language softens, excitement morphing into something else. Something notably hotter than even the warm summer air. “You always make shit happen.”

Damn straight he does.

Mickey looks around at all they’ve built. Their respectable plot of land. The couple acres of bee farm. The sizable garden they cleared last year for Ian’s crops. The small country store by the road where they sell their local, organic honey—and more recently, Ian’s produce and quickly-becoming-famous jarred tomato sauce—to tourists passing through on their way to their fancy-ass vacation homes in the mountains. A huge step up from the booth they used to lug around to every farmer’s market in a hundred-mile radius.

Ever since Ian followed his gardening passions to grow their business, he’s been whining about not having enough space to grow all the shit he wants. Nerdy ass motherfucker has all dozen of his beds mapped out in a goddamn spreadsheet trying to squeeze in as many things as possible.

They’d talked about trying to purchase the empty lot behind theirs. Called up a realtor. Paid a fucking appraiser to come out and give them an estimate of the land’s value. Sat down one very long night with the books and crunched the numbers. It was doable. 

Only stumbling block was the prick who currently owned it. Some old, rich, white, republican asshole whose family bought up half the town generations ago. Jackass in a suit with zero intention of ever using the land for anything other than stroking his own ego. 

So they made him an offer in line with said ego. Too generous if you asked Mickey, but Ian was so eager to make it happen that Mickey’d agreed. The response came back the very same day. No. Dickwad had refused to even consider it.

Ian wrote it off as a lost cause and sulked around for a week. But Mickey didn’t plan on letting it go that easily. If this guy thought he could bully them around just because he had a half-decent education and a pile of daddy’s money, he had another thing coming. 

Kind of shit Terry would have pulled if he’d had the power. The thought only pissed Mickey off and made him want to fuck the guy over even more. His fist-fighting days might be over, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still up for a good challenge. Don’t fuck with a man’s honey.

“Can’t believe you kept going after him.” Ian steps into Mickey’s space. Drapes his arms over his shoulders. “Thought we’d given up.” A familiar fire burns in his eyes.

Mickey looks up into Ian’s heated gaze. “My husband’s got eight hundred varieties of tomatoes to grow. Think I’m gonna let some jackass stand in the way of that?” He grins, a mischievous thing, knowing damn well what these kinds of things do to Ian.

In an instant, Ian’s lips are on his, his tongue slipping through Mickey’s smile. 

God, he fucking loves this man. All these years and it never gets old. Still that same rush. That same fluttering in his gut.

Ian’s arms slide down and wrap around Mickey’s back, those huge hands spread possessively across his rib cage. Mickey lets his hands fall from Ian’s waist to his hips where he slips his thumbs into the band of his dirty jeans and tugs. Not enough to pull them off, but enough to convey the message.

Hands drop to Mickey’s hips, pulling them forward and holding him steady as Ian grinds their already half-hard dicks together. Mickey swallows down the low moan breathed into his mouth before Ian pulls back, stepping away in his best effort to restrain himself.

“Not here,” Ian says.

“Jesus Christ. This again?” Mickey complains, wiping sweat from his brow, a combination of heat and arousal.

“I just can’t,” Ian whines. “The endless buzzing. Thousands of tiny eyes. Watching.” He makes a show of visibly shuddering at the thought.

“They’re bees. They aren’t fucking watching. Pretty sure they don’t give a shit to see us bang.”

“What if one stings your dick?”

“Seriously?” Mickey grouches. “Used to fuck behind the hives at the school almost every day. Never used to complain then.” But Mickey starts gathering his bee-keeping supplies into his toolbox anyway.

“Actually, yes. Yes, I did, but I put up with it ‘cause it was the only spot your dad would never come near.” Ian helps him pack up his tools.

There really was something funny about the fact that Terry—the big, tough, drug-running, child-abusing piece of shit—was terrified of some tiny, fuzzy insects. Maybe that’s part of what drew Mickey to bee-keeping. A quiet way to piss on his father.

Mickey hadn’t even known what apiculture was when he’d signed up for the high school’s agriculture program as his junior year elective. But it sounded like an easy class, and maybe he’d pick up some tips to up production from his weed plants. And of course Ian was there, damn hippie with a provider complex, eager to learn how to feed his whole family from a handful of seeds. 

