This Is So True. You Know Who Your Friends Are When You Move. (And Hiring Movers Is FREAKING EXPENSIVE

100% this.

Reblog if you’ve made amazing friends online and are grateful for their existence

Yeah, this is me. Current events? DAMNIT BLUE RINGS TIME

Reading about current events ;3

The time I was mistaken for a visiting minster

So I was in the hospital today, and a patient said something to me, and we talked. (I stayed in the entryway to her room, not going in.) She told me about her conflicts with one of the nurses, and the guilt that she felt over having to call the techs in so often for help with pain management, and to adjust how she was sitting in her bed (she was a fall risk and wasn't allowed to move around on her own) and how her daughter had been in to see her, up from a small town nearby, and her daughter was very happy that she'd been eating-- chicken broth and Jell-O, but this was a big improvement from what she had been eating. She explained how she'd fallen at her house, and when she falls, she can't get up on her own, and she called for help, and here it was, four days later and she was still in the hospital, to her frustration. She mentioned her arthritis. And also how the doctors had told her that she had pneumonia. She showed me all the bruises on her arms, and told me how they'd had to bring in a special machine to find the veins in her arms so they could get an IV in her. And she told me about how scared she was that she would never be able to just swing her legs over the side of the bed again and get out of it. I told her that she needed to make sure that she kept eating; I wasn't sure what would happen, but she'd never heal if she didn't eat. And some time in there, it came up that she'd mistaken me for a visitation minister. I told her that I was there for another reason, but I was going to be back tomorrow, and I'd say hi. She was clearly uncomfortable, and a bit scared (if not wanting to show it), and wanted someone to talk to. And sometime in there, I had to explain that no, my wife and I were in the hospital visiting the room next to hers. The one my mother is in. I was in the hallway while my wife was talking to mom; she has a bacterial infection, and may be septic, so she's only allowed one visitor at a time, and there are rules that we have to follow to go in at all. So I was waiting outside her room. And maybe talking to a stranger turned out to be easier than worrying. My mother has autoimmune diseases. Not an autoimmune disease, not something as simple and well-known as lupus, but flocks of them-- the rheumatoid arthritis that crippled her older sister, and Sjogren's Syndrome, and obscure ones that only doctors in the Mayo Clinic have even heard of. She's had congestive heart failure, gastric MALT (a form of lymphoma in the stomach), and just had to have all of her teeth removed. She now has a bacterial infection; there could be sepsis. Her memory isn't great, and her husband is a wreck, dealing with this. And I'm keeping it together as best as best I can, somehow. She knows it's medically inadvisable, but that would not stop her from grabbing my hand. She craves touch. She needs contact with people, but feels isolated, now that she can't get around without a walker or a wheelchair. Her hands are so swollen with arthritis, I wonder how much it hurts her to use them. This is the thing about getting older. Everyone else does, too, with all the things that that entails. I guess it's something we all go through, if we're lucky. If we made it this far. If our parents did. If our friends did. But the great truth of life is that it doesn't last forever, and the longer we live, the more we see death around us. The more the people we love die. We're all scared of that. We use indirect language -- James Lacy passed on. The late Doug Atkinson. The fondly remembered Gil Pettigrew. The dearly departed Bonnie Kaufmann. But it's death, and it awaits us all. And it scares me. But we're all going to have to deal with that, sooner or later. I don't know. I'm rambling. But this is the story of how I was mistaken for a visiting minster, anyway. Maybe I should look into that line. I hear it's really rough work, but people need it.

It's a mixed bag, but I'm in.

some trends i am really down for

being nice to people working in customer service

girls in thigh-highs

receiving $400,000

pasta

I mean, yes, but why the hell not have that kind of erotica out there? Different people like different things. It's sure as hell not my job to discern what's acceptable. We all like different things.

seeing straight men be disgusted by booktok smut recommenders has actually radicalized me to the side of booktok smut recommenders. girls your taste may be atrocious but i will never disparage you for exposing mainstream discourse to the concept of soaking through your underwear. spent my whole life listening to men talk about penises it’s about time they get jumpscared by women talking about pussy in crude detail on social media. go forth and goon my warriors

Yeah, absolutely gotta reblog it.

site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition 

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

Reblogged for the tags!

whoops

I mean, yeah. Too true.

YES!

crossposting from twitter because I spent way too much time on this not to

solidarity doesn't mean you get to pick and choose who's "palatable" enough for The Left, you cowardly fucks.

throwing the weirdos and "unrespectable" queers overboard just buys you a little more time to live before the fascists get to you next.

As above, but, I mean, it's happened to me a few times.

Reblog if you’d be okay if your friend came out as transgender

let’s see how many transphobics we can weed out