#trump paper towel

[steve-pift]

[zelkiff]

“pray for trump 😭” he need a paper towel and a bandaid and he’s fine. like come on.

[sepdet]

[9.11.24] Seth Meyers summarizes Trump's presidency and everything he's done since in an incredible 60 second monologue.

Transcript below.

This monologue is from the end of Late Night with Seth Meyers on 9/11, the day after the Hartus-Trump debate. As Seth Meyers speaks at his desk, an inset video slideshow on the left shows images to match his words, either newspaper headlines or photos or short video clips.

Seth begins:

Donald Trump's entire argument, aside from weird lies about eating dogs and windmills and Hannibal Lecter, boils down to one thing. When he left office, things were awesome.

[Screen changes temporarily to clip of the debate with Trump speaking]: I created one of the greatest economies in the history of our country. We did a phenomenal job with the pandemic. We handed them over a country where the economy and where the stock market was higher than it was before the pandemic came in. Nobody's ever seen anything like it. [End of clip]

Back to Seth:

Ah, yes, I remember the halcyon days of 2020, when the economy was soaring and toilet paper was plentiful, and we weren't all wiping our mail down with Clorox, and filming our TV shows at home without our hair and makeup teams leaving us all looking like ghosts haunting a Dickensian orphanage. [ British accent] "Please help me! I've been trapped here ever since I died from eating spoiled gruel!"

[ Normal voice ] I can't believe I have to remind some people of this, but Donald Trump's presidency did not end well. Just in case you need it, here's a quick refresher. This shouldn't take too long.

Seth: Donald Trump was the first president since Herbert Hoover to oversee a net job loss. Unemployment soared, and the economy shrank by more than 3%. Corporate profits went up while manufacturing jobs declined. Home prices soared by nearly 30%. The national debt rose by nearly $8 trillion. Crime spiked. The number of Americans without health insurance rose by 3 million, and the number of presidents who have humped American flags went from 0 to 1.

He undercut the nation's response to a deadly pandemic that spiraled out of control because he ignored warnings about it, lied about its severity, disbanded agencies that were tasked with preparing for it, promoted sham treatments for it, said we could stop it by injecting disinfectant, and promoted a quack doctor who believes demon sperm is real, insulted servicemembers and feuded with Gold Star families, saluted a North Korean general, got reprimanded by the Army for desecrating Arlington National Cemetery in violation of federal law, and made the Queen of England disappear.

Said he had the best memory in the world, then forgot he said he had the best memory in the world, got laughed at by the United Nations, including the Germans, got impeached for threatening to withhold military aid from Ukraine, and encouraged Russia to interfere in our elections.

He doctored a weather map with a Sharpie to lie about the path of a hurricane, threw paper towels at hurricane victims, called Hannibal Lecter his wonderful man. A chief of staff called him an idiot. His national security adviser called him a dope. A secretary of state called him a moron. He got on a plane with toilet paper stuck to his shoe and didn't know how to close an umbrella.

He took millions from foreign officials, including a possible $10 million bribe from Egypt, brushed dandruff off the shoulder of the president of France. He staged a months-long coup attempt, stoked a violent insurrection, tried to coerce

Republican officials, into overturning the election, claim dead people were voting and Democrats were selling mail ballots, got impeached a second time.

He brought a crazy pillow salesman to the White House, and his lawyer gave a press conference at a landscaping company.

He lost the popular vote twice, got indicted four times, convicted of 34 felony counts, falsified business records to pay hush money to a porn star who said she spanked him in the ass with "Forbes" magazine. He was found guilty of fraud and libel and sexual abuse, possibly farted and definitely fell asleep in court.

Bragged about overturning Roe v. Wade, said he was against a Florida abortion ban, then said he was for the Florida abortion bill. Called the CEO of Apple Tim Apple, called Elon Musk "Leon Musk," said Nikki Haley was the Speaker of the House on January 6th, claimed the price of bacon goes up because the windmills blow, shark attacks are caused by electric boat batteries, again said Hannibal Lecter was dead and real, wonderful, even though he's fake and famously a bad guy, insists he's not weird by saying the word "weird" 11 times in 30 seconds, which is, let's admit it, super weird.

Became the first president -- [photo at this point shows Trump staring straight at the sun without eclipse glasses before the 2017 eclipse]

And, guys, we ran out of time, but there were a bunch more things.

[brostateexam]

Look inside your shopping cart to spot the impact of the world's ebbs and flows: It's in the wood pulp in your paper towels, the petroleum in your frozen meal container, the fruits and veggies that survived floods or droughts.

So, a shopping basket at a Walmart in Georgia offers a view into the U.S. economy — and the inflation that has roiled it. It's a bit painful if you're shopping for aluminum foil or eggs. But not so bad if you want cabbage or Wonder bread. And you may even find a relative bargain on shrimp.

In NPR's shopping cart of several dozen items, prices went up 23% on average since mid-2019. That's when NPR last visited this Walmart, in Liberty County just south of Savannah. At the time, we traced how the Trump administration's trade war with China was affecting prices.

[meret118]

As governor of Minnesota, one of Tim Walz's accomplishments was signing a 2023 education law that included a mandate for schools to provide free menstrual supplies to students in grades 4 through 12. [The law doesn't specify gender. It just says all students.]

. . .

"As a woman there is no greater threat to a woman's health than leaders ... who support putting tampons in men's bathrooms in public schools," Trump campaign spokeswoman Karoline Leavitt told Fox News on Tuesday.