Ended up being the only period Mickey never skipped. Surprisingly, some of the material still managed to sink in even if he did spend every class staring at silky red hair. 

They rush back to the store in record time, teasing each other the whole way. Mickey grabs at Ian’s dick, tickling his balls through his jeans. Ian slaps his ass when Mickey turns to run, a seductive waggle to his strut. Flirty and fun, always bringing out that youthful energy in each other.

Finally, they reach the back door, slamming it open as they bumble their way inside, practically tripping over each other on their quest to get behind the locking door of their office. But of fucking course, the bell chimes, and in walks an elderly couple, probably retired, traveling through in that giant-ass RV Mickey can see through the front windows.

And Mickey’s about to get real bitchy with these cockblocking customers, already sucking in a breath ready to blow, when Ian’s hand lands on his chest. Cool it, tiger. Can’t be scaring off the money makers.

Mickey lets it out, restrains himself just enough, tapping his foot while Ian goes off to greet the couple. He watches Ian show them around the store, offering samples of their most popular varieties of honey. 

It’s a small shop, but it’s nice. Theirs. Mickey ain’t ashamed to admit he’s proud of it.

After what seems like hours to Mickey’s impatiently pulsing dick, Ian finally rings them up. Managed to sweet talk them into three bottles of honey, a jar of his precious tomato sauce, and even one of Franny’s handmade bracelets on display by the register. Mickey’s always impressed by his husband’s salesman skills, but Jesus fuck, can he not be so fucking nice to everyone all the damn time?

Ian flips the sign on the door to “closed”. His eyes land on Mickey, fucking him up and down from across the room. Mickey’s ass clenches in anticipation. Then the tension snaps, the both of them darting toward the office in the same instant.

Mickey makes it there first. By the time he turns around, Ian’s locking the door behind them, shirt already stripped off somewhere along the way. Fucker really hates shirts.

Before Mickey can blink, Ian’s got him shoved up against the wall, his body pinning him hard against the old wood paneling. He smells like dirt and sun and tomato leaves. Up this close, Mickey can see the pollen dusting across his nose, hiding amongst the freckles.

“Now tell me,” Ian growls into the crook of Mickey’s neck, breath hot against his skin, “how you broke that bastard into selling you the land.” Mickey tilts his head back, exposing more flesh to Ian’s busy lips. “Into giving you what you wanted.”

“Told him— fuck.” Ian pulls the collar of Mickey’s shirt open with his teeth, revealing even more skin to be ravaged.

“Tell me,” Ian chides.

Mickey sucks in a shaky breath. “Told him if he didn’t hand over the land, the ABF, USDA, and EPA would be up his ass ‘bout fucking with an endangered species’ natural habitat. Went after the fuckers money. ‘Course he folded.”

Mickey leaves out the part about slipping his brother some cash to “look into the guy” just in case the legal threats didn’t pan out. But if he never had to use the blackmail, Ian didn’t need to know.

“Money’s all that prick’s got in his life.” Mickey hisses as Ian grinds their hips together at just the right angle. “Doesn’t have a hunk of a husband like I do.”

Ian smiles at him like Mickey just came home with the winning lottery ticket. 

“Fuck, I married the sexiest man on the planet.”

Ian reaches under Mickey’s ass and lifts his feet off the floor. Mickey circles his arms around his neck, holding on as their mouths crash together. Knocking teeth. Bruised and bitten lips.

Then Ian’s moving. Stumbling backward. Mickey’s too lost in their fervid kisses to pay much mind, trusting completely in his husband. At Ian’s mercy, always.

The back of his legs hit the edge of the desk, and Ian sets him down. The perfect height to line their mouths up just right. 

Mickey’s hands work their way into Ian’s hair, tugging at the strands and scratching at his scalp. Ian clasps Mickey’s cheeks, his thumbs rubbing soft circles along his jawline, a stark contrast to the way he sucks Mickey’s lips between his teeth and pinches.

They’re both panting when they finally part for air. Ian’s fingers frantically unfasten Mickey’s jeans. Mickey uses his arms wrapped around Ian’s neck to pull him up enough for Ian to slide them off, exposing his bare ass to the polished wood. 

