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the-strongest-decoy: arcticfoxbear: by-grace-of-god: prolifeproliberty: candiikismet: gingersofficial: Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word. He tells us more… So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons. Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni .  Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later. It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles. I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️ Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms. “And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y— “And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home. “Is [yet another friend]’s home?” Update from the other night: “Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is. I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language. Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?” yep! *runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?” @radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount “HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?” : the-strongest-decoy: arcticfoxbear: by-grace-of-god: prolifeproliberty: candiikismet: gingersofficial: Life path unlocked. He’s a scientist now. If your dad is telling you in great detail about something he’s passionate about, you’re going to be hooked even if you don’t understand a word. He tells us more… So now I have to deliver a quiet lecture on the Standard Model every night. He loves lists of things, like all the streets home from daycare, or the train stations between here and Central, so he loves hearing the list of leptons and quarks and bosons. Anyway, I made this poster for him, based on the CPEP ones we used to have at uni .  Alas I ran out of room for antimatter, colour charge and confinement, but hey, maybe there can be a second poster later. It’s funny though — on the surface of it, it seems like it must be far too advanced for a 3yo. But when you think about it, quarks and leptons are no more or less real to him than, say, dinosaurs or planets, and he loves those too. And he recognises the letters on the particles. I am absolutely overwhelmed by the kind and sweet things people are saying about this, thanks everyone ❤️ Addendum: he has really grasped onto the “everything is made of atoms” part of this, so tonight he listed just about every object he could think of and asked if it was made of atoms. “And my bed?”Yes, and your bed.“And that wall?”Yep.“And the armchair?”Yes, the armchair too.……“And… the book case?”Y— “And my home?”Yep, the whole apartment block.“And your home? Oh wait, your home is my home.”Haha, it is.……“But is it made of atoms?”Yep.“And… [best friend]’s home?”Yes, it is. And [other friend]’s home, and [third friend]’s home. “Is [yet another friend]’s home?” Update from the other night: “Is my… is… [extremely long pause] is my atoms poster made up of atoms?”—Yes! Yes it is. I have never heard such a contemplative silence. I think the next poster will have to be on the philosophy of referential language. Update from this morning: after listing everything in sight (mummy? daddy? fridge? milk? cereal? table? etc.) he asks “is [baby sister] made up of atoms?” yep! *runs over to her on the floor**puts face up real close to hers*“HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?” @radioactivepeasant @themagdalenwriting @iusedtohaveanaccount “HI! YOU’RE MADE UP OF LOTS OF ATOMS! DID YOU KNOW?”

the-strongest-decoy: arcticfoxbear: by-grace-of-god: prolifeproliberty: candiikismet: gingersofficial: Life path unlocked. He’s a...

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mresundance: sourcedumal: hobbitdragon: crotchetybushtit: usually unpopular opinion puffin pisses me off but this is so important yes this ALL OF THIS Human decency is the ability to see others as, well, human. I don’t give a shit why or how people are on wellfare. I don’t give a shit if they are grifters (statistically they are not). I don’t give a shit if they are addicts or recovering addicts, if they are poor and working 3 jobs or poor and working no jobs, if they are disabled in some capacity, I just don’t give a flying fuck. I give a flying fuck if that person is cold, or hungry, though, because that person is still a fucking person, regardless of all circumstances. And I have this weird idea that people deserve dignity and respect and I dunno, being seen and treated as human beings.  Empathy and compassion. Social conservatives should try it sometime.  : mresundance: sourcedumal: hobbitdragon: crotchetybushtit: usually unpopular opinion puffin pisses me off but this is so important yes this ALL OF THIS Human decency is the ability to see others as, well, human. I don’t give a shit why or how people are on wellfare. I don’t give a shit if they are grifters (statistically they are not). I don’t give a shit if they are addicts or recovering addicts, if they are poor and working 3 jobs or poor and working no jobs, if they are disabled in some capacity, I just don’t give a flying fuck. I give a flying fuck if that person is cold, or hungry, though, because that person is still a fucking person, regardless of all circumstances. And I have this weird idea that people deserve dignity and respect and I dunno, being seen and treated as human beings.  Empathy and compassion. Social conservatives should try it sometime. 
