Can't Prove You Wrong Cause I Do Be Queer

oatmeal cookie haters can’t touch me. i understand things about this world you never will

Muppet Casting Rules

Because you can't just do whatever you want when you're casting the muppets.

Rule #1:You get ONE Human celebrity actor to play a character. This can be a main protagonist, a villain, a joke character, whoever fits best, but you only get one TRUE "celebrity" guest.

Rule #2: You may have multiple celebrity cameos, but their characters must appear only once and then never again, otherwise the celebrity counts as your one true celebrity role.

Rule #3: You may have two additional non-celebrity human actors to play roles where necessary. Generally this should be one man/boy and one woman/girl, but gender is a construct and this rule can be flexible depending on the roles in question.

Rule #4: Muppets should not be cast as multiple characters unless it is a story where two roles are traditionally played by the same actor (ie, the wolf and the prince in Into the Woods). Each muppet should only have one character in the story that they play.

Rule #5: The exception to rule number 4 is Miss Piggy, who may play multiple roles (as she does in Muppet Wizard of Oz) if the roles all make sense for her to play. This is both because she is really the only female muppet of note, and because, let's face it darling, she has the range.

Rule #6: You get ONE Unique Muppet per show. This should only be used once all other possible casting options have been exhausted, but an original muppet may be designed in order to fill a role that's particularly difficult to cast with current existing muppets and the One Celebrity and Additional Humans have already been used.

Rule #7: Background characters can be a mix of human and muppets, the ratio is dependent on the story itself. However, background characters are only really worth mentioning in the case of musicals, when discussing ensemble pieces.

Rule #8: Finally, any and all of these rules are in fact breakable if the end result is funny enough to justify it.

ra ra rasputin something something sour cream

Random goon: Hey boss, were you the one to pick that name as an alias? And why this one?

Red Hood : I used to have another name, before... A long time ago. But that person is dead now. I get to choose for myself now, they can't take that from me. I won't let them.

Goon: Huh.

***

Random Goon: Say boss, why do you never take off your shirt in front of us?

Red Hood: Well uh, I actually have that really fucked scar on my chest and I'm not comfortable with...

Random Goon: Don't worry boss, we get it, you don't have to explain yourself to us.

***

Red Hood, high on some toxin: God, I wish my family...

Random Goon (on boss-sitting duty): why not try reaching out to them?

Red Hood: They would never accept me as I am now... They wouldn't agree with my so-called "life choices". Besides, they don't miss me, they miss the person they think I used to be... I wasn't even a man when I last saw them.

Random Goon: Damn boss, that sucks.

***

And then the goons throw the Red Hood a party on trans visibility day and Jason is so confused he straight up cries.

I feel a little hypocritical saying it when I haven't gone all the way with this method yet, but I highly suggest everyone at the very least learn how to buy/use DIY HRT so they're prepared in case official means are no longer acccessible to them. it is obviously not ideal compared to official means to accessing HRT, and we need to defend trans healthcare. do not interpret this as me advocating for "giving up". but when the healthcare system fails us, DIY is an option that everyone has, and it's important to me that people understand that they have options. spending an afternoon reading up on how you'd go about DIY is free and affirming even if you don't need/want to DIY right now.

May all Dancing Queens have a long reign no matter when they start 💖❤️ keep on grooving 💃🕺

every year after you turn 17 you get further away from being the age of the dancing queen and that’s my least favorite thing about growing up

Opinion | What happened when an Orthodox Jewish congregation went to a gay bar to mourn Orlando

The Orlando attack fell during Shavuot, a joyous Jewish holiday.

When our synagogue heard about the horrific tragedy that took place at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, it was at the same time that we were celebrating our festival of Shavuot, which celebrates God’s giving of the Torah.

As Orthodox Jews, we don’t travel or use the Internet on the Sabbath or on holidays, such as Shavuot. But on Sunday night, as we heard the news, I announced from the pulpit that as soon as the holiday ended at 9:17 p.m. Monday, we would travel from our synagogue in Northwest Washington to a gay bar as an act of solidarity.

We just wanted to share the message that we were all in tremendous pain and that our lives were not going on as normal. Even though the holiday is a joyous occasion, I felt tears in my eyes as I recited our sacred prayers.

I had not been to a bar in more than 20 years. And I had never been to a gay bar. Someone in the congregation told me about a bar called the Fireplace, so I announced that as our destination. Afterward, I found out it was predominantly frequented by gay African Americans.

Approximately a dozen of us, wearing our kippot, or yarmulkes, went down as soon as the holiday ended. Some of the members of our group are gay, but most are not. We did not know what to expect. As we gathered outside, we saw one large, drunk man talking loudly and wildly. I wondered whether we were in the right place. Then my mother, who was with me, went up to a man who was standing on the side of the building. She told him why we were there. He broke down in tears and told us his cousin was killed at Pulse. He embraced us and invited us into the Fireplace.

We didn’t know what to expect, but it turned out that we had so much in common. We met everyone in the bar. One of the patrons told me that his stepchildren were actually bar-mitzvahed in our congregation. Another one asked for my card so that his church could come and visit. The bartender shut off all of the music in the room, and the crowd became silent as we offered words of prayer and healing. My co-clergy Maharat Ruth Friedman shared a blessing related to the holiday of Shavuot, and she lit memorial candles on the bar ledge. Then everyone in the bar put their hands around each other’s shoulders, and we sang soulful tunes. After that, one of our congregants bought a round of beer for the whole bar.

Everyone in the bar embraced each other. It was powerful and moving and real and raw.

After that we moved to the outdoor makeshift memorial service at Dupont Circle. There, too, we did not know what to expect. But as we gathered around the circle, people kept coming up to us and embracing us. One man we met there told us that his daughter sometimes prays with us. Others were visiting from Los Angeles but joined in full voice, clearly knowing the Hebrew words to the song we were singing.

As we were singing, I looked over at some gay members of our congregation and saw tears flowing down their faces. I felt the reality that we are living in a time of enormous pain. But I also felt that the night was a tremendous learning experience for me. I learned that when a rabbi and members of an Orthodox synagogue walk into a gay African American bar, it is not the opening line of a joke but an opportunity to connect; it is an opportunity to break down barriers and come together as one; it is an opportunity to learn that if we are going to survive, we all need each other.

I don’t think this article got very much traction last year, but I wanted to share it again.