He hears seams popping when Ian yanks Mickey’s shirt over his head. Ian wraps him in his strong arms and moans when their naked chests press together.

“You showed that asshole who’s boss,” Ian says, stepping back and stripping out of his own pants. “Now let me show yours.”

He rounds the desk. In one fluid movement, he swipes everything on its surface to the ground. Pens scatter, papers go flying, but it’s just a mess. They learned long ago not to keep anything fragile on there.

The handle nearly tears off the drawer Ian pulls it open with such force. He grabs the bottle of office lube and slams it on the cleared surface.

He stalks back in front of Mickey. Grabs his chin for one quick but all-consuming kiss before turning him around by the shoulder. A rough shove to Mickey’s upper back and he’s bent over the desk. His exposed asshole clenched, waiting. 

“Fuck,” Ian whispers behind him. Raspy. Reverent. Fingertips trail down his spine. “Gorgeous like this. Still can’t believe I get to have this.”

A swift palm to Mickey’s left cheek has him gasping in surprise. He melts further into the desk, surrendering to the sweet, sweet sting on his skin. 

So that’s how this is going to go. Mickey closes his eyes and curls his bottom lip between his teeth. He mentally runs through the possibility of buying up all the neighboring land if this is the reward.

Ian must have lubed up while Mickey was lost in his thoughts because suddenly he’s being filled, Ian crooking his finger into that perfect spot right off the bat. 

“Ah, fuck. Holy fuck,” Mickey moans, burying his face in his arms. 

His back arches into the pressure, his legs already starting to shake. From one finger. Fuck, his husband owns him. 

One finger quickly turns into two, Ian scissoring them open for that achingly good stretch. He folds himself over Mickey’s body, planting soft kisses on the still-warm flesh of Mickey’s slapped cheek, Ian’s lips buzzing against skin when he moans into it.

He’ll never get over the sounds of his husband getting off to Mickey’s pleasure. From Mickey just being. Just submitting. Riles Ian up just as much as having his dick in Mickey’s mouth. 

Then he adds a third finger to the mix. Fucks them into him good and hard while his other hand snakes around to stroke Mickey’s cock, his lips never leaving Mickey’s skin. Never enough to push him over that edge, just enough to keep him teetering right on it.

And then, fuck, then another. A glorious fourth finger that has Mickey drooling over the desk, his mouth hanging open as frankly inhuman sounds escape his lungs. His hips sway on his shaking legs as he adjusts to the sensation. 

Spread. Stretched. Stuffed. 

By his husband.

“Fuck,” Ian purrs and Mickey can feel him stand up behind him. “Take it so good, baby. Doing such a good job for me.”

Even with his eyes closed, Mickey can picture the look on Ian’s face as he stands back and soaks in the view. Half his hand buried in Mickey’s slick ass bent over the table.

Ian twists his fingers inside Mickey’s pulsing hole and they both groan in unison. Mickey’s not sure which one of them is enjoying this more.

“Love it when you let me use this perfect hole of yours,” Ian goes on, his voice sending shivers up Mickey’s spine. “Let me treat you like the queen you are.”

And Mickey’s preening under Ian’s attention, his body opening up to accept whatever Ian wants to give him.

It took him a while to get used to this, to get comfortable with it—Ian showering him in praise and affection—after a lifetime of hurt and neglect. Never learned how to process such positive words. 

But now he loves it. Has learned to relish in it. Sometimes even beg for it. The assurance of how much his husband loves his body, loves him, all of him, soothing like warm tea and honey. 

Ian keeps up his sensuous torment—fucking his fingers into him, spouting words both sweet and filthy into his ear—until Mickey’s legs can barely hold him up any longer.

Finally, Ian takes mercy on him. Reluctantly removes his digits, leaving Mickey empty, his cheeks clenching down hard in search of something, anything, to get that feeling back.

A strong hand wraps around his waist, stands him up, supporting most of his weight, and lowers both of them to the ground, Mickey coming to settle on his sore ass between Ian’s spread legs. Ian’s twitching cock presses against Mickey’s back, smearing wet slickness across his sweaty skin. 

