gonna start liveposting shit perhaps maybe, idk. I’m either about to be the most annoying motherfucker on the internet or I will never be heard from again. exciting prospects!
Young people and old people's complacency and acceptance of autoplay terrifies me if I'm finished a video and another begins playing THAT I DIDN'T CHOOSE I'm already loading my gun
Science needs to put me in a brain scanner so they can see the Evil Lobe light up whenever Im fed an autoplay video or unskippable ad
If people don't admit that alcohol is a drug so help me God I will pour an entire bottle of wine on their hair.
Wine? Drugs. Beer? Drugs. That awful cocktail you made in your dorm room out of leftover coffee and orange juice and tequila? D-d-d-drugs.
This may sound obvious to you but society at large puts alcohol in this removed category away from other drugs. If you tell most wine moms that they have a drug problem they'd be appalled that you'd ever say such a thing. It's just time for humanity to admit that we like doing drugs. Most people's drug of choice just happens to be alcohol.
Also caffeine is a drug but like, it's so baked into our culture because so many people rely on it to get through the workday, which should really say something about our relationship with work but that's not a conversation the powers that be are eager to have
it should be illegal to tow a car as punishment and i’m not even kidding
you park in the wrong spot somewhere. maybe at a friend’s apartment complex, or at a store when you’re actually walking somewhere else, or whatever. they could ticket you—still charge you a fine for parking where you’re not supposed to. but instead, in a far more crippling way than a fine (which is already hard enough for low income people), they call a third party and steal your car. so you have lost your means of transportation, which you will only learn the next time you need your car, because they don’t have any need or care to notify you.
so first, you have to figure out which towing company they used. which you can only do if the place that decided your car was in the wrong spot is still open, or if you can get someone on the phone.
assuming you figure out which company towed your car, which one time took me over an hour on its own because the number on the signs warning about towing in the parking lot was a dead number, you then have to figure out how to get there. without a car. god help you if you don’t have someone in your support network to pick you up or public transportation, because most of the time it’s at least a mile away.
you find a way to get there, you call them to see if your car is even really there, and they tell you they won’t give your car back until you pay them. how much? well, it’s not regulated, so they can pretty much say whatever number they goddamn feel like. i recently got towed by a company infamous in my college town and they charged me a whopping $180–half of my paycheck for two weeks during the school year. when the same company towed my brother last year, and we both have the same sized cars, they charged him $300. they don’t have to justify the charge, they don’t have any itemized receipt, because what are you going to do? not pay it? you have to get to work and you’re already short on time because you had to walk to the goddamn towing place or have someone come get you to bring you there or spend an hour on the phone with different people trying to figure out where the fuck your car was in the first place.
it’s extortionate. it’s absolutely insane that they can, without exaggeration, steal someone’s car and hold it for ransom under the assumption that you will pay anything to get it back, because of the extent to which our society is dependent on cars.
This happened to me so we just abandoned the car cuz we couldn't get it out, which means they sold it off. This was way back in 2016/2017 I think.
And a few days ago a debt collector had us served for the almost $10k we still have on the car.
So yeah not only will they steal it and sell it but you will still also have to pay for it anyway.
Because you parked in the wrong spot for an hour or two.
Me, absolutely blazed and struggling to assemble a very basic hot dog: *muttering to self*
Me, short and well-attuned to sound of mockery: DON'T YOU SHARPLY INHALE AT MY DIFFICULTIES
My roommate, in the other room: then stop making bottom sounds in the kitchen!
its funny how literally the only thing holding this website together is the fact that its kind of old fashioned and not tiktokky or algorithmy and now staff are trying to fuck that up
Everytime I see tumblr try to pull a "let's make it more like this other social media platform" I think of an experiment where Coke did a blind taste test against Pepsi products and found most people prefer the taste of pepsi so they changed their recipe to taste more like pepsi. The product performed terribly. Shockingly, the people who preferred pepsi were just going to drink pepsi and the people who preferred coke didn't want a drink something that tasted like pepsi. People choose social medias and basically anything for what differentiates them from alternatives
Text: My family is in the strange and horrible, but time honored tradition of breeding haunted houses. We know which ghosts get along, which wood best holds hatred, and a thousand flavors of rot.
