Twerlint - 5 Fixations Wrapped Up In A Comfy Sweater

TIL that airplane pilots would announce that Jonas Salk was on board and passengers would burst into applause. Hotels routinely would upgrade him into their penthouse suites.

via reddit.com

~ I see strength. I see ingenuity! Firey Jr., There's no one quite like you ~

a collage for this jelly-filled joy, though I still have to question how he is both jelly-filled and have a whole.

Posted by Jackson Publick one of the creators of the Venture Bros

My child is autistic. He doesn’t do well with change. Even little things that would be meaningless to most people.

For example, his hairbrush was getting old and worn. He had chewed the end of it. The cats had chewed some bristles. It was dirty and dusty. But I didn’t say anything. Because it’s his hairbrush.

Finally, he said he thinks it’s time for a new brush. Ok, I say, we’ll put it on the shopping list, and get one next time we’re in town.

So we go to town and we go to the store. There are many hairbrushes to choose from. He picks one and they even have it in his favorite color. We buy it, take it home, and remove the packaging.

I go to put it on the shelf where the old hairbrush is. Can we throw out the old one, I ask.

That’s when he stops. That’s when he freezes and gets a momentary look of panic on his face. Throw out the old one? That hadn’t occurred to him.

Because here’s the thing. Hair brushing is a part of his morning routine. And not just hair brushing, but hair brushing with that particular brush. To most people, the act of hair brushing is the routine, but not the brush itself. The objects are interchangeable. But not to my child. Not to someone with autism. The brush itself is just as important as the act of brushing.

So I take a breath. I put the old brush down. Think about it, I say. Let me know tomorrow what you want to do with this brush.

He decides. He realizes keeping an old hairbrush is not necessary. But it’s still important to him. So he asks if I can cut off one bristle. To keep. As a memory of the old hairbrush.

I don’t laugh. I don’t tell him it’s silly. I respect his need. I cut off the bristle. He puts it in his treasure box, along side some smooth rocks, beads, sparkly decals, a Santa Claus charm from a classmate, a few other things meaningful to him.

He throws the old hairbrush away himself. He is able to move on, and accept the change.

Couldn’t help but get a little extra cursed.

The lords in black demand.

Willing to get silly goofy. Eheheh. Ohohoho.

i hate my friends / not srs

what’s your ‘thing’ as a friend. i don’t mean like ‘oh im the mom friend’ i mean like what’s the Thing where if one of your friends was looking for a specific interaction they’d message you first. personally i can always be relied upon to get hyped about bugs, literature, and cursed internet images.

I feel right, can’t be changed

Oh people!

we are dying, we are being exterminated, our blood is being shed, no one can stop what we are going through!? To this extent we have become numbers without any value, we are human beings like you, we have dreams and hopes, we dream of a safe present and a bright future, and now our only dream is to survive with our lives and to find a morsel to satisfy our hunger

please donate what you can to help us survive

Ramsay’s misadventures outside of the main plot /j

Aka. IKEA photo shoot fun time