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noctiscorvus: squirenonny: anaryllis: uncommonbish: I can’t count how many times men have humiliated me by “IT’S JUST PERIOD” when looking up this article for clarification i found this one that points out that period pain is actually typically MUCH WORSE than heart attacks - as heart attacks more commonly have dull pains  and, interestingly: Period pain happens mostly because of substances called prostaglandins, Gunter explained in the post. They’re released from the lining of the uterus and make it contract. And during these period contractions, pressure on the uterus can be just as high as it is during the “pushing” stage of labor, she added.“So if you need an analogy to describe period pain,” Gunter wrote, “use labor or cutting your finger off without an anesthetic.” “If you are waiting for terrible, excruciating chest pain to tell you that you are having a heart attack, well, you are going to miss the heart attack,” Gunter wrote. “Heart attacks often produce vague symptoms or mild pain, that is why many people ignore them … In addition, more than 40% of women have no pain with heart attacks. It would be dangerous for women to think that a heart attack should be at least as bad as their menstrual cramps.” ^^^ Important point from that article. It sounds like a dramatic comparison. “Cramps are as bad as heart attacks?!” But not only does it still actually downplay the pain many menstruating people feel, it increases the risk that those same people will ignore a heart attack because it doesn’t hurt enough to worry them. Can I add on that a lot of women think they’re suffering from menstrual cramps and do their best to go about their day when in reality their appendix is seconds away from bursting? This happens a lot. Seriously. : noctiscorvus: squirenonny: anaryllis: uncommonbish: I can’t count how many times men have humiliated me by “IT’S JUST PERIOD” when looking up this article for clarification i found this one that points out that period pain is actually typically MUCH WORSE than heart attacks - as heart attacks more commonly have dull pains  and, interestingly: Period pain happens mostly because of substances called prostaglandins, Gunter explained in the post. They’re released from the lining of the uterus and make it contract. And during these period contractions, pressure on the uterus can be just as high as it is during the “pushing” stage of labor, she added.“So if you need an analogy to describe period pain,” Gunter wrote, “use labor or cutting your finger off without an anesthetic.” “If you are waiting for terrible, excruciating chest pain to tell you that you are having a heart attack, well, you are going to miss the heart attack,” Gunter wrote. “Heart attacks often produce vague symptoms or mild pain, that is why many people ignore them … In addition, more than 40% of women have no pain with heart attacks. It would be dangerous for women to think that a heart attack should be at least as bad as their menstrual cramps.” ^^^ Important point from that article. It sounds like a dramatic comparison. “Cramps are as bad as heart attacks?!” But not only does it still actually downplay the pain many menstruating people feel, it increases the risk that those same people will ignore a heart attack because it doesn’t hurt enough to worry them. Can I add on that a lot of women think they’re suffering from menstrual cramps and do their best to go about their day when in reality their appendix is seconds away from bursting? This happens a lot. Seriously.

noctiscorvus: squirenonny: anaryllis: uncommonbish: I can’t count how many times men have humiliated me by “IT’S JUST PERIOD” when look...

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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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ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.: ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.

ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon m...

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