Oh I could never buy from a breeder, Patricia tells me, which I think is awfully rude of her, but then it was clear twenty minutes in that this date wasn't going to go well when I said the beef bourguignon was good here, and she said she didn't eat beef because of how bad it was for the environment. You can just look at haunted houses a hundred years ago, she goes on, and compared to houses now? All these mansions are so inbred now. Victorian turrets so tall and thin there's not even room for a staircase. Floorboards so creaky and rotted through that they're going to give way before the decade's out.
That's a complete oversimplification of all the factors that go into house breeding, I start to tell her. For starters, we breed specifically for localized wet rot fungus growth that's way less likely to damage the house's structural integrity—
But she doesn't want to hear it. Already she's off complaining about how Hill houses have doorways at such an extreme angle that it's literally impossible to keep a door open, they all eerily swing shut behind you. The whole industry's about breeding fucked-up houses, she tells me, never mind that the doors are a specific feature Hills are bred for, and not indicative of the industry in general. Take the Winchester, she insists. One of the most haunted houses in the world, right? All those ghost stories about endless decades of construction, passages to nowhere, unfinished staircases and doors opening into dead ends, to confuse the vengeful spirits killed by decades of Winchester repeating rifles. None of that's true! she says. None of it!
I know, I know. It's—
The truth is, it was a house designed by a rich old lady who got into architecture, fired the actual architects she consulted with, and decided to do the whole thing herself. I roll my eyes. Patricia remains unbearably, unjustifiably smug. That's all it is, wealth plus incompetence! No one cares about history, about the actual people who died, who lived in this very house once, long ago, what their stories might have been. They just want to see a fucked-up house!
I refrain from saying that everyone knows that about the Winchester. Probably she didn't, until she read it on the internet somewhere, and possibly most people don't, if they're not in the haunted house business. There are so many things I could say besides to prove her wrong. About how the architecture of a house is intimately tied to its psychology. If a door swings shut behind you on its own, that doesn't add to the character of the place? Or how customers don't actually want to see fucked-up houses. When I was young, my uncle accidentally bred a chimera, I tell her. One staircase was inexplicably pitch black marble, slick as bone. He couldn't sell it. It stood out like an eyesore, regardless of how gorgeous the marble was. He slashed the price, tried accessorizing with urns and gold banister fittings, nothing worked. I could sit there on the steps, tracing the white veins with a finger, seeing myself reflected darkly in the marble, like a black pool, like I was the ghost trapped in it. No one loved that house. They thought the staircase was garish. It didn't add up to a harmonious whole.
And what's that supposed to prove? she retorts. Just because people don't want to buy a house with a weird marble staircase, that somehow proves a Winchester isn't fucked-up? The vestigial staircases, the amputated wings—
Don't talk to me about amputation, I want to shoot back. When he finally did manage to sell the house, the first thing the new owners did was renovate. Tore out the spine of the house and had it replaced with mahogany. I cried when I heard what they were planning to do to it. Threw myself on the marble steps and bawled. I couldn't stop thinking of the house mutilated, this huge splintered gash running up to the second floor. People want houses that look like all the other houses, I want to say, but that isn't true. People want houses that are intimidating, but that's not it either. I want to tell her about all the haunted houses I've walked through, narrow decrepit hallways, wide ornately furnished ones, high vaulted ceilings, claustrophobic garrets, down creaking stairways into the basement with rasping pipes or gloomy catacombs or filthy bloodstained tile, always into the dark. People don't care about the ghosts, people want houses they can echo in, I want to say, but I'm not sure how that disproves her point, and besides I've let myself get distracted in all the reminiscing and I'm not sure what we're even talking about now.
That poor house, Patricia sighs, maybe still thinking about the Winchester, or the chimera, or some other house entirely, a presence watching in the darkness, a sigh echoing through the halls.
YES I'M GAY:
faGgot
dykAe (the a is silent)
trannY
i may be stupid
you shut your whore mouth
i won’t hesitate bitch
so called feminists: "actually women are naturally inferior at everything, including quiz game shows, beauty pageants, chess, and video games. we need a society that is segregated so that anyone who would ever have to potential to win against a woman is eliminated. this is actually far better than organizing sports into weight classes or different athletic/skill level based categories that ignore sex, like what wrestling and video/board game tournaments already do. I cannot accept the reality that men and women are the same species. this is actually how we truly protect women. by calling them weak pathetic losers who could never win against even the worst opponent, and preventing them from even playing at all."
