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Tumblr, Blog, and Heart: artisticlog: Burrow tails have a sweet spot in my green heart 🌿☘️🌱🍀🍃🌵✨

artisticlog: Burrow tails have a sweet spot in my green heart 🌿☘️🌱🍀🍃🌵✨

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Apparently, Ass, and Bad: bibliotecaria-d: ebonykain: karacat: othersideofforty: erinnightwalker: ripped-up-jeans-and-glitter: erinnightwalker: acaffeinejunkie: erinnightwalker: erinnightwalker: geostatonary: sixpenceee: “A house I pass on the way to work has this sculpture in its yard. Its about 8 feet tall.” (Source) “HELLO NEIGHBOR STEVE, I WOULD LIKE TO INVITE YOU TO BARBEQUE ON THE EVE OF THE BLOOD MOON.  I FEEL WE GOT OFF TO A BAD START.” “NEIGHBOR STEVE, DO YOU NOT WISH TO PARTAKE OF THE UNCLEAN FLESH-MEATS OF PIGS AND THE POLLUTED ESSENCES OF TOMATO?  PERHAPS YOU ARE A CAROLINA STYLE MAN, NEIGHBOR STEVE?” “PUT THE GUN AWAY NEIGHBOR STEVE, YOU KNOW I SHALL ONLY RISE AGAIN WITH THE DAWNING OF THE MOON.  WE HAVE BEEN THROUGH THIS MANY TIMES.” “LOOK AT THIS PICTURE MY SON DREW OF YOU AND CHILD TIMMY, YOUR SON.  ARE THEY NOT THE PICTURE OF PACT-MATES?  THIS COULD BE YOU AND ME, NEIGHBOR STEVE.” “YOU MISSED THE UNHOLY NEXUS OF POWER THAT IS THE KEY TO MY CORPOREAL FORM, NEIGHBOR STEVE.  YOU WILL NEED TO RELOAD NOW, SO I WILL GO INSIDE TO MY HELL-WIFE AND PUT YOU DOWN AS A SOLID ‘MAYBE’.“ I have the feeling that the families get along great except for Steve. Like, the wives are baking (questionable) brownies together, the kids are playing together, Antler Guy occasionally takes Son and Timmy to school (no car, just carries them in huge swinging strides through a nexus of ungoldly sights in a swirling netherworld shortcut. Sometimes they stop for McDonalds). Hell-wife gave them a potted Audrey Jr., Steve’s wife (who I now christen Sharon) gave them a begonia. One time Steve tries throwing holy water but all Antler Guy does is thank him, saying that no, Antler Guy isn’t Catholic but it’s the thought that counts, he is so kind to water his creeping deathshade vines regardless. For Christmas Antler Guy gives Steve a case of ammunition. To be funny/sarcastically mean Steve gets Antler Guy the world’s most hideous Christmas sweater, singing light-up reindeer included. He immediately regrets it because not only does Antler Guy love it and wears it for several months, it will never need batteries because Antler Guy powers it with his own eldritch aura. When they come back from a holiday to Hawaii, Steve is horrified to find out Sharon bought them matching Hawaiian shirts. He is even more horrified that his wife means it that if he doesn’t wear it he will forever sleep on the couch. I want to expand on this, since I see it’s still passing around and the ideas have grown in my brainmeats. What drives Steve up the wall and down the other side is how… normal… everyone treats the Abominations. (Yes, that is their last name. No, it is not a joke. Son was asked his last name for the standardized testing at school, had a quick conference with Timmy, and decided that Son Abomination sounded good, “Since my dad calls your dad the Abomination anyway and we can paint it on your mailbox just like the Henderson’s did theirs!”