. . .

About one in four teenagers who menstruate struggle to pay for period products, according to a 2023 study from the advocacy group Period.

. . .

One 2019 study of low-income women in St. Louis, Missouri, found that two-thirds weren't able to afford pads or tampons in the prior year, with many resorting instead to rags, tissues or paper towels. About half said they couldn't afford to buy both food and menstrual products.

People who can't afford pads or tampons "have reported missing school or work because they don't have these supplies," Gero said. "It leads to missed opportunities, and it is linked to feelings of embarrassment and depression."

[eaudrey35]

Nicky Jam Deletes Trump Endorsement After Awkward Rally Appearance

Nicky Jam as a Puerto Rican u should be ashamed of urself endorsing someone who treats the Puerto Rico like crap. I guess u forgot how he threw paper towels at the ppl r Puerto Rico after the Hurricane hit and didn't give them the aide they were suppose to send them. Yet only reason u delete his endorsement cause he got ur gender wrong. What is it Abt Trump that many different Spanish nationalities like.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Michael Serazio at Vox:

For most of advertising history, “red” or “blue” as partisan loyalty signaled more your taste for Coke or Pepsi than your identity as Republican or Democrat. Mass markets, by definition, necessitated selling to both sides of the aisle. As with so much else, the presidency of Donald Trump — built upon a self-conceived human brand — radically upended those norms. Post-2016 election, one Adweek column thundered, “Brands cannot expect to play Switzerland as the rest of the world picks a side.” Consumer culture suddenly became the vehicle for political expression, with Madison Avenue giving voice to countless causes. The staid “corporate social responsibility” morphed into the more muscular “brand purpose,” which beget impassioned activism. Social justice became “trendy;” politics, the means to signal commercial “integrity.”

Today, just as during the Trump presidency, controversial issues abound, protesters convulse public spaces, and a divisive election looms. The world is picking sides — on abortion and Gaza and Trump’s trials. And from brand-land? By and large, the sound of silence. That’s because, despite prior pretense, advertising follows, not leads; it needs markets, not morality. That silence, therefore, says much about our sociopolitical moment: As culture warriors find themselves on the defensive, brands, wary from the backlash against Bud Light’s use of a trans influencer, no longer show interest in advancing their causes. Indeed, today’s primary “cause” — and, arguably, election issue — is lower on the hierarchy of needs: cost of living. That makes for a more practical, less symbolic battleground for commercial content. In 2024, whatever else might happen, the revolution will not be advertised.

During the Trump years, advertising evolved a bit like journalism: It went from ostensible objectivity and pitching its product across allegiances to satisfying partisan preferences and selling to niches. As society polarized and fragmented and everything got politicized — the NFL, safety pins, low-flow toilets — neutrality came across as craven delusion.

This fundamentally shifted the logic and basis of consumer choice. Previously, we thought, “If I’m going to buy paper towels, are they useful? Are they inexpensive?” one marketing executive explained to me. By 2020, “societal issues [had] become brand attributes ... in terms of product purchases.” The question became: How “woke” are your paper towels? If the ads of the 2010s felt like they were talking back to Trump, you're not mistaken. Like other domains of cultural production — journalism, the popular arts, academia — brand-land leans left. For many such news topics invoked commercially — race, guns, the environment — creative professionals couldn’t conceive of there being “two sides” to the story.

[...] Brand-land was arguably taking its cues from market demand: One poll found nearly three-quarters of consumers wanted retail companies to stand up for their political beliefs and another found two-thirds would switch from a brand if those didn’t align with their own. At times, those consumers themselves took the initiative on activism. Much like today’s protesters clamoring for Israel divestment, a #GrabYourWallet boycott of Trump-aligned products and companies went viral. The personal has, of course, long been political, but during the 45th presidency, the civic became commercial as never before. Then, just as quickly as it had stormed the barricades, Madison Avenue abandoned them.

[...] Again, commercial communication follows, not leads. Advertising’s activist retreat mirrors a reversal in public sentiment, perhaps a post-pandemic fatigue. One poll finds just 20 percent of Americans are now interested in corporations taking a stand on political issues or current events, and fewer than 30 percent want to hear brands opine on international conflict. Curiously, among the least supported issues (for brand engagement, at least) are many that defined the commercial battlegrounds of the Trump years: police reform, immigration, LGBTQ+ rights, and abortion.

[...]

Perhaps there’s another type of issue that’s more pressing to Americans right now, one that retail companies can uniquely speak to because, historically, that was their primary messaging domain: How much are we paying and for what? After all, rising prices are arguably the defining political issue of the Biden era. That doesn’t allow for sexy, flashy branding — or even the moral, culture war invocations of the Trump years — but it’s top of mind when you have to pay 15 bucks for a sandwich or salad at lunch. In turn, that assumed attentiveness to price and utility treats the consumer as pragmatic rather than performative: someone concerned for what a product costs and does rather than how it might reflect their sociopolitical identity. It also suggests that virtue-signal shopping is a luxury less affordable during inflationary times. Unstated by Pritchard but surely informing his caution is Bud Light’s reported billion-dollar sales slide, attributed to a transphobic boycott following a fleeting partnership with social media star Dylan Mulvaney in early 2023. When that backlash exploded, Anheuser-Busch’s CEO defensively walked back any pretense of activism: “We never intended to be part of a discussion that divides people."

