And I Love You Because You Loved Him :(

just came up with a really good 4 word cooking horror story but idk if you guys are ready for it

Oh how it hurts my costumer heart to see the tech guy put white silk on the dirty black stage

Of course you think I'm cool, this personality was tailored with you specifically in mind...

"oh, if you make out with friends, you could ruin the friendship" so who am i supposed to kiss? my enemies? get a grip

Alright this is rly sad but here goes. I started doing my once-in-awhile bot purge from my followers list. And. I used to be able to just quickly scan and see the bots. They were the ones with default icons and generator-sounding names like "noun-girl-827". And if you weren't sure, you could click on the blog and it would be immediately obvious it was a bot because there's either just bad porn click bait, or nothing there.

Well. This time I had to give up immediately because I got like ten followers down the list and was having immense trouble figuring out who's a bot and who's real. Never ever used to see this but like 5/10 of the first few followers I checked on had just totally empty blogs. It wasn't until I'd already blocked 2 - assuming bots bc empty blogs - that I thought to check if they had any likes. And bam! There it was. All of their user activity.

We have people on this website now who have never reblogged a single post.

Y'all, I'm sure you're sick of seeing "you have to reblog thing" but you literally have to reblog things. That is how this website works. You understand that, right? How do you think the post you hit "like" on got in front of you? It wasn't because you liked enough things and Tumblrs algorithm figured out what you like enough to hand it to you. It's because you followed someone, a human person, who reblogged that post. And it came from another person who also reblogged it.

You are killing this website by refusing to interact with it in the way that makes it better than the other websites you ran from to come here.

Anyway, I'm sure you're all nice people, but I'm not going to play the "bot or not" game if you have an empty blog I'm going to block you.

Why do I care more about the marauders than I do the actual main characters of the series

Tell me why, when I introduced my family to discord (because time limits on zoom are dumb), they decided that's apparently the only way that I can be contacted from now on

Did text messaging and phone calls suddenly disappear from existence and I didn't notice

I think the discussion that made time loops my brand was entirely confined to Twitter, so since this website has gone all in on time loops of late, here, have the story:

Several years ago, I suggested to my wife that we have an agreement that if either one of us ever came to the other and said that we were in a time loop, we just accept that it's real and get on with things, thereby eliminating the frustration of the looping partner having to convince the other one every day.

She REFUSED. Because "time loops aren't real."

Well, we had this debate on and off for several years, and finally, she got tired of me bringing it up and agreed. So now we have a deal: We'll believe each other, but if I ever do it as a joke, the deal's off.

It turns out that the reason that my wife has been refusing to make this agreement is less that time loops aren't real, and more that she's concerned I would come to her one day, claim to be in a time loop, and then the next day declare the time loop had finally broken. And since that is, of course, exactly what it would look like to her if I really was in a time loop, she'd have no way of proving it.

I explained to her that she's completely right, that would be incredibly funny, but I'd never do it because there's a part of me that is legitimately nervous that I will actually end up in a time loop one day, and I need her to believe me.

i love it when you read multiple works from a writer and you start being able to pick out the things that stick with them. like the themes they keep thinking about, that can’t be satisfied with just one poem or novel or story. or the motifs they like to reuse and recycle throughout their works like an extradiagetic thread. it’s like drawing a map through a writer’s collection of all the things that keep them up at night

There are three actresses in my show who switch off playing the same character and they all have their own costume. One of the girls cannot grasp the concept of grabbing HER costume and not one of the others. Today I was standing right next to her and having a conversation with her when she realized that she had grabbed the wrong slippers (yet again). And instead of switching shoes, like a normal human would do, she proceeded to put HER OWN slippers into the bag of the OTHER GIRL.

I literally had to put my hand up to stop her and say "I need you to wear your own shoes." Then this bitch had the audacity to act surprised when I showed her that the shoes were, in fact, labeled with her name