Racist Piece Of Human-shaped Dog Shit: “Our Concentration Camps Weren’t Like The Nazi Concentration

Revenge Utopia

Where diurnals have to keep the noise level down during the day so nocturnals can get some friggin sleep.

Where the housed have a sunset curfew to keep the houseless safe.

Where various public servants are treated "like servants."

Where it's widely considered weird and gross to force someone to eat in a bathroom - including infants.

Where being attracted to someone regardless of their genitals is the default you see depicted, and not liking someone because of their genitalia is something you're fine with, you just don't want it influencing the children.

Where the common myth is that gay or het exists only as a phase before they grow out of liking one gender.

Where Duck Dynasty was cancelled after one season, and Firefly was renewed for ten.

Where the phrase "but they're your family" emphasizes how fucked up something is, not how much more "forgivable."

"Do you need, like, a reason to talk to someone, or how does that work?"

-Trying to remember how to make friends after a particularly long and arduous bout of anxiety.

The real reason I became a vegetarian.

It's Not Just You, Supporting Your Suicidal Loved Ones. They're Supporting You Too.

I'm going to toot my own horn here, indirectly remind others with depression how great their work is, and directly tell those who are not suicidal to appreciate the work we do. Conversations about the relationships between suicidal and non-suicidal people are almost always framed as what *you* are doing to support *us.* That's an important topic, but talking about it to the exclusion of what *we* do for *you* is detrimental. There's an important element that suicidal people are constantly attacked for non-adherence, but when we *do* adhere to this unofficial "rule," we don't get recognition, much less respect and appreciation for it. We work our asses off to keep the struggle going FOR YOU. We don't want the people we care about to be sad. So we continue to live a life that is bad enough to prefer death (or, for many, not prefer death per se, so much as we want something to end, and death is or seems like the only way to achieve ending it). We could be doing this for a single day or several years, and everywhere in between. It's exhausting, mentally and physically. I have never had a job that was as hard as staying alive when I have an illness that literally makes me want to die. It's WORK. I don't have to put that work in. None of us do. If you have an at-risk loved one still hanging on, odds are it's because of the intensely difficult labor they put in to make sure you don't have to deal with loss just yet. Treat them like who and what they are. Treat them like someone who is immensely considerate of you, who routinely sacrifices what they want for you. Treat them like someone who has a hard job with long hours. Treat them like someone who has a chronic illness that is more manageable at some times than others.

I was watching An American Tale with a friend, and to my delight, he pointed out that, as a Native, I can call most people "My Little Immigrant."

Anyone who makes pot candies but doesn't market them as "lollipots" is wasting an opportunity.

*Looks at my own butt in new jeans* "I would hit that."

"People used to be hobbled for leaving their slaver's plantation. That was REAL racism. Things are not as bad as they used to be, so let's stop making a ruckus over nothing with this segregation thing." -Martin Luther King Jr.

Okay, you know that smug gesture of breathing on your nails and rubbing them against the front of your shoulder? Is there already a word for that as a whole? I've never known, and decided five minutes ago to just call it "lapel buffing" unless someone knows a title that was previously known and widely accepted (relatively speaking).

"Pretty pretty rainbow!" -Me "YOU'RE a pretty pretty rainbow!" -My S.O.