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rubitrightintomyeyes: theonion: Rock Apparently Factors Into Girlfriend’s Shower Routine SEATTLE—Saying he was confused about the full extent of its purpose as well as its overall benefit, local man Jacob Ferris, 25, nonetheless surmised today that the oblong rock located in girlfriend Sarah Milstein’s shower caddy must somehow factor into her bathing routine, sources confirmed. “I guess at some point while she’s showering, she rubs a rock on her body,” said Ferris, expressing what he claimed was “the only possible conclusion” about the light-gray rock in his girlfriend’s bathroom. “I mean, it looks sort of nice, so she could just have it there for decoration or something. But it’s usually right near all the other soaps and her loofah, so I think it’s probably something she actually uses while under the water.” “I really don’t know how it all works,” Ferris added. “All I know is that in between Sarah getting into the shower and getting out, there’s a rock involved.” Ferris, who said he was unable to determine exactly when in the showering process the rock first comes into play, told reporters he is equally clueless about what part of the body the rock is used on. In addition, Ferris said he occasionally inspects the roughly 3-ounce object when he’s in Milstein’s shower, and told reporters that the rock is nearly always wet and is occasionally moved to slightly different spots within the bathtub, leading him to believe that his girlfriend uses it fairly regularly. He also noted his girlfriend’s bathing time never seems particularly longer than the average person’s considering she has added a rock into the mix. Ferris added that all attempts to incorporate the rock into his own shower routine have ultimately been unsuccessful. “I tried rubbing it on my skin once, and it hurt,” Ferris said, concluding that pouring soap and water directly onto the rock neither made it softer nor easier on his skin. “I could maybe see how it could get some dirt off of your body, but it seems too painful to work. Her skin usually looks nice though, so maybe I’m wrong.” “There is a chance it could be a hair thing,” Ferris continued. “Maybe she rubs the rock in her hair? I don’t know.” Ferris confirmed he has considered numerous reasons for why his girlfriend uses the rock in the shower, including that she has some type of skin condition, that the rock is some sort of weird tradition her family has, or that everyone uses rocks in the shower and he has been out of the loop the entire time. “It could be for cleaning the bathtub,” said Ferris, adding he once suspected the rock was a device for making the bathroom smell nice, but then noticed it had no discernible smell whatsoever. “Like every few weekends she scrubs the tub with this rock? I guess I could see Sarah doing that.” While Ferris said he is mostly certain that the rock was initially purchased at a home goods store of some kind, he was not able to completely rule out the possibility it was just a rock that his girlfriend found on the ground and decided to put in her shower. “I wonder if I should put a rock in my shower for when she’s over here,” said Ferris, who said he once tried to locate a rock at a Bed Bath & Beyond, but left after not wanting to walk up to a sales clerk and ask them where they kept their “shower rocks.” “Or I could just tell her to leave a rock at my place if she wants.” “I’m probably not going to do that,” Ferris added. At press time, a visibly perplexed Ferris had seen the rock sitting in Milstein’s trashcan and then looked in the shower to see another rock sitting in its place. : rubitrightintomyeyes: theonion: Rock Apparently Factors Into Girlfriend’s Shower Routine SEATTLE—Saying he was confused about the full extent of its purpose as well as its overall benefit, local man Jacob Ferris, 25, nonetheless surmised today that the oblong rock located in girlfriend Sarah Milstein’s shower caddy must somehow factor into her bathing routine, sources confirmed. “I guess at some point while she’s showering, she rubs a rock on her body,” said Ferris, expressing what he claimed was “the only possible conclusion” about the light-gray rock in his girlfriend’s bathroom. “I mean, it looks sort of nice, so she could just have it there for decoration or something. But it’s usually right near all the other soaps and her loofah, so I think it’s probably something she actually uses while under the water.” “I really don’t know how it all works,” Ferris added. “All I know is that in between Sarah getting into the shower and getting out, there’s a rock involved.” Ferris, who said he was unable to determine exactly when in the showering process the rock first comes into play, told reporters he is equally clueless about what part of the body the rock is used on. In addition, Ferris said he occasionally inspects the