His tongue licks a heavy stripe up Mickey’s neck ending in sharp nibbles to his ear. “So fucking proud of my man,” whispered so soft Mickey’s not entirely sure he didn’t imagine it. But no, he didn’t. Ian’s just like that.

Then Ian’s flipping them, pinning Mickey on his back on the plush carpet—the first and only thing they’ve remodeled in the place. 

Ian straddles him, hovering painfully close but not close enough over Mickey’s thighs. He stares down at him. Pupils blown. Lost to the sight.

Mickey’s body writhes beneath him, hips bucking sky high in an attempt to find something to grind against. Friction or pressure or fucking something before he implodes under Ian’s gaze.

“You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” Ian has the audacity to smirk at him. Like he isn’t torturing the man in the most beautiful of ways.

“Please. Please, Ian,” Mickey begs, his voice hoarse and shaking. Full of desire and lust and need he’s long since stopped trying to hide.

He loves his husband. Loves the way he makes him feel. There’s no shame in that.

Ian smiles. A devious thing. Victory.

Mickey doesn’t even care. 

Then he dips his head, marking his way up Mickey’s body. A trail of both teeth and suction bruising over his stomach, his chest, even the soft underside of his arm, that ultra-sensitive spot Mickey never knew he loved until Ian explored every inch of him. Ian finishes up his warpath across his neck, leaving hickies Mickey knows he won’t be able to hide.

Mickey thinks briefly of the third graders Ian invited to tour the farm tomorrow. “Come on, Mick. We’ll make it educational. Gotta get the next generation interested if we’re gonna save the bees.” Hopefully, the swarm of eight-year-olds will believe the marks are bee stings. A simple workplace hazard.

Someone sure is a hazard around this workplace, alright.

Finally, Ian’s lips make it all the way to Mickey’s. Tongues tangle in search of that familiar taste. 

Ian’s splayed out against him, the full length of their naked bodies pressed against each other. Mickey squirms, rutting his cock against Ian’s, but it’s not enough. He’s still so achingly empty he’s convinced his body will turn to dust if he doesn’t get his ass filled soon.

“Ian. I need— I need—” His brain is too lost to get the right words to his mouth, but Ian understands.

His husband reaches under Mickey’s weakened legs and helps him wrap them around his waist. He lines them up. Mickey’s nails dig into Ian’s back as he braces himself. 

Then, Ian’s pounding into him in one swift motion. He sinks to the hilt on the first thrust, Mickey’s hole already so stretched and ready for him.

Mickey registers the feeling of the scream leaving his chest but can’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. Finally. Filled. Perfectly. By the perfect one.

Ian keeps up the relentless rhythm—good and hard, just the way Mickey likes it—until Mickey’s close. Right back on that edge. He mutters incoherent sounds until Ian gets a hand on his dick and grants him that long-awaited orgasm in three solid strokes.

Fucking ecstasy right here on the office floor. Anywhere Ian is.

Ian drags his come-slick hand up Mickey’s chest, rubbing it into his skin. Mickey hisses, all the sensations too much on the comedown.

Ian slows his thrusts, not ready to separate just yet, but eases up on Mickey’s pleasure-wrecked body.

“God, I fucking love you.” Ian’s eyes lock on Mickey’s, boring through him as he rocks his cock inside his still pulsing hole. “Fucking perfect. No one else I’d want to do this with. All of this.”

And with that, Ian’s face screws up, his eyes slamming shut against his will as he spills inside of him. 

Ian’s arms shudder, his elbows give, and he collapses on top of Mickey’s chest where they stay. It takes a solid minute for the buzzing in Mickey’s ears to fade out. For his vision to clear. The tingling in his fingers and toes to subside.

He swallows. His throat feels raw. Must have been too lost to realize just how loud he’d gotten. One of the perks of being out here in the boonies. Not that neighbors would stop Mickey anyhow. Nothing a shot of homegrown honey won’t soothe.

When they’ve finally recovered, Mickey crawls his way over to the desk and opens the bottom drawer. The one where they keep the financial shit Ian avoids at all costs.