There had, of course, been brand politics flops before. Starbucks nudged customers and baristas to, awkwardly, “Race Together” by striking up conversations about police-exonerated killings of Black men. Pepsi similarly pissed off the entire internet with its quasi-Black Lives Matter spot attaching the soda, visually and conceptually, to street protests in a way that’s unimaginable now, given the campus unrest of recent months. The Bud Light kerfuffle, though, had more of a financial and cultural impact on the brand because it represented a real mismatch of target audience and their perceived politics. Starbucks and Pepsi fans likely didn’t find anti-racist causes wrong, just the messaging heavy-handed and poorly executed.  And post-Mulvaney, the influencer marketplace — an estimated $20 billion-plus industry — is increasingly scrutinized for risky content that might alienate one side or the other.

[...] Under Trump, brands had appointed themselves vessels for progress, most especially on matters of cultural identity like race, sex, and immigration. In the years since, corporations have backpedaled to more of that “Switzerland” neutrality, reflecting a broader retreat from DEI ambitions across both law and norms.

A trend that was dominant in the late 2010s and early 2020s, the “woke” capital movement that many brands had in their ace has begun to fall apart, owing to the ongoing inflation issue and the backlash over Dylan Mulvaney being in a single Bud Light ad.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #133

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

“Alright candidates, your next challenge is an oldie but a goodie. The situation is this: ‘West Dakota’ has seceded from the Union and you must find some way to bring them back. President Trump, your handicaps from the previous rounds are still in effect.”

Trump stood at his podium wearing a kennel cone on his neck, his left hand tied behind his back. “This is an unbelievable humiliation, folks.”

“And the same is true for you, too, President Biden.”

Joe had a very long dowel attached to a hard hat strapped to his head, precariously balanced on top of which was a bowl of Corn Pops - with milk. “I can take it, Jack. Bring on the fire.”

The host, whose name was not ‘Jack’, but rather Alton Brown, clapped his hands. “Your time starts… now!”

Trump limped to his replica of the Oval Office, trying not to think about the rock in his shoe, and sat at the desk. He immediately picked up the phone. “Get me the governor of West Dakota!”

Biden sat at his own replica - slowly so as not to spill the cereal - and hit the intercom button. “Jill, can you send in my diplomatic advisors?”

“What do you mean he’s not picking up?” Trump fumed. “No, no, that’s an excuse! You’re fired!”

Biden and his advisors discussed options quietly. As a reflex, he nodded at what one of them said, which of course spilled milk on the desk. As per the rules, he had to clean it up before continuing, so Kamala brought him a roll of paper towels.

“Hand it to the other guy then! What do you mean there is no other guy?” Trump looked over at Biden’s Oval Office and saw that they were making progress. He growled and got up from his chair, stumbling around looking for something. “Aha! Take that, Sleepy Joe! I found a sabotage chip!”

Alton addressed the camera. “I will take this opportunity to remind the American people that a sabotage chip can be redeemed for a surprise inconvenience to inflict on his opponent.”

“Host man! Host man! Mr. host man!” Trump waved the chip around in the air. “I want Joe to have to do a crossword puzzle!”

Alton took the chip from Trump’s greasy hand. “Pleasure making a deal with you, sir. President Biden, before you continue, you must complete today’s New York Times crossword.”

A production assistant placed the newspaper and a pencil in front of the octogenarian.

“Oh, hell. I can barely read this…”

“Ha! Take that, grandpa!” Trump said moments before throwing out his back and yelping as he fell to the floor.

Biden put on his reading glasses. “What in God’s name is a six letter word for tomato?”

Alton made an aside to the audience as he washed his hands. “This is actually not the New York Times crossword, but rather a prank puzzle cooked up by our writers. Some questions are so easy, they’re hard not to overthink.”

Trump crawled back into his chair and picked the phone back up. “I want to talk to my war guys. The war guys! You know what I mean! They’re genius at war - those guys! Almost as smart as me. Get them on the phone!”

Biden chewed on the eraser end of his pencil as he looked over all the clues. His head tilted forward a bit and the bowl spilled more milk.

Trump pulled a sheet of paper from his desk and began reading the numbers from it to the person at the other end of the phone. “I’m in charge so don’t argue with me, okay? Okay. What? I can’t hear so good from this ear after a few weeks ago…”

“Candidates, you have two minutes remaining on the clock.”

Trump smirked and leaned back in his chair. “I’m done!”

Alton looked at him, puzzled. “But you haven’t even talked to the governor yet.”

“I think he’ll get the message.”

An emergency alert siren played over the studio intercom. “This is not a test. Nuclear arms have been deployed against territory of the United States.”

“What?!?” Alton shook the PA. “Is that real?!?”

“I don’t think that’s one of our recordings…”

“How was he able to do that? He’s not even President right now!”

Trump wore a shit-eating grin. “I’m just that good, Mr. host man.”

Biden was deep in thought. “Tomato… tomato…”

Alton thought of how he might never see his family again. A deep wave of sadness, anger, and confusion crashed over him, eroding everything away but his TV persona. He turned to the camera.

“This has been the first ever - and I suppose, last ever - Cutthroat Debate Stage. Thank you for tuning in. So long, America.”

The feed went black.

Thanks to @charlesoberonn for the, uh, "prompt," and shout-out to @wilty-lettuce-brain for encouraging me.