. Antler Guy agreed and did a lovely rendition of it for the mailbox, with only a few glyphs of soul-rending terror added to keep up to snuff.) The Great Plant Exchange went beautifully, though the Audrey Jr. (named Aubergine for the lovely shade of purple poison that drips from her fangs) is on a diet at the moment. She was in cahoots with the cat and the dog to get into the good people food and ate two frozen turkeys all herself. Now she’s restricted to the hallway table to answer the phone and the door. (Steve actually likes her, and keeps slipping her hotdogs when Sharon isn’t looking. Their door-to-door salesman rates have dropped dramatically since she changed abodes.) Hell-wife has almost gotten the begonia to bloom and say it’s first words. The homeowner’s association just loves the Abominations. All paperwork stamped and dotted, in on time and in triplicate. Antler Guy likes filing, says it reminds him of his old job. There is a resident who spent 20 years as a lawyer and they have long, animated conversations about all sorts of things that make Steve swear to never need legal counsel. Hell-wife joined the PTA and spearheaded a committee to fundraise in the fall with a haunted house. It was a county-wide hit, though the claims that a particularly rowdy group had been deliberately lost in a timeslip to the Outer Doors Of Chaos was firmly rebuffed. Most young people nowadays, it was agreed, just couldn’t appreciate flute music. Antler Guy really does try to connect with Steve. The surprise birthday party was perhaps a bit much, given that most participants do not have the ability to suddenly materialize in front of the guest of honor to give them a hug. Sharon assured them that Steve normally screams on his birthday, and the remains of the cake were heartily enjoyed by all. (A plate was saved for Steve once he came down from the treehouse.) After the Hawaii trip (which was a present for his birthday) and the Matching Shirt Ultimatum (which was Sharon’s attempt at patching things up with Antler Guy, he really was sad about the birthday screaming), Steve finally grabs his courage in both hands (plus the shotgun, which let’s face it is about as useful as a teddybear at the moment but it does comfort him) and confronts Antler Guy, about why such a group of……Abominations could possibly come to his quiet slice of suburban bliss. “……BUT NEIGHBOR STEVE, WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE.” “No no no, I read it in a book! Don’t you have to be invited or something?!” “WELL YES, TO THE HUMAN WORLD. BUT THIS IS NOT THE HUMAN WORLD AS YOUR THREE-DIMENSIONAL BRAIN PERCEIVES IT.” “What the hell does that mean?!!” “DID YOU NOT KNOW, NEIGHBOR STEVE? LEGALLY SPEAKING, ALL OF THE VASTNESS OF HUMAN SUBURBIA IS, IN FACT, A PART OF HELL.” “……..” “THE FLAMINGOES ARE THE BOUNDARY MARKERS. IT WAS DECIDED THAT THE FLAMING SKULLS WERE TOO KITSCHY FOR MODERN TIMES.” Reblogging cause I kind of want more