Yo yo yo, I'm Zibby! 20 y/o, absolute nerd, she/her but you can change it for a joke ~-~ PFP by @ceilingstars
269 posts
Latest Posts by spiderwebsinzibbyshead - Page 4
i love tumblr because you see someone losing their mind and you’re just like “omg me tooooo!” *reblog*
vetted palestinian fundraisers from my inbox, part 2
posting another roundup for people who have been in my inbox in the past 5-ish days
@ahmed79ss - fundraiser - vetting (link to 90-ghost's reblog is now broken though)
@ayahabil - fundraiser - vetting
@savemohammed - fundraiser - vetting
@supportgaza - fundraiser - vetting
@sarahabohwidigaza - fundraiser - vetting (vetted by association with @/supportgaza above)
@anas12b - fundraiser - vetting
@tareqayyad2 - fundraiser - vetting
@ahmed-fathi-gaza - fundraiser - vetting
@etafetaf1234567 - fundraiser - vetting
THEYRE BACK
The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season
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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.
...I might need to back up a bit.
My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.
They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.
Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.
My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.
Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.
It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.
It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.
---
If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.
It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.
My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.
On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.
Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.
---
As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.
The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.
Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.
I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.
You all know this song already.
...but in case you've forgotten the tune:
Yeah.
The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.
It does not play this song at a normal volume.
Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.
Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.
...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.
---
So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.
It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.
There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.
Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.
Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.
I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.
The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.
It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.
I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.
While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.
Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.
I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.
I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.
Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.
It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.
I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.
The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.
We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.
I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.
The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.
I look down at myself.
In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:
Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.
Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.
The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.
A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.
The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.
The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.
My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.
A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.
The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.
I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:
The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.
This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.
The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.
I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.
"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"
The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.
$6.66
"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.
I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.
It also turns on the music player.
I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.
Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.
---
If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon
i just said out loud, “you know what really gargles my goyles?” and then i had to just sit there and accept that i now live in a world where someone said those words in that order. and now so do you. what a tangled web we weave
Crying, sobbing, your art is so good. I hope you never lose your love for drawing (´；ω；｀)
🥹 aaaaaa thank you do much !! I am sure i will never lose my love for drawing ! But I know that one day I will change fandom 😭
It happens I do original art ! Here a painting I made yesterday !
"how can m/f ships be good-" first of all through the power of bisexuality anything is possible so write that down. second of all if we start othering ships based on gender and nothing else we're no better than the opposition. third of all you need to watch more addams family
UPDATING SOON!
Vetted fundraiser masterpost-masterpost
TRY MY NEW DONATION ASK GAME!!! (COMING SOON)
This is a collection of links to various posts concerning fundraisers I've vetted and instructions on how to submit fundraisers to me. These are primarily ones for Ghazzan families although some fundraisers for Sudanese families are also listed (I'm more familiar with my own country's politics and dialect and am more capable of vetting fundraisers for Palestinians as a result).
I know that people do not like clicking on links, but please actually look through the posts / Google Sheet and choose a fundraiser to donate to. Please.
Instructions on how to submit a fundraiser. (for those not Ghazzan) Paused تعليمات لتقديم طلب توثيق و نشر حملات التبرعات الخاصة بالغزاويين و عائلاتهم (للغزاويين فقط) فاتح!
Google doc list compiling vetted fundraisers.
List of fundraisers for my direct contacts from Ghazzah & Sudan. - PRIORITY.
Unvetted but highly likely legitimate fundraisers.
Additional fundraisers for various purposes - (TO BE UPDATED)
About the targeted harassment campaign against Palestinians on tumblr, from August 2nd to August 3rd 2024. Now extended to August 7th because of writing-prompt-s' and badjokesbyjeff's accusations and slander.
im sick of signing in to things
I like how Sunday's playable path is Harmony haha
Assimilated like Ena
The tragedy of Dr. Ratio as a character is that all of his major appearances are very deceptive at first glance (allthough I suspect he actually prefers it this way).
On Herta station: Oh no, this rude asshole wasted valuable time interrogating poor TB who knows nothing instead of helping. Actually, he already saved everybody and tried to help TB realize what's going on so that they could defeat the culprit and take all the credit.
The Final Victor: Oh no, this murderous prick threatened Aventurine with a gun! Actually, he tried to wrestle the gun out of his hands to prevent him from shooting himself.
Penacony: Oh no, this jerk was so mean to poor Aventurine and then just betrayed him! Actually, they've been working together, and all of it was a part of their plan.
On the Radiant Feldspar: Why is he even there, just to whine about how he detests noisy gatherings? Actually, he's been helping Screwllum with Divergent Universe.
One of these is accurate for me, plz tell me I'm not alone
Yeah, I've always found DNI's strange. I understand the logic behind it, but ultimately you're better off taking action yourself to keep out unwanted company. It takes less time to determine if you want to block somebody than to wait for them to go away, and it's a LOT more effective.
"xyz DNI" blocking people is YOUR job, sorry. You cannot ask the world to simply move around you, you have to take control of your online experience or you will be fucking miserable forever. Most people don't read your bio/pinned/carrd before touching the posts that cross their dash anyways.
Also maybe worry less about if someone who likes something you hate clicks on your tumblr post. I promise it is not that fucking serious.
Also-also if you have this DNI because your friends/moots said or implied you have to otherwise you're somehow Bad and/or will be punished by them if you don't, that's kind of fucked and maybe you need less controlling friends.
We don't talk enough about how the Post-Shower Drying Off segment sucks
putting a polaroid of you on my unhinged conspiracy board and linking you with a red string to a post it note that just says "gay"
My small Harbinger series!
How to show emotions
Part VI
How to show insecurity
not holding/breaking eye contact
fidgeting
crossing their arms
trying to cover up their body
making themself seem smaller
playing with their hands
hiding their hands in their pockets
holding their head down
blushing
clearing their throat
biting their nails
biting their lips
nervous laughter
stuttering
How to show being offended
stiffening up
hard line around the lips
frozen stare
narrowing of the eyes
turning their head to the side
quickening heartbeat
turning red
making themself bigger, ready to fight
How to show compassion
gentle and soft smile
relaxed facial features
softening of their eyes
openly showing how they feel
leaning towards the other one
nodding along, not directly interjecting, but encouraging
deep breaths inbetween
gentle touches to comfort
How to show being pleased
big smile/grinning
laying head slightly to the side
moving one shoulder up
pursing their lips while smiling
very open body language
leaning back
Part I + Part II + Part III + Part IV + Part V
If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰
It's suddenly getting chilly and the leaves are turning red! I'm so ready to snuggle up with my huskies and drink hot tea
