i cant believe this. i cant fucking believe this. i meant to send this to my boyfriend but instead i sent it to my boss right after i told her i was quitting all i wanted to do was make an inappropriate cookie joke but no i got mixed up texting two people at once and literally sent a picture of a chocolate chip cookie captioned “ooh she thique” to the fifty year old suburban mother of two of whom i have nothing but a strictly professional relationship with. after knowing me for almost a year and a half as a hard working and respectable employee this is the last thing i will ever say to her i can never go back to that shop again all because of this god damn cookie blunder What have i Done
They actually have some different needs and you can’t meet them if you don’t acknowledge the difference between species! I need a zebra label so I can correct people’s goofy assumptions about me by telling them that while I have cute ears, a soft nose, will bite when angry, will kick basically anything behind me, and am generally horse-shaped, I’m still not a fucking horse.
Also, yeah, I don’t want to hang out with horses all the time. I want my own people. They know how to be my people. They get me.
In other words: Don’t tell me I don’t have stripes, you Appaloosa-ass motherfucker.
the important thing isn’t to be against labels. The important thing is to not be labeled by others. You don’t let the horses label you as a donkey. If you’re a horse you don’t let other horses decide what a zebra is. You insist they let the zebra define themself.
Also, a zebra isn’t defined strictly in regards to its similarities to or differences from a horse. It’s its own thing.
i hate you private jets i hate you bitcoin i hate you cars that go 200 mph i hate you golf parks i hate you yachts i hate you huge mansions with a pool i hate you luxery resorts i hate you exessive wealth causally killing the planet and using up ressources we all need
“okay but it’s their money! They can decide how to spend it!” Yeah okay but it’s our atmosphere! and water! and no amount of wealth should give you free reign over that!
SOMETIME IN THE LAST WEEK MY SCHOOL PUT UP A LARGE BANNER DEDICATED TO THE :-) EMOTICON
[id: a banner with a huge image of the :-) (smiley face with nose) emoticon captioned “smiley / first emoted here / 19 september 1982 / computer science department / www.cs.cmu.edu/smiley / carnegie mellon.” end id]
happy birthday :-) face
it’s that time of the year again everyone say happy 40th birthday :-)
This is apparently what was contained in the original message that invented the :-) and I’m obsessed with Fahlman’s diction here
my dad, trying to explain the concept of money to me: say you have a sandwich, and i need your sandwich. but i don’t have anything to give you. you’re not just gonna give it to me.
me: i would just give it to you.
my dad:
in elementary school we had. basically an immersive economics lesson that was “playing City,” with different jobs and businesses; it was mostly semi-free time for socializing and selling/buying toys and snacks from each other. one of the lessons we were supposed to learn was the importance of paying a small amount of money into health and/or business insurance, because you had a chance of being hit with the Daily Disaster and a huge bill.
anyway, some kid who didn’t buy insurance got hit with a “medical bill” early on, so he was supposed to be bankrupt and have to sit the rest of the game out. the 8 year olds were not having it and spontaneously invented crowdfunding so he could keep playing with everyone else.
kids who don’t ‘get it’ are right, actually
endlessly, morbidly fascinated by how when you’re a kid you’re constantly having parents, school, religion, media, all drumming it into your head that Sharing Is Good And You Need To Do It, and then you grow up and suddenly they’re all like right never mind all that, this is The Real World and it’s every bastard for himself
she asked me if i believed in god and i told her that when i was four i almost drowned in a public pool and in my panic mistook a stranger for my father. i clawed my way up his leg. four years later he’d send my parents a picture of the scars alongside a tin of cookies. he said, “i hope she’s still okay. i carry her with me. it isn’t every day you save a life. it isn’t every day you feel like you were here for a reason. when it does happen, you have to cherish that memory. for once, i had a purpose. just being there was enough. she tore me open but she taught me a lot about love.”