He watches Ian’s face as Mickey pulls out the supplies he’d stashed there days ago when it looked like the deal might actually go through. A picnic blanket. A grocery bag of Pringles and Snickers bars. A couple joints, the good shit from their buddy’s farm. And, even though Mickey thinks it’s disgusting, a bottle of champagne because he knows Ian loves that kind of sappy crap.

Ian’s eyes well up, soft motherfucker, and he smiles.

“For the official celebration,” Mickey says, holding up the bottle.

“You…” Ian trails off, for once at a loss for words.

“Here,” Mickey grabs one last thing from the drawer. A packet of seeds. “Let’s go plant some fucking tomatoes. As many as you want.”

Ian grabs Mickey’s face. Presses their lips together again. But this time they’re soft and slow. An I love you and thank you. 

Sweet as honey.

[geezerwench]

It's my theory, and suspicion, that someone whispered to these Republican dickwads how many white people use IVF to have children. And it ain't poor people paying for IVF. This is what got all these Republicans backpedaling and choking.

"Ethnicity was self-reported. Women who categorized themselves as having a mixed ethnic background were excluded. Caucasians made up the majority of the patients, constituting 91.5% of the patient population. African Americans, Asians, and Hispanics accounted for 4%, 3%, and 1.5% of the population, respectively." X

[the-brainrot-central]

Yeah. Frankly at this point if I pay attention to politics (aka republicans being dickwads and amoral sluts) for longer than 5 seconds at a time I instantly want to commit Gun-Barrel-in-Asshole

The year is 2023. All 8 of the clowns on the Republican debate stage last night wouldn’t admit that climate change is human made.

Like this is still what we’re dealing with?

If I sent that to myself in 2003, I think my brain would melt out of my ears.

[papasmoke]

oh wow lets see here: calling for violence like a wannabe January Sixth-er, being a bernie bro in 2022, trashing dems like it's their fault the republicans are dickwad shitheads, AND encouraging people not to vote?? this whole blog is just red flag after red flag...not a good look, sweetie.

[bottomdeanbigbang]

Coming Soon!

Title: Interesting Revelations

Author: redamber79

Artist: lamiasageart

Pairings: Dean/Cas, mentioned Charlie/Gilda, mentioned Sam/Eileen

Rated: Explicit

Length: 21456

Tags: minor injury, mention of past child abuse, anal sex, misunderstandings, mild drug use, idiots in love, mutual pining, first time, love confessions, college AU

Warnings: N/A

Summary:

"It's Dean's third year of college and he's having to adjust to a new roommate when his friend Ash transfers to MIT. The new guy, Castiel, is studying American History and Religious Studies, and Dean is certain the guy must be straight as an arrow. Too bad, 'cause he's kinda cute. But Dean grew up with more lectures about fire and brimstone than anyone wanted to hear thanks to his dad, so he doesn't mention to Castiel that he's bi. Not like it matters, Castiel is heartbroken over the death of Anna, his high school sweetheart. So Dean is determined to just be a good friend.

But...

What if Dean is mistaken, about so very many things?

It takes a fistfight with an interloper to clear the air between them, but then there's no stopping their feelings for each other."

Excerpt under the cut...

"Dean and Castiel mostly ignored each other the first month or so they were rooming together. Then, one day, Castiel came home muttering and tossed his Religious Studies text onto the coffee table before dropping onto the couch next to Dean. Dean glanced at the clock and frowned, continuing to type. He had an English paper due in a few days and needed to wrap it up.

""Don't you have class?"" he asked curiously, tilting his head at his roommate. Castiel was running his fingers through his already wild hair, and his eyes were stormy. From this close, Dean could see their colour clearly, a brilliant, breathtaking blue that rivalled the fall sky outside their apartment window. Get a grip, Winchester. No writing poetry about the straight guy's eyes!

""I dropped it. That… That assbutt Adler is the worst Prof I've ever had, and first year I had Roman for Business 101!"" Dean blinked. That had to be the first time he'd heard Castiel swear, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Assbutt? He shook his head a little and focused on the topic at hand.

""Don't you need that one to minor? Adler can't be that bad…"" Dean let his comment trail off as Castiel raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a withering look. Dean squirmed a little under that stare.