roughly 3-ounce object when he’s in Milstein’s shower, and told reporters that the rock is nearly always wet and is occasionally moved to slightly different spots within the bathtub, leading him to believe that his girlfriend uses it fairly regularly. He also noted his girlfriend’s bathing time never seems particularly longer than the average person’s considering she has added a rock into the mix. Ferris added that all attempts to incorporate the rock into his own shower routine have ultimately been unsuccessful. “I tried rubbing it on my skin once, and it hurt,” Ferris said, concluding that pouring soap and water directly onto the rock neither made it softer nor easier on his skin. “I could maybe see how it could get some dirt off of your body, but it seems too painful to work. Her skin usually looks nice though, so maybe I’m wrong.” “There is a chance it could be a hair thing,” Ferris continued. “Maybe she rubs the rock in her hair? I don’t know.” Ferris confirmed he has considered numerous reasons for why his girlfriend uses the rock in the shower, including that she has some type of skin condition, that the rock is some sort of weird tradition her family has, or that everyone uses rocks in the shower and he has been out of the loop the entire time. “It could be for cleaning the bathtub,” said Ferris, adding he once suspected the rock was a device for making the bathroom smell nice, but then noticed it had no discernible smell whatsoever. “Like every few weekends she scrubs the tub with this rock? I guess I could see Sarah doing that.” While Ferris said he is mostly certain that the rock was initially purchased at a home goods store of some kind, he was not able to completely rule out the possibility it was just a rock that his girlfriend found on the ground and decided to put in her shower. “I wonder if I should put a rock in my shower for when she’s over here,” said Ferris, who said he once tried to locate a rock at a Bed Bath & Beyond, but left after not wanting to walk up to a sales clerk and ask them where they kept their “shower rocks.” “Or I could just tell her to leave a rock at my place if she wants.” “I’m probably not going to do that,” Ferris added. At press time, a visibly perplexed Ferris had seen the rock sitting in Milstein’s trashcan and then looked in the shower to see another rock sitting in its place.

rubitrightintomyeyes: theonion: Rock Apparently Factors Into Girlfriend’s Shower Routine SEATTLE—Saying he was confused about the full...

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priscilladyke: witchesversuspatriarchy: Thought this could fit in well here Ok I don’t mean to be doing this too often but I literally just wrote a paper about this so I thought I would comment! The English translation is The Cursed Woman but the original French is La Femme Damnée. “Femmes Damnées” was the title of a Baudelaire poem from his acclaimed 1857 book Fleurs du mal, which was known, among other things, to be a collection that famously dealt with the subject of lesbians. The poem tells the story of the desires and passionate love between two lesbians: Delphine and Hippolyte. As a result of this poem and of the book as a whole, the terms “fleurs du mal” and “femme damnée” became lesbian monikers of the turn of the century. Though some have deemed the term “damned women” to be accusatory of some moral dissonance, the poem it is derived from is actually quite sympathetic to the condition of lesbian love as it is a love which is unable to fully flourish in that time. Regardless, the translated title of Tassaert’s painting is misleading, as the original French is less accusatory and more identifying. The title is more accurately “the lesbian.” : priscilladyke: witchesversuspatriarchy: Thought this could fit in well here Ok I don’t mean to be doing this too often but I literally just wrote a paper about this so I thought I would comment! The English translation is The Cursed Woman but the original French is La Femme Damnée. “Femmes Damnées” was the title of a Baudelaire poem from his acclaimed 1857 book Fleurs du mal, which was known, among other things, to be a collection that famously dealt with the subject of lesbians. The poem tells the story of the desires and passionate love between two lesbians: Delphine and Hippolyte. As a result of this poem and of the book as a whole, the terms “fleurs du mal” and “femme damnée” became lesbian monikers of the turn of the century. Though some have deemed the term “damned women” to be accusatory of some moral dissonance, the poem it is derived from is actually quite sympathetic to the condition of lesbian love as it is a love which is unable to fully flourish in that time. Regardless, the translated title of Tassaert’s painting is misleading, as the original French is less accusatory and more identifying. The title is more accurately “the lesbian.”