[thezfc]

"Taylor Swift fan dies before Brazil concert amid sweltering conditions. Pop star ‘devastated’ by death of woman, named in media as Ana Clara Benevides, 23, who reportedly fainted and had cardiac arrest." Peple are dying now because of her..Jesus

OK I know this isn’t a exaggeration to be funny but apparently this girl had some kind of underlying heart issue she was unaware of that was exacerbated by heat. It’s not like because they weren’t given or able to bring in water, that everyone was gonna die lol.

Then there were videos of her, not unlike Trump in Puerto Rico with the paper towels, literally heaving tiny bottles of water at people in the pit as if that would fix everything? 

Also there was talk that they closed all of the windows and vents in the stadium so that no one could see or hear the show without paying to get in and that made it hotter. Did she request that or was that done without her knowledge? Is anything related to her done without her knowledge? I’m voting no. 

[pippytmi]

Wildmoore Week 2023 Day 4: Nightclub/ “You think the dj/band takes requests?” / (+ a soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate ever says is on each other’s wrists)

/////

There is nothing, Ryan decides, quite as bleak as a public restroom in a nightclub.

The floor is wet with remnants of rainwater from outside, the bass is bumping so loud the walls shake with it, and someone is humming entirely off-beat in one of the stalls in a manner that is distinctively—wait.

“Mary? Are you…good?”  

“Uh-huh,” Mary sing-songs from wherever she's at. “This is so fun, Ryan. Isn't it so fun?”

Ryan finishes washing her hands, but there's no paper towels left in the dispenser and she has to shake her hands out over the sink in a futile attempt to dry them. “Yeah,” she agrees haltingly. “So fun.” On the mirror, someone has taken a Sharpie to the glass to write their Instagram handle, and it shows up on Ryan’s forehead like a taunt. 

Honestly, she had expected something more…fancy for tonight's festivities, not this club-bordering-on-dive-bar that Kate Kane has selected. But this is Mary's favorite sister and maid of honor they're talking about, so Ryan will wisely keep all such thoughts to herself tonight.

(Even the fact that this is the strangest turnout for a bachelorette party she's ever seen).

Mary comes stumbling (read: banging) out of her stall. “We should do shots,” she gasps, as if this is an epiphany she's just had and not a repeat of the very first sentence she'd uttered when they arrived.

“Sure,” Ryan agrees, and waits patiently as Mary joins her at the sinks.

“And we'll save one for Sophie.”

Sophie Moore is the only elusive bridesmaid that Ryan has yet to meet. Not the last to arrive, though; Kate hasn't even deigned to show up yet. Only Alice—Mary's other sister—is waiting for them back at the bar. Truth be told, Ryan isn’t quite sure what to make of her. Alice always makes snide comments about Ryan's clothes and always, always seems to undercut Mary's fun with snark, but Mary tends to excuse it. She likes to fall back on the fact that Alice has become somewhat of a bitter person since her soulmate died; Ryan might not understand since she's never met her own soulmate, but she's pretty much of the ideology that nothing excuses being an asshole.

Kate Kane not showing up to her sister’s bachelorette despite picking the location trumps all of that tonight, though. Mary hasn't said anything about it, but Ryan has already decided she'll glare at Kate all night to make up for it.

“So who is Sophie, again?” Ryan remembers to ask as they squeeze out past the bathroom line and back into the deafening bass of the club.

“My dad’s favorite child,” Mary has to half-shout. “He was seriously devastated when she and Kate broke up.”

“Wait. One of your bridesmaids…is your sister’s ex?” Ryan says, bewildered. “Isn’t that—I don't know. Kind of awkward for them?”

“Aw, no, we love Sophie. And she and Kate are cool! Trust me, you'll love her.”

The topic of Sophie is quickly forgotten by the time they rejoin Alice at the bar for another round of tequila shots. Three shots in, Ryan is finally feeling a warm buzz, and she's loose enough to allow Mary to drag her into the crowd to dance. (Alice is there too, but she can ignore that.) She can even ignore the music, which has been a strange mix of either 90’s hip-hop or weird 70’s disco. 

“You think the DJ takes requests?” Ryan turns to yell at Mary, but she ends up shouting this at a complete stranger behind her instead—a very pretty complete stranger, whose brown eyes grow impossibly wide as she catches the question.

“Oh my God, Sophie!” Mary is suddenly catching said stranger into a frantic, tipsy hug. “Ryan, this is—oh my God this is my song! Alice! This is my song!”

Ryan fondly watches Mary drag Alice into an one-sided hug, swaying them back and forth to “Stayin’ Alive,” and knows in an instant that anyone sober will absolutely not survive tonight; she takes pity on Sophie Moore and leans in to close enough to say,

“Hey, I’ll go get you a drink!”

She carefully extracts herself from the throngs of sweaty dancers, all too grateful to escape, and nabs a seat at the somewhat-quieter bar. The bartender is high in demand tonight, but he still makes time to toss over his shoulder, 

“What can I get you?”

“Two shots of Patron,” Ryan says, fishing for a twenty from her wallet. The one perk of this place is cheap enough drinks that otherwise would have cost her twice the amount. 

He nods at her, harried, and Ryan leans her arm against the sticky wood to wait. She casts a curious glance back to where Mary might be, but is surprised when she sees Sophie instead, walking over with a strange look on her face.

Ryan tilts her head questioningly, but is not kept in suspense long; Sophie comes to a resolute stop before Ryan, wringing her hands together, before she speaks. 