of this…. Since you asked nicely ^_^ Antler Guy, as one may have noticed, is a calm sort of fellow. In the face of human atrocities he displays a curious Zen sort of state of mind. Timmy asks Son if he’d ever seen his dad angry, and Son hasn’t. (When asked, Timmy says that yeah his dad gets mad, but it’s like the Fitz-Simmon’s chihuahua down the street- mostly high-pitched noise and occasionally TV remote chewing. Sharon replaces the poor thing every 3 months or so.) When pressed (gently, at the monthly book club, and with many cups of tea and at least one daiquiri), Hellwife admits that this comes from serving many years at his old job. After the revelation of the nature of his neighborhood, Steve has not been overtly mean to Antler Guy. Not yet in the realm of friends, but vastly better than before. No more holy water, no more shotgun blasts. (Still the occasional jumpscare, but Antler Guy really can’t help that part.) They even occasionally share news over the fence as Antler Guy trains the creeping deathshade vines in proper oral hygiene, and Steve waters his lawn (and occasionally slips a goldfish cracker to a deathshade vine that looks particularly adorable. Aubergine has trained him well.) Which is how Antler Guy learns about the peeping tom that’s been plaguing the adjacent streets. Apparently the pervert has been getting bolder, and rattling doors. He almost broke into one apartment, whose occupants were a single mother and her daughter, Mildred. Millie, a shy girl who is a great horror fan and firm friends with Timmy and Son, had missed school because of it. Steve knew because Sharon had told him, on her way to deliver a tuna casserole and a double batch of brownies to the pair. (Sharon has been dubbed the unoffical mob boss of the Mother’s Mafia. She is quite pleased with this title.) He tells her to wait, confers briefly with Aubergine, and sends her along with, “Only as a loan, you know, but Auby wants to stretch her roots and she’d probably like getting all ribboned and curled anyway. Little girls still do that, right?” She has strict orders to bite anyone that makes Millie or her mother cry. (Steve is dubbed the official neighborhood marshmallow for this. The bookclub buys him a jar of marshmallow fluff in commemoration.) He turns to look at Antler Guy, and freezes, much as a chihuahua will when faced with a hungry hellhound. “You….you alright there buddy?” “Ň̵̴̫̫̙͙̻̞͈̫̥̪̱͈͈̯̍̀̀͆ͫ̒̿̄͗͘͡͝ͅO̊͑̑͒̎͑̃ͬͭͮ̅̔̆̃̉ͯ̇͗̀҉̵̻̜̞͉̟͙͚̻̪̼̖̀͟ͅ.̵͈̣͈̙̣̜̻̭̩̝̠̞͗ͤͥ̓͗ͬ̓̄͊̓̅̐ͩͮͧͤ̽̐ “ “Uh, yeah, I guess not. Did you, uh, know you’re kinda fuzzing at the edges, there?” “Ň̵̴̫̫̙͙̻̞͈̫̥̪̱͈͈̯̍̀̀͆ͫ̒̿̄͗͘͡͝ͅO̊͑̑͒̎͑̃ͬͭͮ̅̔̆̃̉ͯ̇͗̀҉̵̻̜̞͉̟͙͚̻̪̼̖̀͟ͅ.̵͈̣͈̙̣̜̻̭̩̝̠̞͗ͤͥ̓͗ͬ̓̄͊̓̅̐ͩͮͧͤ̽̐ “ “Right. Um. Well.” Steven makes a very ungraceful exit when space starts bending around Antler Guy’s still, unmoving form. When Steve sees a shadowy form in his back yard when he gets up to pee that night, there’s no hesitation. He grabs the shotgun from the cabinet and peeks out the back door window. Just in time to see a nebulous form of soul-wrenching terror engulf the man reaching for the door handle. A sliver of moonlight reveals a very familiar eyesocket. After a moment (and a sincere prayer of thanks that he had already peed, cause otherwise he’d have done it then and there) Steve opens the door. The nebulous form freezes, reality bending around the edges. “Nice night for it, huh?” “…..Y̮̮͍͔͇͙͙̟̐͌͛̓̏͞͡Eͩͭͮ̓̍ͯ̀ͧ͏̵̴̛̺̠̱͕̕ͅS͈̹̮̟̳̪̩̘͍̤̲̻͈̱̳̽̋́ͩ̃͋̎ͩ̈͆̀͘͢͢͟ͅ.