I would make a terrible witness/accomplice to a crime, because my brain does not compute what other people are saying like 50% of the time. Someone will say something to me offhandedly and I’ll have to ask them to repeat themself like 5 times. So if the police showed up asking me about someone’s criminal plan, I’d be completely useless because there is a high chance that I was in “smile-and-wave” mode while they were explaining it to me.
Here is a list of books that Project 2025 is looking to ban and the reasons for each.
These are the books they are afraid of. These are the books we need to be reading.
The one good thing to come from the Velma show is that now everyone is watching and appreciating the master piece that is Scooby-Doo Mystery Incorporated
Just a reminder not to publically on big websites (especially not Twitter or tik tok) say where you’re torrenting stuff from cause that’s a GREAT way to get that specific avenue shut down
i am plagued by silly character loving thoughts
I’ve discovered, during my many firefly-catching excursions, that if I use my phone flashlight to see them, they will flee rapidly away from me.
I was going to mock this, as it’s basically a giant firefly, but then I realized that if an enormous human randomly spawned from the dead of night and began chasing me, I too would Usain-fucking-Bolt in the opposite direction.
See also, "We're in a drought; conserve water!" Meanwhile, bottled water companies and golf courses for rich folk empty the aquifers.
old ladies love red hood NOT because he helps them cross roads and seems like a charming young man. they love him because at the end of the night, when he's crouched over catching his breath, head in hands in what he thinks is an empty street, or hobbling down roads trying to get home quickly despite sustaining large injuries, he reminds them of their grandsons.
he gets invited into their homes, and knows better than to decline. he'll sit down and wait to be berated by the old lady at the other side of the kitchen who's putting together a quick meal for him. he'll take off the helmet, and that's when she starts, not telling him to stop what he does, but to take better damn care of himself. he'll apologise and promise, as he's fixing himself up with her first aid kit.
as he leaves she'll still be making firm, although loving remarks at him, but he smiles underneath the helmet because he's being treated like a man, not a hero, a villain, or any of the other inhuman titles he's picked up over the years.
They/Them | “You may forget, but let me tell you this: someone, in some future time, will remember us.” - Sappho
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