Okay So This Post Breached Containment I Think So I Feel The Need To Clarify, Because The Vibes In The

i am nooooot locked the fuck in. im locked the fuck out. call the locksmith

One of the biggest issues of moving to England as a person who is Ukrainian AND neurodivergent is not knowing how to answer the small talk question of "how are you", but today I was reminded that Ukrainian blessed me with the phrase that roughly translates as "living is hard but dying would be a pity" and can we please naturalise it so I can use it all day every day

Okay so yesterday I saw someone mention that during the two months that I was away they started selling lime and chili flavoured yoghurt back in Ukraine. I repeat, LIME AND CHILI.

Obviously I had to task my boyfriend with acquiring it so that I can try it the moment I step off the train at the end of the month. Also, obviously, I googled it. Here's what I saw:

Okay, sure. Some choices have been made with the colours (I find the purple atrocious but I'm not good with colours so who knows). But wait, the "flamin' hot" banner reminds me of something. Haven't I seen it before?

Yep. I looked it up - Чудо and Doritos are both owned by PepsiCo, and PepsiCo straight up recycled the Flamin' Hot banner.

I really, really don't know what to make of this.

Also as I type this I realised that they also recycled the fucking horrible purple colour. This is torture.

At the end of the month I'm trying the Doritos-flavoured yoghurt, apparently. Watch this space for a review.

Shout-out to our creative writing tutors at uni who chose THIS header image for our graduation project's moodle page:

Yeah. They get it.

Sources: Gut, My. Something is Terribly Wrong, vol 136, 2025.

Oh also in case anyone was wondering, they said that if I'm that ungrateful then I deserve to go back and get bombed. Not really anything to do with the sentiment of the post, just a thing that actually happened.

I'll never forget how in 2023-ish there was a post on Instagram about the difficulties Ukrainian refugees face in the UK and I commented with my own experience to support the sentiment, and in response a helpful™ person from the US told me to just move to the US, what did I expect when refugee-ing to the UK, the US would've been much better. And I might have been at least nice about my response had they not been extremely condescending, but they infuriated me so much that I said, "I would feel safer in Ukraine now than in the US any day".

Anyway this has been aging rapidly since I said it first and it horrifies me how true this rings today.

Move to Ukraine, at least we have affordable healthcare!

As an Enlightened Centrist, I don’t believe William Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare, nor was it Bacon or Hamm or whoever else.

The true author of Shakespeare was another guy who coincidentally was also born in Stratford-upon-Avon and who was, by a curious twist of fate, also named William Shakespeare.

I am going to [remembers that jokes about suicide are detrimental to myself and others] Scarborough Fair.

I mentioned tomato juice in my last post, so here's a tomato juice story for your amusement.

Scene: London, UK.

Time: late 2024.

Dramatis personae:

Me, a Ukrainian, craving tomato juice like it's the only thing that can save my life.

My beloved flatmate, also a Ukrainian, going through a chronic illness flare that causes horrible brain fog.

Flatmate: I'm going to the Polish shop. Do you want anything?

Me: I do have a request, but I feel like you'll refuse to have THAT in our fridge.

Flatmate: ???

Me: Tomato juice. I'm craving tomato juice. I want tomato juice SO BAD.

Flatmate: ...only because I love you.

An hour later, my beloved flatmate enters the kitchen with a bag full of Polish groceries. I salivate at the thought of my tomato juice and run up to them.

Flatmate: Okay so I was picking between spicy and not spicy, and decided that you would want it not spicy. Here.

They proceed to hand me the following:

Me: I mean, I'll give you that, it's not spicy.

Flatmate considers terminating the lease on the spot.

Exeunt.

I debated posting this on here because this sounds SO MUCH like a Tumblr fake story from 2012 that I don't think anyone will believe me but I promise you, before we get into this, that it did happen and not a single person clapped.

One of my origin stories as the person I currently am is going to appeal my results for a English language competition in like 10th grade (of Ukrainian school, so ~15 yo) because most of the marks I was deducted was because of my handwriting (hi undiagnosed dysgraphia) and them being unable to decipher what I wrote. So I come, the examiner and I sit at a desk and go through all my "mistakes", and she goes:

"See? You said "we don't know of it". It should be "about"."

And I swear to you, I went:

"Actually, Shakespeare used "of" in "Hamlet". "And makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of"."

And then I pulled up the poetry foundation with To Be or Not To Be, showed it to her and she gave me the fucking point, too stunned to speak.

I had learned TBONTB by heart by reading it out loud to myself in the dark in my room at night multiple times in a row because I have always been sane and was never autistic actually.

It's such a loss that I wasn't on Tumblr as a teenager. I was grown in a lab to have a Tumblr blog that I will regret when I'm older.