̧̢͈̭̝̥̦͚͍̇ͫ̃̓͆̿̇ͪ͊ͧ̃͛͌͜͢ “ “Guy won’t scare anymore litttle girls, will he?” “Ň̵̴̫̫̙͙̻̞͈̫̥̪̱͈͈̯̍̀̀͆ͫ̒̿̄͗͘͡͝ͅO̊͑̑͒̎͑̃ͬͭͮ̅̔̆̃̉ͯ̇͗̀҉̵̻̜̞͉̟͙͚̻̪̼̖̀͟ͅ.̵͈̣͈̙̣̜̻̭̩̝̠̞͗ͤͥ̓͗ͬ̓̄͊̓̅̐ͩͮͧͤ̽̐ “ “Good. G’night then. Oh, and if Hellwife has an extra Audrey Jr. that needs a home, let me know. Millie likes Aubergine a lot but Augy’s just too big for the apartment. Dunno if they come in miniatures though.” “ I̴̛̟̭͉̮̜̩̬̮̣̘̰͚̩͙̟̳͔̜̙͑̂̆̆͗͒̀ ͖̖̰͉̥͖͔̙̤̺͍̳͈̹͙̣̞̇̇ͤ͒̅̈́͆̽ͧ́̚̚̕͘W̶̶̱͈̞͖̼̟̣̮̌͂͒̈́͑͌͒͋̍ͮ͗̈ͣ̓ͤ͘͟I̴̶̞̥̩͇̔ͩͦ̇̉̾ͣͬ̀̀̒͒ͧ͛͌͛͆̚͘͢ͅͅL̠̟͕̠̟̪̰̻ͯ͂͊ͥ̍̏͋̐ͬ̉̆̈̀͠L̸̞̭͔̮ͦ͑̉ͮͩ́ͬͨͣ͘͜.̴͈͎̮͇͓͖̱̻̣͊͊ͤͩ͊̑͗͞ ̸̡̩̖̞̩̻̩̪̭͙̳͚͇̟̺͖̑͊ͫ̀͆ͨ̉̔̓̂̓̋T̷̷̟͉̟̻̻̪̞̰̯̻͈̣̰̬̻̾͐́ͭ̓̅́͡H͇̬̪̩̬̝̣͍͈͇ͯ͛̏͌ͮͧͭͦ͟͜A̴̴̤͕͈̤̮̞̱̯͔͕̙͔͖̰̬̰͈̠ͥ̏ͥ̍̽ͧ̀͝N͗̓͋̃̈̑̀̅ͣ̽̒̂̄ͯͩͤ͏̢͢͏͈̯͎̪͇̟̠͔̯͓͓̰̠̱̠̳͕̳͝K̢̓ͧ͛͛ͣ̄̓̓ͯ̍̈̈́̌͂̔͟҉̛̘̥̖̤̦̻̳͙͟ ̢̢̻̥̹̣̞͉̘͇͚͍̖̯̘͚͔̗̩͓͐ͮ͂͂̀̚͘͠Y̜̞͇̳̗̬͎̰̙̜̩̪͎̞̙̠̔͂̌̃́̀O͇̺̲͙͍̬̳̘͈̱̜̝͔̖̊ͥ̿ͫͤͫͫͩ͋̓̃ͦ̈̄͢͟Ū̢͖̲̦̠̤͎̙͉̦͖̖͓͍̺̺ͪͯ͐͆͆ͭͯ͗ͦ̄̅̌̈̃̾ͭ̋ͧ͢͢͠͡.̶̸̞͓̞̹̗̻̣͈͕̠̬̦ͫ̆ͤͬͨͦ͒͂ͨ̿ͩͪ͘͞.ͧ͛̒̂̂͗ͨ̌͆ͥͭ͒̉͘͜͏̙͖̰̝̙̲͓̙͕͍̥̳̩́͠.̶̷̮͎̱̼̬͖̰͎͚͙̥̓͋͋ͦ̓̓ͯ͆͛̏ͫ̅ͯ.̨̧̙̤̳̮̺̙͖̞͔̗͎͍̑̆ͮ͐ͩͦ̌̽̾̏͘͠.̹̖͕̮͕̞̰͍͚͖̌ͪ̃̐̐̌̌̅̉͑ͧͪͪͬ̓͐́͛̿͘͞ ….NEIGHBOR STEVE.” “Anytime.” There are no more peeping reports. Millie brings back Aubergine and spends an entire afternoon teaching Steve the particulars of Augy’s new “hairstyle” (a gravity-defying mass of teased tendrils, ribbons, and barrettes) in between games of tag and hide-and-seek with Timmy and Son. When Antler Guy and Hellwife present her and her mother Beatrice with a tiny Audrey Jr. (”pOOr ThinG Is a ruNT And wOn’T geT MorE Than A FooT taLL, BEa, aNd NeeDS a New FRiEnD”, assures Hellwife), both mother and child burst out crying. Millie names it Bella, after Bella Lugosi, and shows it to the excited group of boys (Steve and Augy included). IT GOT SO MUCH BETTER!!!! Life in a subdivision partly populated with eldritch and possibly magical (officially classified as “extra-dimensional”, for even when faced with the physics-defying nature of their new co-habitating citizens the government cannot bring itself to acknowledge them as “magic wielding hell-beasts”, as some high-ranking staff members initially suggested) goes on fairly normally. Sure, there are a few hiccoughs. The creeping deathshade vines get a stern talking to about appropriate afternoon snacks (”NOT the Fitz-Simmon’s chihuahua, I don’t care how much he has it coming or what he excreted where, now spit it out!”), Aubergine sheds all her leaves at once and snowballs the house (but does helps sweep up afterwards), and moonrise is a good time to watch the night-gaunts fly by (but on moondark it’s best to stay inside, no matter how prettily they glow. They’re somewhat similar to fireflies, and don’t always check to see if their partner glows as well. It wouldn’t be as much of a problem if they didn’t dive