""I'm reporting him to the Dean. Yes, he’s that bad. He's not teaching Religious Studies, he's proselytising from his pulpit, and that damn textbook is one he wrote! I am not wasting my time. I'm just pissed I can't get my money back from the bookstore for this piece of inarticulate, brain-washed drivel. He's the worst sort of Bible-is-fact, In God We Trust Republican dickwad that I hated back home! I moved here to escape that shit, not smear it around.""

""Says the guy named after an angel…"" Dean teased a little, earning him an eye roll. Castiel dug into his backpack and hauled out a small bag of gummies, the label unmistakably identifying them as pot, then he looked at Dean warily.

""You're not gonna rat me out, right?"" he asked, and Dean stared in disbelief as his nerdy, innocent, apparently not-so-religious roommate popped an edible into his mouth. ""You want one?""

Dean closed his mouth, blinked, and then shook his head. ""Not today, got auto in a couple hours, need to be clear-headed. And you know who I rented with before, he recommended you. You think anyone Ash hung out with and rented with for two years would have a problem with edibles?""

Castiel snorted a laugh, his nose crinkling up adorably, and Dean looked away. Not being a religious whack-job and partaking in a bit of recreational pot were all well and good. Still. Not everyone was cool with a bisexual roommate.

""Fair 'nough. Wish I could get some money back for this damn book, though I'd really rather burn it than put it back into circulation."""

[dankxsinatra]

Fuck Republicans.

Dickwads are the ones responsible for the passage of the DMCA.

I seriously hate both parties. With a passion

[go-our-own-ways]

When I check articles Google has recommended me, I feel the doom and anxiety grow more and more... I'm so scared? Tired? Confused? How on Earth can a group of people be so evil and blind to the plights of the rest of the country? This handful of old white men (and their few but definitely existing women and colored supporters) are destroying humanity. Absolutely destroying it. I find myself unable to believe in goodness and kindness whenever I check the news SIMPLY to stay up to date. These days I'm hardly even well read enough to be considered informed because of how depressed current events makes me feel now, on top of whatever exhaustion and sadness work already brings me. It's scary to me how much more frequent my entire being wonders, "What is the point anymore?"

Of course, I'm still going to vote. But I'm scared. So scared. So scared it won't matter, so scared that these goddamn fucking shithead dickwad excuses of humans who claim to be Republican are trying so desperately to ruin American society, turn it back 50 years, turn it into a people from which they can HARVEST from to line their pockets and curbsides for stepping on... It's sickening. It's so sickening.

I'm sure both parties have their flaws, don't get me wrong. But shit man, the Republican party sure has lost most of their humanity in the last few years. I don't get it. I really don't.

What am I going to have to face just to exist in this country, if everything actually happens? No more right to abortion, no more right to vote?? Open heckling for looking like Chinese since most racist people don't seem aware there's more types of Asians then Chinese folk???

"Well but our city is diverse it's fine" no, no it's not. Go out to the suburbs and you'll see. You'd think those kids have never seen an Asian before.

Also, pause for a moment and think about how everyone stopped showing up for Asian establishments when the pandemic hit. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty worried that the Asian component to this city is dying out because no one seems to care. Everyone thinks we're the model minority and perfect? Well breaking news, we need help too. We don't have infinite money, we don't have all the wisdom of the world, we are not capable of surviving everything on our own. Like fuck man please wake up and smell the roses!!!

[star-gazing-knight]

I would like to Thank:

My mother and her side of the family for being human!barometers and passing that delightful trait to me;

And all the Republicans, Corporations, and dickwads that continue to cause Climate Change, which sets off my sinuses and makes me miserable.

[loxlia]

Okay. No. I can’t let this slide. I wish people would stop pretending it’s all just an isolated incident that was 2016. It is because republicans CONSISTENTLY showed up to vote for YEARS. DECADES. That they built a system that would do this. I saw someone in the notes saying “it’s just a midterm” and so it holds less water or w/e. NO THIS IS THE MINDSET THAT GOT US HERE! Local governments are in charge of drawing voting districts, AND this election is also for members of the Senate. In the FEDERAL government. OH MY GOD. I am BEGGING tumblr leftists to learn how this government works—I know it’s a convoluted shit show, but if you (clearly) have NO ACTUAL CLUE how we got here and how we can get out (voting in every election—yes even the midterms—is part of that) then DONT MAKE POSTS URGING OTHERS NOT TO FUCKING VOTE. I am sick of this defeatist misinformation stg.