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coelasquid: skylorde: livinmokotory: adhdalistair: penisennui: (via Justin Jorgensen) “In 2007 I worked with photographers Williams + Hirakawa to create a concept piece of me sleeping on a sheet cake. I though these cakes looked like pillows, and there’s the obvious play on ‘sweet dreams.’ I wondered if I could fall asleep on a cake and have sweet dreams. I didn’t. It was pretty gross really and wasn’t easy to wash off. A few years later, outtakes from the shoot were sold to Getty Images as stock photos. I didn’t know this until 2011 when one of those photos made #13 on the wildly popular Buzzffed.com list of “60 Completely Unusable Stock Photos.” Into 2014, the Getty Image photo continues to make the rounds on Facebook and Tumblr.” i can’t believe i leveled up enough to unlock cake pillow guy’s backstory I can’t believe the “sweet dreams” joke didn’t occur to me : coelasquid: skylorde: livinmokotory: adhdalistair: penisennui: (via Justin Jorgensen) “In 2007 I worked with photographers Williams + Hirakawa to create a concept piece of me sleeping on a sheet cake. I though these cakes looked like pillows, and there’s the obvious play on ‘sweet dreams.’ I wondered if I could fall asleep on a cake and have sweet dreams. I didn’t. It was pretty gross really and wasn’t easy to wash off. A few years later, outtakes from the shoot were sold to Getty Images as stock photos. I didn’t know this until 2011 when one of those photos made #13 on the wildly popular Buzzffed.com list of “60 Completely Unusable Stock Photos.” Into 2014, the Getty Image photo continues to make the rounds on Facebook and Tumblr.” i can’t believe i leveled up enough to unlock cake pillow guy’s backstory I can’t believe the “sweet dreams” joke didn’t occur to me
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randomslasher: seek-strength: geekinallitsglory: sashaalexanderisalesbianatheart: judgingitsilently: krazieleylines: typicalpony: How awesome does this sound though. You get infinite money and once a week you get to take a child to a candy store or toys or us or somewhere they love and buy them as much they want this would be fun given the kid wasn’t a brat. There is no downside to this at all This is the best, because it says A CHILD, not your child, so I could pick one of the really poor kids on the streets and go “Your life is going to change right now”, and I could buy everything their family might need, along with a house, a food supply, toys, clothes, and everything they never had the chance to have before. And the best thing is that I could do this with lots of children, and not just one. I could give a lot of children in need a full week of Christmas basically and maybe give them a chance to have a different life. That would be great. Bless u ^ humanity still exists.  Plus depending on how you define “child”, you could be helping highschool students who are struggling with application fines and even pay for college tuition, room and board, or books Bless this post and you kind hearted people. AND it says “AT LEAST” one week a month so you don’t have to stop at just one week, you could do this literally every day. And it doesn’t say it has to be the same child the whole week so you could easily pick one child each day, ‘cause let’s face it you could probably take care of most everything in that one day and spread your child-helping ability even further. : randomslasher: seek-strength: geekinallitsglory: sashaalexanderisalesbianatheart: judgingitsilently: krazieleylines: typicalpony: How awesome does this sound though. You get infinite money and once a week you get to take a child to a candy store or toys or us or somewhere they love and buy them as much they want this would be fun given the kid wasn’t a brat. There is no downside to this at all This is the best, because it says A CHILD, not your child, so I could pick one of the really poor kids on the streets and go “Your life is going to change right now”, and I could buy everything their family might need, along with a house, a food supply, toys, clothes, and everything they never had the chance to have before. And the best thing is that I could do this with lots of children, and not just one. I could give a lot of children in need a full week of Christmas basically and maybe give them a chance to have a different life. That would be great. Bless u ^ humanity still exists.  Plus depending on how you define “child”, you could be helping highschool students who are struggling with application fines and even pay for college tuition, room and board, or books Bless this post and you kind hearted people. AND it says “AT LEAST” one week a month so you don’t have to stop at just one week, you could do this literally every day. And it doesn’t say it has to be the same child the whole week so you could easily pick one child each day, ‘cause let’s face it you could probably take care of most everything in that one day and spread your child-helping ability even further. 