mid-coitus and drop just above the ground.) While the neighborhood in general is accepting of the Abominations, when things get to be a bit much they tend to come to Steve. Since meeting Beatrice and Millie (and the formation of the Terrifying Triad known as Millie, Son, and Timmy) Steve is the adult human male most comfortable dealing with Antler Guy on the whole street. (Sharon as U.M.B. is widely held to have, well, steel-whatever-the-hell-she-wants, and Timmy is known to run over to Antler Guy and ask for rides through “that wobbly grey place, you know, the one with the REALLY BIG alligators?”. Still, the courtesies must be observed.) So when a writhing sparking ball of snarling terror and teeth takes up residence in the Manzo’s tool-shed, and when Animal Control refuses to come (the street is banned due to a run-in with the deathshade vines), Steve is called. Having heard the description, Steve brings Antler Guy. When they get there, Mr. Manzo is forcibly holding the door shut. Unholy yowling is coming from inside. At a gesture from Antler Guy, Mr. Manzo leaps away, and the doors blast open. A 150 pound ball of whimpering, flaming something hits Steve and knocks him on his ass. The whimpering, flaming something proceeds to slobber all over Steve, his shirt, his pants, and a decent portion of grass in between distressed yelps. “GACK!” “NEIGHBOR STEVE, ARE YOU IN DISTRESS?” “GAAACKLEARGHSPLUH- DOWN boy, HEEL, that’s a good- Antler Guy, what is this?!” “I BELIEVE IT IS A HELLHOUND, NEIGHBOR STEVE.” “Good grief, I didn’t know they came this big and…..and….. Guy?” “YES NEIGHBOR STEVE?” “Is he supposed to be…..skinless?” “YES NEIGHBOR STEVE. THIS VARIETY WAS BRED TO BE LAP DOGS. THEIR FLAME IS MOSTLY WITHOUT HEAT, AND THEY HAVE NO SKIN FOR THOSE WHO ARE ALLERGIC.” “…….laPDOG?!” “YES NEIGHBOR STEVE.” Antler Guy lays a hand on the hellhound, who tries to burrow further into Steve with little success. “HE APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN RECENTLY WEANED. IT WILL TAKE TIME FOR HIM TO GROW TO HIS FULL SIZE.” “……” “THE SMALL BREEDS GROW MORE SLOWLY.” A vile hissing emanates from the shed. (Mr. Manzo has long since fled for the safety of his kitchen.) As Steve attempts to calm the frantic hell-puppy, Antler Guy investigates. He reaches one long hand in behind the riding lawnmower and….. winces. “NEIGHBOR STEVE?” “Yeah- I’m right here, uh, doggie, not going anywhere- Guy?” “I APPEAR TO HAVE AN…. ATTACHMENT.” Steve is awed at the tiny ball of white fluff attached to one long, thin finger. He didn’t know that Antler Guy’s fingers COULD be bitten, much less by a tiny kitten. Which is how Steve and Sharon got Clifford (”Aww c’mon Sharon, how could I pass that one up?”), and Antler Guy and Hellwife get Fluffy (”NEIGHBOR STEVE ASSURES ME IT IS A TRADITIONAL TITLE.”) This might be the most amazing thing that ever crossed my tumblr dash OMIGOSH I’m in love. I LOVE EVERY BIT OF THIS This is like the stoplight post. It is Tumblr legend, and I feel I must reblog it for those fortunate few who get to experience it for the first time.