“This,” Sophie says, “is officially the weirdest night of my life.”

Well Ryan can officially second that thought, because those words might as well have been imprinted in her mind. That is her soulmark. That means Sophie Moore, the fabled ex of Mary’s sister, is her soulmate.

“Wait,” Ryan says, “are you—?” She is holding out her arm in a second, and Sophie is matching her pose. Sure enough, there are the words you think the DJ takes requests right on Sophie’s wrist. “Well shit.”

For a moment, all they can seem to do is stare at each other. Sophie is, impossibly, even prettier up close. Perfect eyebrows, heart-shaped face, parted lips in open surprise; she is simultaneously everything and yet nothing like Ryan anticipated.

“I was not expecting this,” Sophie says, her brow crinkling in distress. “Fuck, I almost didn’t show up today. It’s a goddamn miracle I even—” She pauses. “I didn’t get your name.”

Ryan would laugh, if she weren’t equally as shell-shocked. “Ryan,” she says. “I’d ask how you know the bride, but…”

Sophie winces. “Right,” she mumbles. “You can imagine why I wasn’t crazy about showing up.”

“Oh you’re good, Kate never even came,” Ryan says unthinkingly, and immediately wonders if she’s said something wrong by the way Sophie eyes her strangely.

“She’s…actually the DJ,” Sophie informs her. “She plays the last Saturday of every month here.”

“Damn,” Ryan blinks, “and here I thought she was just a flake.” She is slightly relieved to know Kate did not abandon Mary, but still: “Hold on, did she seriously throw a bachelorette party for her sister at her job? That’s kind of…”

“Shitty?” Sophie finishes knowingly, and this time, Ryan does laugh. Thankfully Sophie does too, a kind of sheepish, shared understanding of the situation.

“Well, Mary’s having fun at least,” Ryan says. “And Alice hasn’t murdered anyone, which must be a new personal record, or something.” A flash of movement to her right momentarily distracts her—the bartender has finally had a chance to pour the shots, and Ryan hands them off to Sophie. “Here. I think you need both of these.”

Sophie’s expression twists, ever-so-slightly, into trepidation. “Thanks,” she says, slowly easing into the first, and then grimacing and shooting back the second once the first seems to hit. “God, I haven’t had tequila in forever. That’s vile.”

“Really? I even sprang for the good stuff,” Ryan says, shifting over so Sophie can join her in leaning against the bar.

“I’m more of a vodka girl, I guess,” Sophie sighs, and takes the unspoken invitation to move closer.

There is something thrilling about it, to have a soulmate. Ryan knows, logistically, that she has always had one. But meeting her—seeing her—is something different, and Ryan is inexplicably on the edge of her seat. Her stomach is somersaulting, her heart is hammering, as if the mere proximity of Sophie Moore is a drug.

“This is weird,” Ryan feels the need to announce. Or at least, her mouth certainly seems to think so, already one step ahead of her head. “Does it feel weird to you?”

“I think,” Sophie says slowly, “if it didn’t feel weird, then that would be even weirder. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” Ryan says. Her arm is brushing against Sophie’s ever so often, and Ryan feels herself itching to close the distance altogether. “Everyone used to make fun of my soulmark, you know. They’d say I was going to be the worst date.”

“That couldn’t have been worse than being told ‘maybe you’ll meet your soulmate today’ at every single event where there was a DJ,” Sophie muses. “That was only, oh…every single party in existence.” 

Ryan pauses to consider this. “Okay, you win.”

Sophie smiles with the corner of her mouth, and she gazes at Ryan from under those long, pretty eyelashes, and yeah—Ryan’s a goner. Shit. This really could not be the worst time to meet her soulmate. She always imagined something more romantic, like standing in the rain while meeting eyes. Or bumping into each other in a nice restaurant, hands brushing against each other in a lucky accident. Or, really, anywhere that does not have drunkards screaming along to YMCA while the scent of spilled rum lingers in the air.

“Should we go find Mary?” Sophie asks. “She’s probably going to be looking for us.”

“Maybe, yeah,” Ryan is reluctant to agree. But when Sophie takes a solitary, expectant step, all Ryan knows in that instant is she doesn’t want to go back. “Unless…we could get out of here. Walk around, get some tacos until they’re done here.”

Sophie’s smile melts into something gentler. Something curious. “Kind of like a date?” she prompts.

“It…could be.”

There’s a split second where Sophie sways right into her again, so close their faces almost touch when she leans down. Her breath is warm against Ryan’s ear when she whispers apologetically, “I think we might be even shittier friends than Kate if we ditch Mary.”

“Right. No, that makes sense,” Ryan is loathe to admit. “Especially if we leave her with Alice.”

“Exactly.” From the way Sophie suddenly frowns, it’s clear she must be remembering her own sour encounter with Alice. “But, um, if you’re not doing anything next weekend, my friend is kind of getting married…maybe you’d like to be my plus one?” There’s a hint of shyness in the way she shifts back, in the way her gaze darts anxiously over Ryan’s face, and Ryan’s lungs burn with her ensuing rush of relief.

Hell, Ryan even manages a joke of her own, just about ready to bite through her bottom lip in an effort to keep a grin at bay. “You know,” she says, “I think I can manage that. We might even be going to the same place now that I think about it…”

“Wow,” Sophie plays along, her gaze soft and undeniably hopeful, as they melt back into the crowd together. “Talk about a coincidence.”