randomslasher: seek-strength: geekinallitsglory: sashaalexanderisalesbianatheart: judgingitsilently: krazieleylines: typicalpony: H...

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sonneillonv: violent-cisbian: lesbianplayinanimalcrossing: violent-cisbian: thevirginmaryswomb: radcybergoth: blackswallowtailbutterfly: ryderdai: the-pump-king: morphimus: charlesoberonn: charlesoberonn: queen-of-dirt: charlesoberonn: notaboyscout: charlesoberonn: memory-thought: charlesoberonn: updogonline: It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong. I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. You can see the inside of the cardboard though. This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set. it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door. I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal. American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last. Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls. Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood. Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that. Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is. Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes. Read this article. https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality Then watch this video. Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️ I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself. It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,? No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on. Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily. why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood? I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam. Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it. You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.   Needless to say I’m having it replaced. -laughs in solid wooden door-: sonneillonv: violent-cisbian: lesbianplayinanimalcrossing: violent-cisbian: thevirginmaryswomb: radcybergoth: blackswallowtailbutterfly: ryderdai: the-pump-king: morphimus: charlesoberonn: charlesoberonn: queen-of-dirt: charlesoberonn: notaboyscout: charlesoberonn: memory-thought: charlesoberonn: updogonline: It took me 3 watches to realize the door is cardboard and this man is not just freakishly strong. I assure you this is a standard interior door, usually only exterior doors are solid. You can see the inside of the cardboard though. This isn’t a real door, it’s a prop from a movie or TV set. it has a paper honeycomb for rigidity, and that’s how interior doors are made for modern construction in the USA. y'all have never kicked a hole in your bedroom door in a flurry of teenage hormonal rage and it shows If I kicked my bedroom door I’d more likely break my foot than the door. I always thought people punching through doors or shoving people through doors was just from the movies. Doors in my country are generally solid planks of wood, a polymer of sorts, or metal. American homes are made extremely cheaply and aren’t built to last. Steam from hot showers seeps into wall which are not treated to handle moisture, and mold grows in the walls. Almost every wall or floor is made out of plywood. Flimsy roofing that can withstand a run of the mill heavy storm, but not much more than that. Weak foundations that wouldn’t hold up at all if it weren’t for how light and plywood-y the overall house is. Not every American house is this shitty in all of these ways, but the vast majority of them are, and almost all of them have at least one of these problems. Even rich people’s homes. Read this article. https://dengarden.com/misc/American-Houses-and-Bad-Quality Then watch this video. Are we just ignoring this original post was about the OP looking for Elf Pussy or are we just totally past that? It’s already been answered that there is no elf pussy here, so why dwell? 🤷🏾‍♂️ I’m in Canada. I haven’t noticed any door be quite that flimsy. You could kick a hole in some of them (the hollow ones) but not right through, and not without hurting yourself. It also depends on how old your house is. My parents house is from the 80s and all the doors are solid wood Yeah my parents were the first people to live in our house so it would have been built in the same decade. I remember my mom saying that she liked how the doors were solid wood, and little me was confused bc I thought all doors were made of wood do y'all,,,, not have stone walls,,,,? No we don’t, usually just plywood or plasterboard with wooden frames for support. If it is stone it’s usually just a “feature wall” that is made of the aforementioned materials but with a thin layer of stone glued on. Basically this but just with paint over the plasterboard, American houses (or at least new ones) are built to look nice but ware easily. why would anyone build something like that? didn’t the pig with the wood house get killed or something? don’t y'all learn from your childhood? I live in AZ and one of my exterior doors is Styrofoam. Literally Styrofoam with a flexible plastic plate over it. You could kick right through it.  