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Party, Run, and Singing: Simone Policano 28 Mar at 01:26 A note on consent I filmed a scene today with a young child actor who had to quickly peck me on the lips as I tucked him into bed. The moment in the film is supposed to be somewhat uncomfortable, unexpected. I've gotten to know him over the past five days of shooting - he is a remarkable, kind and intuitive kid. He often appears much younger than his 12 years of age, waving his flashlight under a blanket and singing DISSSSC000 PARTYYYYY!!, but now and again an old-soul quality of his blinks up at me through messy light brown hair. He had read the script so he knew the kiss was coming, yet when the production team walked through it for blocking we'd gloss over the moment, nervous about making him uncomfortable. He's young and doesn't know me all that well and it's a lot to ask of a kid who met you five days ago. But eventually we had to run it, because that's what you have to do. And so when the director said we were going to do it for real, our young actor pulled me in for a sec and whispered "Hey Simone, I want to make sure you're okay with everything that happens with the kiss. Do you feel okay? Please tell me if l'm ever doing too much or if I hurt you or make you feel scared." This took many times longer to say than the kiss would take to film. True to his word, after every take of a .3 second peck, he grabbed my hand and whispered Was that okay? Did you feel okay?" And then we'd high- five and he'd burrow back under the covers to resume his flashlight disco party until the next take. Hes 12. Don't let anyone ever tell you that the male inability to understand consent is innate. It is learned <p><a href="http://silvasaliva.tumblr.com/post/172728278733/yall-wanna-tell-me-why-the-minor-had-to" class="tumblr_blog">silvasaliva</a>:</p> <blockquote><p>?????? y’all wanna tell me why the minor had to take responsibility for the adults consent here??????? y’all wanna tell me why a child feels a supreme sense of guilt for how an adult feels in the same vulnerable situation?????? y’all wanna tell me wtf is happening here???????</p></blockquote> <p>What kills me about stuff like this is that they seem to be responding to an imaginary set of non-feminists who are shrugging their shoulders and saying “Men just have to rape and don’t understand consent. It’s in their nature” when in my experience the only people saying stuff like that are feminists. Like the only people I know who interpret “boys will be boys“ as “boys will be rapists“ are feminists.</p>

silvasaliva: ?????? y’all wanna tell me why the minor had to take responsibility for the adults consent here??????? y’all wanna tell me why...

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Comfortable, Party, and Respect: Simone Policano 28 Mar at 01:26 A note on consent I filmed a scene today with a young child actor who had to quickly peck me on the lips as I tucked him into bed. The moment in the film is supposed to be somewhat uncomfortable, unexpected. I've gotten to know him over the past five days of shooting - he is a remarkable, kind and intuitive kid. He often appears much younger than his 12 years of age, waving his flashlight under a blanket and singing DISSSSC000 PARTYYYYY!!, but now and again an old-soul quality of his blinks up at me through messy light brown hair. He had read the script so he knew the kiss was coming, yet when the production team walked through it for blocking we'd gloss over the moment, nervous about making him uncomfortable. He's young and doesn't know me all that well and it's a lot to ask of a kid who met you five days ago. But eventually we had to run it, because that's what you have to do. And so when the director said we were going to do it for real, our young actor pulled me in for a sec and whispered "Hey Simone, I want to make sure you're okay with everything that happens with the kiss. Do you feel okay? Please tell me if l'm ever doing too much or if I hurt you or make you feel scared." This took many times longer to say than the kiss would take to film. True to his word, after every take of a .3 second peck, he grabbed my hand and whispered Was that okay? Did you feel okay?" And then we'd high- five and he'd burrow back under the covers to resume his flashlight disco party until the next take. Hes 12. Don't let anyone ever tell you that the male inability to understand consent is innate. It is learned <p><a href="https://ima-fuckingt4ble.tumblr.com/post/172674966466/levicooksupsomebullsht-yourownpetard-the-male" class="tumblr_blog">ima-fuckingt4ble</a>:</p><blockquote> <p><a href="https://levicooksupsomebullsht.tumblr.com/post/172611141730/yourownpetard-the-male-inability-to-understand" class="tumblr_blog">levicooksupsomebullsht</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="https://yourownpetard.tumblr.com/post/172604400093/the-male-inability-to-understand-consent-the" class="tumblr_blog">yourownpetard</a>:</p> <blockquote><p>&gt;the male inability to understand consent<br/><br/>The what???