Latest Posts by sweetestpunk - Page 5

I think tumblr is hunting me down. I keep seeing posts about my college town. I'm telling every bitch I meet there that I like their shoelaces. I will not be assassinated by the tumblr mafia today.

Idk why I bother to be on time to work. Gimme a raise then I'll pull up at 5:50am and wait 20 minutes to be let in.

currently being put through the horrors (ao3 being down)

*does the anime character with glasses thing*

not gonna say it again

chai tea (tea tea)

naan bread (bread bread)

sharia law (law law)

URGENT TIME SENSITIVE

Hey, It's your friendly neighborhood Black goth dyke stuck in a sticky situation :(

I'm in between jobs rn and although my mom is going back to work soon, our bills are steady approaching and our savings have been exhausted.

Between rent, the internet bill, and our phone bill things have been piling up faster than we can save to pay for it and it's been stressing both of us out.

Please share this around and or give if at all possible. Even a dollar helps.

Venmo: so_goth_shes_black

cashapp: cheyennepeppers23$

Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/thottybrucewayne

paypal: spicysobanoodle@gmail.com

goal: 0/2539.78

Another spider-verse one i forgot to post here!!!! glad to be back to drawing backgrounds for myself

Certain words can change your brain forever and ever so you do have to be very careful about it.

Ok just for curiosity reasons

I genuinely hate to say this but please reblog if you hit the like button for a larger sample size thank you <3

I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

Cat Poll

Find the nearest cat (it doesn't have to be yours) and have them answer this poll my cats made

Cat Poll

Find the nearest cat (it doesn't have to be yours) and have them answer this poll my cats made

I have something I want to check, but the answer may scare me. Alright, here it goes:

Please reblog, though I'm pretty sure it's gonna be pretty conclusive regardless of sample size.

my friend liz downloaded some free audio software a few months ago to do something and now every time she joins a call a female voice says “trial. trial.” and liz doesn’t remember the name of the software or know how to stop it and she doesn’t want to

Happy Pride!

god this tickles me

(OP's tiktok here)

part of being an ally to trans men is not being a dick to cis men for their appearance btw

A variety of possible fur patterns for Dutch and English rabbits respectively from William E. Castle’s Contributions to the genetics of the domestic rabbit (1932).

Full text here.

If you can’t reblog this, unfollow me now.

since the old version of this post was flagged for 'adult content'...

reblog this post if your account is a trans safe space or owned by a trans person!

along with that, reblog if your account is a trans non-binary spectrum safe space or owned by someone on the trans enby spectrum!

Also reblog if you vote pls like why do y'all never reblog anything

being so fr when I say that transmisogyny has put feminism back like 50 years

"Where has all the genuine self-expression gone? Now what used to be authentic subculture is turned into a performance of Aesthetic!" so many posts exclaim, usually concluding that the problem is Capitalism.

I don't disagree entirely, but. The problem is that y'all are so deathly fucking afraid of things Cringe, Weird, and Uncool that anything unmarketable, subversive, or oddball enough to be "genuine subculture" is gross and unacceptable to you.

Been scouring to find this particular pic and finally found it going thru my goth Pinterest board

itch.io

Hard Hat Required: Butch Stories by Iron Cutler

Short spec-fic stories about the butch body. For mature audiences.

My first self-published story collection is now available on itch.io! Hard Hat Required is six small stories about the butch body—the myriad forms they can take, and the relationships we have with them. Most are speculative fiction, and most are pretty spicy. Give it a read, and please enjoy!

No more sterile white boxes.

people who enter my home will be shown an assortment of objects