Or, if you felt like sneaking in and murdering me, cut through it with a kitchen knife.   Needless to say I’m having it replaced. -laughs in solid wooden door-
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cheeseanonioncrisps: roseverdict: roseverdict: jus-tea: Daddy’s at the food store, Mummy’s out of town, She’s working at the hospital since Rhona came to town, Hide away, hide away, Miss Rhona’s come to town, Hide away, hide away, she’s come to take us down. Miss Rhona’s at the doorstep, I’ll keep 6 feet away, But Grandma needs the paper, I’ll take her some today, Hide away, hide away, Miss Rhona’s come to stay, Hide away, hide away, we can’t come out to play. But Grandma needs the paper, I’ll take her some today, And here’s a note from Rhona, she wanted me to say, Hide away, hide away, keep 6 feet away, Hide away, hide away, she took us down today. [Image ID: Tumblr user @neanderthyall says in the notes, “I thought that 6 feet was kind of a double meaning. Like six feet away to stop the spread, but when people die they’re six feet underground, and its six feet of the dirt that keeps you apart. Like ‘Hide away, hide away, even though it hurts Hide away, hide away, or the six feet will be dirt’.” End ID.] HI DON’T LEAVE THIS IN THE NOTES THAT’S ACTUALLY BRILLIANT It’s not a proper creepy nursery rhyme until it’s got an eery childrens’ game attached to it though (think ring-a-round-the-roses or oranges and lemons). One child shall be designated ‘Miss (Mr, Mx) Rhona’ and will have to cover their eyes (hide away). They then have to try to catch the other kids— think Blind Man’s Bluff. The children running away chant the rhyme, to make it easier for ‘Rhona’ to find them. Any child tagged becomes another ‘Rhona’ and must also cover their eyes and join in the chase. The winner is the last child left uninfected. Meanwhile all adults in the area must watch with a vague sense of unease, and whisper to each other “do you know what that’s inspired by?” : cheeseanonioncrisps: roseverdict: roseverdict: jus-tea: Daddy’s at the food store, Mummy’s out of town, She’s working at the hospital since Rhona came to town, Hide away, hide away, Miss Rhona’s come to town, Hide away, hide away, she’s come to take us down. Miss Rhona’s at the doorstep, I’ll keep 6 feet away, But Grandma needs the paper, I’ll take her some today, Hide away, hide away, Miss Rhona’s come to stay, Hide away, hide away, we can’t come out to play. But Grandma needs the paper, I’ll take her some today, And here’s a note from Rhona, she wanted me to say, Hide away, hide away, keep 6 feet away, Hide away, hide away, she took us down today. [Image ID: Tumblr user @neanderthyall says in the notes, “I thought that 6 feet was kind of a double meaning. Like six feet away to stop the spread, but when people die they’re six feet underground, and its six feet of the dirt that keeps you apart. Like ‘Hide away, hide away, even though it hurts Hide away, hide away, or the six feet will be dirt’.” End ID.] HI DON’T LEAVE THIS IN THE NOTES THAT’S ACTUALLY BRILLIANT It’s not a proper creepy nursery rhyme until it’s got an eery childrens’ game attached to it though (think ring-a-round-the-roses or oranges and lemons). One child shall be designated ‘Miss (Mr, Mx) Rhona’ and will have to cover their eyes (hide away). They then have to try to catch the other kids— think Blind Man’s Bluff. The children running away chant the rhyme, to make it easier for ‘Rhona’ to find them. Any child tagged becomes another ‘Rhona’ and must also cover their eyes and join in the chase. The winner is the last child left uninfected. Meanwhile all adults in the area must watch with a vague sense of unease, and whisper to each other “do you know what that’s inspired by?”

cheeseanonioncrisps: roseverdict: roseverdict: jus-tea: Daddy’s at the food store, Mummy’s out of town, She’s working at the hospita...