Or fate, Ryan thinks, but the words go unsaid; they settle instead in their linked hands, in the shared glances they exchange the rest of the night, in the way neither is willing to say goodbye when 2 A.M. rolls around.

(The promise, however…that remains).

[icedmetaltea]

Health anxiety: something is wrong Me: no dude lol you're being dramatic everything is fine Body: randomly develops a nut allergy (?) Body: blood pressure consistently 130-150/80-110 at night for some reason Body: suddenly can't tolerate yogurt- including lactose free Body: Mysteriously loses 1-2 lbs per week when not on diet past month Body: constant anxiety even when not pmsing Health anxiety: come on man Me: EVERYTHING IS FINE EVERYTHING IS FINE EVERYTHING IS FINE WE'RE DEFINITELY NOT GETTING CANCER OR HEART DISEASE OR ANYTHING AHAHAHAHAHAHA

(incoherent venty stuff below, tw for suicidal thoughts and just... idk weird psychosis type stuff ig)

I can't even go to the doctor cause agoraphobia and like... even then they just blame everything on anxiety. Even when my BP is this erratic, anywhere from 110/60-156/110, and I can't make a telehealth appointment for some goddamned reason that they won't explain

And I don't know if they'll sign that form so I can get ebt and ya know not starve (I sent it via email but I got said email from a static-filled call so I don't even know if it's the right address or if they'll do it digitally)

And from the sounds of things they won't make me a note to file for a tuition appeal so I'll be saddled with a $700 fine that'll go to collections if I can't pay it by december WHEN I HAVE $600 IN MY BANK and I need it to pay for basic living essentials till I can get approved for SSI IF I even can which will take at LEAST 6 months

and everything adds up, toothepaste, paper towels, laundry soap, dish soap, sponges, trashbags, pads... the list goes on and it adds up so fast

And nobody aside from the therapist has shown any goddamned empathy for me when I've made calls, it reaaaally feels like the doctors and nurses just hope I kill myself, cause it'd be easier for them, cause I'm a burden, cause it's easier for me to die than for them to make me a telehealth appointment or sign a goddamned 1-paper form so I can fucking feed myself and not be saddled with debt

it'd be so much easier for everyone

I've been thinking about blowing my brains out all day. it used to be just when I was pmsing but it's been pretty much all month when my imaginary friend isn't distracting me with stupid shit and/or age regressing to cope

I just think, sure the gun would be expensive but then I wouldn't have to worry about money anymore, or panic attacks, or being a financial burden to my mom, or being a disappointment, or PMDD, or sleeping till 4pm when the depression gets bad, or anything

Nothing at all. Just blackness. Or maybe there's something after death, idk. Maybe I'm going to heaven or hell, but either way hopefully things just... are different there. No more capitalism. No more mental health shit. No more jobs and school and people working just to work and then die, no more of your worth getting judged by how smart you are or how valuable you are as a wage slave

No more heart pounding, no more gasping for air for the 20th time as I try to sleep, no more walking around in dreams where I feel like a ghost (and yet I look forward to it bc at least it's... different. It's somewhere than isn't here) no more waking up disappointed that I even woke up

No more thinking about how my parents are gonna die someday and then I'll really be alone

No more thinking about how my sibling left me

No more thinking about how my best friend left me

No more anything

I don't expect to make it to the end of this year. I don't know when I'll do it but it's kinda a given. I should've just let myself freeze to death back in December like I'd originally planned. At least I could die to something I loved. Why'd I bother sticking around? What have I gained? I'm just living to live

What, to finish all those books? I have hundreds, I'll never finish them all

To finish that game? I'll never finish that either

To get on SSI? I probably won't even be approved before trump takes power (be honest with yourself, you know he will. A war's coming and it ain't lookin good for people like us. He wants people like us dead)

It's so dark and lonely tonight. I have a billion thoughts in my head and it's supposed to be better now bc it's not my luteal or follicular phase... I can't even have the one good week I'm supposed to have PMDD-wise

I just can't stop thinking about how much better everything would be without me. And idk I feel kinda in a way like said imaginary friend is like... idk shutting down my body somehow. Cause even they know it's for the best. I know that's just psychosis brain talking cause they're not real but at times like these I wonder

But man, I wish if that was the case they'd make it quick and painless. A gun would be easier, just saying. Oh but it'd be too loud, make too much of a mess, blah blah blah... it's quick and effective. Sure it might not work and turn me into a vegetable. Prolly wouldn't though. It works more often than hanging/blood loss/jumping. I know they don't want me gone but even they have to admit it's about time. They've known it for a long time. I should've frozen to death. It would've been quick in 0 degree weather. We could've listened to music. Mom and dad wouldn't have found us till morning.

But no. Just had to chicken out

Ugh

[loki-the-mad]

I’ve just realized that I can post this here, so here, have the list of quotes my history teach has said in the past two months

1. You don’t have to know them, you just have to know Christianity can’t agree on what Christianity is. (About christian denominations)

2. They’re all trying to kill each other *dramatic sigh* (About Christian denominations fighting each other in Germany)

3. I don’t know if you know anything about mercury. It’s serious dain bramage. (About Spanish forcing natives to mine for silver using mercury)

4. Me: a revolt paints the revolutionaries as bad guys and a rebellion paints the revolutionaries as good guys?

Him: Ooh I like that. You’re wrong, but I like the way you’re looking at that. You’re using context

5. Iran was fighting Iraq. Oh sorry, you’re from South Carolina. *thick southern accent* Eye-ran was fighting eye-rack. (Talking about how America would rather arm other forces than join the fight itself)

6. Him: What’s the difference between peasants and peons and serfs and indentured servants and slaves?

Me: Nothing!