And an update:

You really think voting doesn’t matter (especially in primaries and midterms)?? Democratic voters—who had a 60% turnout increase in this years primaries over 2018’s—just VOTED TO KEEP KANSAS’ CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT TO ABORTION. Was it shitty that it was on the primary ballot? Yes. Does this (honestly therefore) assert that it’s CRUCIAL to vote in EVERY ELECTION? ABSOLUTELY. I know y’all hate Biden but massive left voter turnout is why Trump didn’t get a second term AND how Georgia and Nevada turned blue.

Are there other steps we need to take, yes. Grassroots organizing and such. But the ONLY way to change this government’s policies on the filibuster, the way the Supreme Court works, abortion rights and marriage rights as codified laws, ALL OF THAT AND MORE is to vote people in who will LISTEN to their constituents and make change. The checks and balances are great. They kept the last dickwad from turning this country into a complete dictatorship. And are those walls annoying and fucked up now? Yes. But that’s why we need to vote in more dems so there’s less pushback and gridlock on the really important shit. Republicans ARE THE PROBLEM and we have done practically nothing to stem the tide they put in place DECADES AGO.

‘republicans voted to get the government they wanted’ no they literally didnt. they lost the popular vote in 2016 and still got the power to appoint god justices. let’s talk about that

[madtomedgar]

working in disability rights is wierd

so this happened when mccain died and it’s happening now too. in most of my social circles, everyone is remembering the dead person as an architect and perpetrator of extreme evils in the world, and in my work inbox, people who are otherwise very progressive are lauding the person as a champion for rights, specifically because both people were instrumental in getting the ADA passed. 

on the one hand, deeply bad people often do the right things for the wrong reasons, and a large part of my job deals with figuring out how to make that happen. on the other hand, disability rights stubbornly refuses to break along partisan lines, and so you wind up with otherwise pretty good dems doing things like describing nursing homes as the “natural habitat” of pwds and being very willing to fund institutional care but willfully ignorant about community living/independent living, and on the other side you have republicans who love cutting funding for services but think it just makes sense to support pwds living independently and getting jobs to support themselves (as long as they don’t have to pay for it). This does not mean both sides are the same, and frankly, while i can depend on the occasional republican to get it, their general passion for deregulation and funding cuts, even not considering all their other bullshit, makes them too unreliable in anything other than the occasional vote. It’s easier to persuade an ignorant dem than a callous republican, and while dems do some stupid shit wrt disability rights, they don’t, say, generally put much of the community at risk by threatening to get rid of medicaid. 

it’s wierd because these two people, mccain and bush senior, were objectively horrible people who did horrible things on scales i can’t even wrap my head around, and yet my ususally left-leaning coworkers are eulogizing them. It’s wierd because this doesn’t seem to have been similar to nixon and the clean air act, they do seem to have found the one thing they didn’t feel like being dickwads about. It’s wierd because some of these coworkers were activists who worked to get the ADA passed, and should know that it was down to their work, not an evil man deciding not to be evil about one (1) thing. And part of me wants to sneer at that, but I also lived my entire life with the ADA, and will never be able to even imagine what it means to someone who was placed in a nursing home in their teens because of a spinal cord injury and had to fight for years to get out.

It’s also part of the general wierdness that disability rights as a movement tends to skew more conservative than every other rights movement.

I have no grand conclusions to draw from this. It’s just a somewhat surreal experience.

[simmonsized]

some fucked up republican dickwad proposed raising the retirement age to 72 which is just???? Cruel??? On so many levels. My mom isn't even sixty and she gets aches and pains worthy of disability, and I work with older women who are so worn down but aren't even ALLOWED to retire because of the age bar

It's horrible and honestly to live in a world where people who make millions and billions of dollars get tax breaks but we won't even pay for our sick or elderly??? Disgusting