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love-takes-work: “I thought they stopped making them.” “They did! So I made my own!” Sometimes you can’t go back. Sometimes even though it would be the perfect happy ending to bring back an element of where you came from, it just never happens and your old sweet comfort doesn’t return. So you make your own. You deal with the fact that it’s imperfect. And maybe a little ugly. And isn’t the same. And doesn’t come in a cool package shipped to a convenient location that you can just enjoy without much trouble. You deal with it, and you enjoy this version of the taste, and you accept that you can choose to have something in your life even if you have to put it there in unprecedented ways. Make your own Cookie Cats, y’all. My first homemade Cookie Cat The Cookie Cats I make now : love-takes-work: “I thought they stopped making them.” “They did! So I made my own!” Sometimes you can’t go back. Sometimes even though it would be the perfect happy ending to bring back an element of where you came from, it just never happens and your old sweet comfort doesn’t return. So you make your own. You deal with the fact that it’s imperfect. And maybe a little ugly. And isn’t the same. And doesn’t come in a cool package shipped to a convenient location that you can just enjoy without much trouble. You deal with it, and you enjoy this version of the taste, and you accept that you can choose to have something in your life even if you have to put it there in unprecedented ways. Make your own Cookie Cats, y’all. My first homemade Cookie Cat The Cookie Cats I make now

love-takes-work: “I thought they stopped making them.” “They did! So I made my own!” Sometimes you can’t go back. Sometimes even though...

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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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omgcheckplease: ★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!: omgcheckplease: ★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergraduate at Yale. One of the college’s traditional songs—which they strategically have students sing during their first weeks as Yalies and then again at the moment we’re conferred our degrees—goes like this:Bright College years, with pleasure rife,The shortest, gladdest years of life;How swiftly are ye gliding by!Oh, why doth time so quickly fly?Et cetera. The first time you sing it, you mumble the words and don’t know a single person around you. The last time you sing it, wearing the mortarboard and gown, you’ve got the lyrics memorized and you’re surrounded by some of the most important people in your life.That summer, with “How bright will seem, through mem’ry’s haze/ Those happy, golden, bygone days!” still ringing in my ears, I started CHECK, PLEASE. The comic’s first panels emerged on an ancient laptop, through a borrowed bamboo tablet, and on a free drawing program called gnu-IMPShop. I had no plan. I wanted to explore my newfound fascination with hockey and share silly cartoons on Tumblr. But unconsciously, I also wanted to pour the nostalgia of those bright college years into the Haus, Faber, Samwell, and Bitty’s story. I wanted to bottle up those moments where we grow and change and fall down and pick ourselves back up. Drawing CHECK, PLEASE was how I revisited those experiences and how I sifted through the bittersweet feeling of concluding something I loved. Perhaps this is why finishing CHECK, PLEASE calls back those same emotions. Just as Bitty would bake affection into a pie, I might have encoded into CHECK, PLEASE the heartfelt fondness I had for my time in college, the love of the friends I made there, and the gratitude I have for my own growth.I have always found it easier to express gratitude face to face. And even though I would not have gotten to meet all of you, the greatest downside of being unable to participate in a book tour is that I can’t say thanks in person. I could write a thousand words, yet they couldn’t replace a high five at a bookstore signing or a handshake at a convention. I could write the blog post to end all blog posts, but it’s not the same as yelling with you about an episode or chatting about a fandom we both happen be in. For me, it’s those moments that somehow equate to my abundant appreciation for you, the reader.I look forward to the day when I can let my actions speak louder than my words!In the meantime: thank you. I am incredibly blessed to get to create a story and then share it. This is all I want to do in life. These characters get to have a readership overflowing with love and enthusiasm for them. This comic, somehow, has found ambassadors. This story gets to be told. Thank you! I’m excited to share with you the unusual, fun, and hopeful narratives I’m working hard to develop.So with that, I’ll sign off on the last blog post! Thank you for reading this comic. Thank you for sharing it with friends. Thank you for caring about Bitty’s story and CHECK, PLEASE.Thank you!John J. Johnson.Just kidding, it’s Ngozi. :^) Tee hee. Bye now!

omgcheckplease: ★ Notes on Year 4, Comic 26 - Check, Please ★In the summer of 2013, I was fully mourning my completed time as an undergr...

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