Him: Great, moving on!

7. Trump drained the swamp! But he didn’t drain the marshland! (About how all the first english colonies were at estuaries and they sucked)

8. These are the wetlands. I like that, it sounds like they have a bladder problem.

9. Him: What’d you do in the congaree swamp?

My classmate: I stole a pig!

10. Better to die here with freedom on your lips than in England with *voice goes quiet* …freedom? (Talking about how everyone sent to America was basically sent to die)

11. Alright toodles *hangs up phone*

12. Where’s my keys? Oh yeah, I had to freshen up the ROACH (After having to unlock his cabinet to get the Lysol to try to spray a roach in the corner of the room)

13. You all sound like a chorus. They died. (After the whole class said ‘they died’ at the same time)

14. In the great. Swamp. Fight.

15. What’s the source of all knowledge? That’s right, the bibble. (Explaining why the period for indentured servitude was 7 years)

16. It’s B.S! Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Bullshit. (About the government)

17. Why the hell would they be called the 49ers? Sorry, why the heck. I hate when I cuss in class. Shit. (Talking about the gold rush of 1849)

18. What happens when you add fire to a fire? Sorry, that was stupid. (Talking about the myth of the Yankees lighting everything on fire as they went)

19. They didn’t love her, they just wanted to make more farmers. She was a ~vessel~ (Talking about bartered brides running to Philadelphia)

20. Cause everyone was just making……..stuff up. *Quieter* Cause you can’t say shit in class.

21. Can you tell I’ve had three hours of sleep?

22. Who put men in charge? Hm, let me think. I know! Men. (Talking about Enlightenment and the pushback against the patriarchy)

23. That was their motivation! Freedom! (Giggles)(Covers his mouth with paper) Sorry. (Talking about people taking land from the natives/the revolutionary war)

24. You can’t start a country with 40,000 people, people. You gotta have more people, people. (Talking about how underpopulated America was until the 1750s)

25. The scots—Oh. The scots! (Remembering the scots were, in fact, in America)(And definitely didn’t want to be)

26. Him: Native Americans, this is your land. British colonists, this is your land. Stay out of each other’s way!

Me: That’ll work

Him: Shhhhhhh

(Talking about the Proclamation Treaty)

27. Lowering the duty. Hehe. I get to say doodie in class (Talking about the various import taxes that ‘started’ the American Revolution)

28. TARIFFS! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! (Explaining economics, in a history class)

29. Most terrorists don’t go around saying “hello, I’m Fred, I’ll be your terrorists today.” Usually they do it by surprise, which isn’t very nice. (Talking about what classified the American revolutionaries as “terrorists”)

30. Is there anything you don’t know?!?!? (Throws a paper towel at me)

31. Me: walks into class

Him: *mock salutes* colonel

32. Tommy Paine! Tommy Paine was a teacher so, y’know, he had no job (About Thomas Paine writing Common Sense

33. So the guy who promised to give them fur? You ready for this? He deferred. (About Ben Franklin promising to give the French the fur trade back if they supported the Americans)

[impishcupid]

you guys know Trump would also be bad right? Like listen Biden sucks but. You shouldn’t 180 to voting for Trump. Like i cannot stress enough for those without post literacy that i’m not a biden bootlicker or supporter and also hate everything he’s doing right now, but we also can’t ignore everything Trump did and took from us. He dropped paper towels on Puerto Rico as response to PR being absolutely decimated by flooding. We should be unionizing for a third candidate

[stylinskies]

I.

Wind’s in the east, mist comin’ in….

This wasn’t going to take him down. Stiles stared at the piece of paper on his desk until his vision went blurry. He knew the answer, but it was just brushing against the fingertips of his sleep deprived memory. What gets wetter as it dries. “A towel!” He yelled in triumph, the few members of his department still there turning to glance at him as Frank rolled his eyes at his partner. 

“No way man, a towel?” He scoffed, grabbing the paper from Stiles and the page a day calendar that it came from to check the answer. It was a Secret Santa gift from the head of Finance to Frank, who forgot to fill out the form so he got what was left at the gifts under $10 table at Barnes and Noble the day before the gift exchange. Frank had decided to make it a daily challenge for himself to solve the riddle before lunch. But for some reason, this one in particular was stumping him for the past three days. Instead of asking for help, he refused to change the day on the calendar until he solved it on his own. 

That is, until Stiles finally snapped. He was already getting his ass kicked by this serial killer case, no way he was going to let a fucking calendar for children taunt him too. Which is why another triumphant laugh burst from him as Frank stared at the solution to the riddle. “Dude, seriously when are you going to stop questioning me?” The eyeroll he got from his partner only made him laugh harder.

“Whatever dude. I’m going to get more coffee,” Frank said, crumpling the offensive riddle and dumping it into the trash can as he grabbed his wallet. “And I’m getting you decaf.” Stiles let Frank walk out with that Trump card played, and once his friend turned the corner, Stiles pulled a can of Redbull out of his bag and cracked it open. With his distraction out of the way, there was nothing else to do but turn his chair back to his evidence board. 