</p></blockquote> <p>are we just going to ignore that the <i>12 year old boy</i> in this situation is expected to be responsible for the consent of an <i>adult woman</i>? Boy’s not even an adult and it’s <i>still</i> his responsibility for women’s comfort and safety even when <i>he’s</i> the vulnerable one in the situation. </p> <p>Does she absolutely not see the <i>glaring double standard</i> of men, regardless of age, having to take responsibility for women’s boundaries but women are not obligated to actually communicate their boundaries or respect men’s boundaries. </p> <p>Even when a boy is young and vulnerable he still manages to have empathy and take responsibility, and she makes it entirely about shitting on men.</p> </blockquote> <p>!!!!!!!!!!!</p> </blockquote> <p>I literally thought this is going to be about how important it was for her as an ADULT to make sure the CHILD was comfortable and didn’t view the situation as sexual but no we had to take a hard left turn into feminist bullshit.</p>
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Af, Apparently, and College: Jason Miles @JMilesKHOU Follow | . Student named "most likely to become a terrorist" by teachers. @ChannelviewlSD doesn't find it funny. My story: #khou 11 at 5:00 & 6:00 AVID BULLDOGS Oo Decades of College Dreams MOST LIKELY TO BECOME A TERRORIST LIZETH VILLANUEVA 7th Grade AVID 2017-2018 CALIF SURF ..ooo T-Mobile ← ⓘhttps://www.google.com/sear 回 Y AQUIRRE JR. HIGH 109 Lance Corporal Anthony Aguirre Junior High Middle school in Channelview, Texas CALL DIRECTIONS SHARE WEBSITE 15726 Wallisville Rd, Houston, TX 77049 (281) 860-3300 Suggest an edit Own this business? Reviews from the web 4.4/5 Facebook 8 votes Malik Follow 1 . Leek3seventeen I want everyone fired by 12pm tomorrow Twitter do ya thing. Jason Miles@JMilesKHOU Student named "most likely to become a terrorist" by teachers. @Channelviewi SD doesn't find it funny. My story: #khou 11 at 5:00 IZETH V | & 6:00 RETWEETS LIKES 6,075 5,503 6:56 PM-25 May 2017 <p><a href="http://emeraldboreas.tumblr.com/post/161107443561/50shadesofsnarky-egaylitarian" class="tumblr_blog">emeraldboreas</a>:</p><blockquote> <p><a href="http://50shadesofsnarky.tumblr.com/post/161099100682/egaylitarian-lord-of-the-discourse" class="tumblr_blog">50shadesofsnarky</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="https://egaylitarian.tumblr.com/post/161097864436/lord-of-the-discourse-futureblackpolitician" class="tumblr_blog">egaylitarian</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="http://lord-of-the-discourse.tumblr.com/post/161097796998/futureblackpolitician-lagonegirl" class="tumblr_blog">lord-of-the-discourse</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="http://futureblackpolitician.tumblr.com/post/161091908620/lagonegirl" class="tumblr_blog">futureblackpolitician</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p><a href="https://lagonegirl.tumblr.com/post/161088026452/ericlathanchannelviewisdesc4net-heres-the" class="tumblr_blog">lagonegirl</a>:</p> <blockquote> <p> eric.lathan@channelview.isd.esc4.net here’s the school principal’s email <br/></p> <p>Sad af. 2017 and still racist acts going on. It’s something new every day <br/></p> </blockquote> <p>Yooooo everyone’s getting real bold now and this is why we need to start throwing hands</p> </blockquote> <p>Wow wtf</p> </blockquote> <p>Is this real? Because if so, what the fuck.</p> </blockquote> <p><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2017/05/26/texas-teachers-give-most-likely-to-become-a-terrorist-award-to-13-year-old/?utm_term=.bed91f8df18c">Read into it</a>, apparently they were also handing awards like “Most likely to cry over every little thing” and “Most likely to become homeless.”<br/><br/>That’s pretty fucked up and humilliating.</p> </blockquote> <p>Those kinds of “awards” can burrow deep into a kid’s brain. Whoever was dubbed the most likely to cry over every little thing is probably going to have emotional issues for years from second-guessing whether their feelings are valid.</p> </blockquote> <p>Uhhhhhhhhhh</p>
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Tumblr, Winter, and Blog: bunnywartooth: Here we have the wild Fenriz peeking out of his burrow after a long winter.

bunnywartooth: Here we have the wild Fenriz peeking out of his burrow after a long winter.

