I Like Seeing The Toe Beans

One time someone told me that my spirit animal was a possum and I didn’t really think about it until I found myself rummaging through trash cans

So uh, while we’re here wanna see some of my pride flag designs?

Tomboy redesign (you have to admit, that brown DID NOT go with the blue):

Multigender tomboy + femboy (two versions. personally, I like the flip flop one):

Fluid tomboy:

Fluid femboy (yeah, the tomboy one is smoother):

Fluid femboy + tomboy (for the cool people like me who get to be BOTH):

Some guy told me I am compensating for having a small dick today but the fact that I have a dick at all is news to me.

I’ve almost maxed out my stats!

Whoever the FUCK is yodeling outside my house at 7 AM needs to STOP IMMEDIATELY.

As it turns out, my mom is really bad at the Pokémon TCG.

I’m queerphobic now, guys /j

They probably think they’re special with those dice dice, huh? Well think again.

Oh boy do I have some weird dice for you:

Dice inside a dice

Round dice (yes it does actually work)

And tiny dice with a quarter for scale

I hope you have enjoyed this sampling of weird dice from my dice collection!

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I was attempting to get the plate covering the bobbin compartment off to clean out the compartment on my sewing machine because it’s been jamming and it won’t catch the thread on one side, but of course one of the screws is too tight so the screwdriver, which is specifically made for this sewing machine and came with it, launches out of my hand and into the nearest trash can, which was right behind me. Now I am rooting through the trash desperately looking for my screwdriver.

I have two questions for life.

First of all, why do these whimsical situations, that would normally only appear in a cartoon and end with the character rooting through garbage cans, always happen to me?? This is the second time in the past two months when I have had to root through garbage cans because of a chain of events with such a low probability of happening.

Second of all, WHO THE FUCK MAKES THE SCREW THAT TIGHT?

At camp, the riflery counselor would ask permission before touching someone to adjust their grip or position, which I thought was great because not everyone is comfortable with being touched (like me).

Ironically, the only person he forgot to ask was me, the only kid in the unit who was uncomfortable with being touched.