Red lines criss crossed over maps of his hometown and pictures of crime scenes. Three deaths, seemingly random. But there had to be something connecting them all. There was the religion angle…one of the identified bodies had been a steady member of a church. But the only other identified victim hadn’t from what detectives could find. Finding a connection would be easier if the third body — another woman, the second one found — had been identified. But she seemed to have put up a fight. There was some facial reconstruction that had to be done before they could connect her to the missing person’s database. There had to be something. 

He was only pulled out of the rip current of his own thoughts by a voice behind him. “...on the phone.” Stiles had tuned out the first half of the sentence as he turned. 

“What Brad?” Stiles asked the agent who typically worked the front desk. Maybe he sounded a little too irritated by the interruption, because Brad shot back with an irritated hand wave to Stiles’ clue board. 

“The case? Local PD is on the phone. Wants to talk to you.” Looking back at the board, Stiles narrowed his eyes, and then turned back to the other agent. 

“For fucks sake dude just say my dad is on the line.” Rolling his eyes, Stiles grabbed his desk phone and dismissed Brad with a single finger hand gesture. “Hey dad. You don’t usually call this number…” He said, sitting up. In reality, his dad never called his office line unless there was a break in the case. 

“It’s all business kid,” Noah said, voice crackling through the receiver, but Stiles can’t still hear the exhaustion in his words. “Need you down here. We identified the third body….” Brown eyes went straight for the board, staring at the image marked Jane Doe. There had been something about the blonde hair caught in the tree branches that seemed familiar.

And then his father said the name. “Heather. Her mom said she hasn’t heard from her since she went back to school. Didn’t think anything of it until her brothers birthday passed and she didn’t come home…We didn’t think about her because she wasn’t on the missing persons…Stiles are you listening?” 

He was. But he also wasn’t. Stiles’ ears were filled with the static of memories of growing up with Heather. Losing touch and reconnecting over the summer. It was only a few days, and things were awkward when Stiles turned a specific advance down, but it was like their childhood friendship just hit a growth spurt with them. “Yeah I’m here,” He said, swallowing around the memory of their last words. If you change your mind, you’ll know where to find me. She had winked at him and he had just snorted. He wasn’t interested in finding her for that. 

But Stiles didn’t want to find her like this either. 

“Figured it would be better if you and I told her mother. Instead of a random suit. Can you get here by the morning?” He checked the corner of his computer screen, already reaching for the open can of RedBull. 

“Yeah, dad. I’m on my way.” He said, hanging up after a quick goodbye and chugging the last of the energy drink as Frank walked back in. “Get in the car,” Stiles said to his partner, barely shutting his backpack in his haste to get out the door. “We’re going to Beacon Hills.”

Like something is brewing, about to begin.

The blonde one fought back. Which was less of a hindrance to the plan, and more of an irritation. They were on a time crunch, what didn’t these people understand? Their sacrifice was for the greater good — well a specific greater good — and pleading for their lives wasn’t going to change anything. They’ve learned to tune out the crying. The praying. The bartering. White noise as they prepared the ritual, whispering to the being that gave them life again before, begging to be given another chance to take on those that hunted them. 

But the blonde — they knew her name, but giving them names made it more complicated — had apparently practiced escaping from bonds. Because their back was turned for just a second and she was running through the forest. Screaming for help. Oh this would not do. They didn’t have time to play around. It didn’t take long to catch up — the uneven forest floor knocked the blonde one flat on her face as she tried to climb out of danger. Long nails dug into the ankle as they dragged her back. The screaming became less of fear and more of pain, as the debris beneath her tore at her skin, peeling back skin and leaving a path of blood in her wake. 

The screaming didn’t stop until the garotte was pulled tight against her neck. And it wasn’t until that silence came that they could breathe again. One step closer. “If you can hear me….” They whispered. “I await the power you can provide.”

The wind only whistled in response.

Can’t put my finger, on what lies in store…

Beneath their feet, the blood dripped off rocks, melted into soil, and settled into the roots of a tree long forgotten. Satiating a thirst that hadn’t been dealt with for years, something stirred in the darkness. A disquieting silence interrupted only by the rustling of leaves above. The sacrifices were made to get power, and power it would bring. As above, so below, the philosopher’s said. And as they were above, preparing sacrifices to awaken the power that was once so great, so below, someone was waking up after decades of sleep. 

What can rein without a crown? 

A spirit, brought into this world, only to be taken out. To be forced into the shadows, festering in its anger for decades. Gaining strength with each body sacrificed in the name of the Nemeton. They wouldn’t be bested again.

Chaos.

But I fear what’s to happen, all happened before.

[otrtbs]

Omg this is so important to me and I have to share because I just live through pop culture moments!!

- Trump throwing the toilet paper (paper towels?) to the crowd

- Hobama

- that one The Cut YouTube video where someone’s name was Nancy and the other person mentioned who she was named after

- NINA (if you know you know)

- the collective gasp in the movie theatre during Remember Me at the very end (again, you had to be there)

- Spider Man No Way Home

- Barbie vs Oppenheimer

and last but certainly not least,

- Ronald Reagan doing his speech and a balloon popped and all he said was “Missed Me” and continued on speaking

NO IM SO WITH YOU ALSO

let's have a kiki/turkey lurkey time number from glee

wendy william's "no one opens the doooooooor for a native new yoker"

that one pants on the ground american idol audition

glozelle cinnamon challenge on youtube

louis tomlinson's hey there delilah x factor audition