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Comfortable, Memes, and Music: If Young Metro don't trust you, l'm gon shoot you gorunnbui dani ma If you haven't earned the trust of Young Metro, l N will fire a weapon at you If hip hop producer "Young Metro" deems you unworthy of his trust for whatever reason, rest assured, I will assault you with a firearm Lot it be known that should the circumstance arise in which the musical production technician of the hip hop genre known as "Propubescont Metropolis' lacks the confidenco to comfortably instill a sonse of trustworthiness into you due to past dispositions regarding the nature of your character, you have my certainty that I will be arming myself with one of many various caliber ballistic combat firearm weapons and, after loading a magazine which contains the ammunition on which the projectile lethality is based, and loading a single unit of this ammunition into the capacity chamber of the weaponized warfare mechanism after disengaging the safety locking unit located on the firearm, l will be acquiring the physical space which your biological presence encapsulates into the appropriate sighting contraptions affixed to my caliber combat gadget, so that I may then exert force from my index finger onto the trigger mechanism of the weapon system and set forth a ballistics reaction which will launch a bullet. like projectile into the general direction ofwhich you are present, with the ambition that said bullet will penetrate your epidermis and burrow deeply into your vital organ systems, leading to the internal flowing of crimson life liquids, extemal spillage of said liquids, and severe damage of biological tissues deemed only repairable by an appropriately trained surgeon "Prepubescent Metropolis" LMFAOOOO

"Prepubescent Metropolis" LMFAOOOO

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Comfortable, Confidence, and Memes: If Young Metro don't trust you, l'm gon shoot you gonnabu damomo If you haven't earned the trust of Young Metro, l N will fire a weapon at you If hip hop producer "Young Metro" deems you unworthy of his trust for whatever reason rest assured, I will assault you with a firearm Lot it be known that should the circumstance arise in which the musical production tochnician of the hip hop genre known as "Propuboscont to comfortably instil a sonse of Metropolis" lacks the confidence character, you have my certainty that I wil be arming myself with one of many various caliber ballistic combat firearm weapons and, aftor loading magazine which contains the ammunition on which the projoctile lothality a single unit of this ammunition into the capacity is based, and loading chambor of the weaponized warfare mechanism after disengaging the safety locking unit locatod on the firearm, I will be acquiring tho physical space which your biological presence encapsulates into tho appropriate sighting contraptions affoed to my caliber combat gadgot, so that Imay then exert force from my index finger onto the trigger mechanism of the weapon system and set forth a ballistics reaction which will launch a bullet like projectilo into the general direction of which you aro present with the mbition that said bullet wi penetrate your epidermis and burrow deeply into your vital organ systems, leading to the internal fowing of crimson life liquids. external spatage of said liquids, and severe damage of bi tissues deemed only repairable by an appropriatelytrained surgeon i only find the drawings funny 😭😭 @skrtmemes

i only find the drawings funny 😭😭 @skrtmemes

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Comfortable, Confidence, and Young Metro: If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you @gonna buildameme If you haven't earned the trust of Young Metro, l N will fire a weapon at you If hip hop producer "Young Metro" deems you unworthy of his trust for whatever reason rest assured, I will assault you with a firearm Let it be known that should the circumstance arise in which the musical production technician of the hip hop genre known as "Prepubescent Metropolis" lacks the confidence to comfortably ins a sense of trustworthiness into you due to past dispositions regarding the nature of your character, you have my certainty that I will be arming myself with one of many various caliber ballistic combat firearm weapons and, after loading a magazine which contains the ammunition on which the projectile lethality is based, and loading a single unit of this ammunition into the capacity chamber of the weaponized warfare mechanism after disengaging the safety locking unit located on the firearm, I will be acquiring the physical space which your biological presence encapsulates into the appropriate sighting contraptions affixed to my caliber combat gadget, so that I may then exert force from my index finger onto the trigger mechanism of the weapon system and set forth a ballistics reaction which will launch a bullet- like projectile into the general direction of which you are present, with the ambition that said bullet will penetrate your epidermis and burrow deeply into your vital organ systems, leading to the internal flowing of crimson life liquids, external spillage of said liquids, and severe damage of biological tissues deemed only repairable by an appropriately trained surgeon BEAUTIFUL MORNING

BEAUTIFUL MORNING

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