Wow, rude.

Honestly, the visible branding. I don’t wear visible branding or any sort of language or text on my clothes. No logos, no words, no designs. Just outlandish cuts and interesting style ideas, all without paying to sell someone else’s product.

Damb, how could I ever say no? I love going to Red Flags at Mishap Marriage!

My entire workflow is in Mint now. I’m not going back.

One time I took an illicitly-offered adderall.

The silence in my mind was amazing, the calm was as far as I could reach. I could summon a thought into my otherwise blank workspace, and it would stay there until I was done with it, never being jostled or shoved by unbidden thoughts.

It was lovely.

My neurotypical friends were jazzed about being high; I felt normalcy for the first time.

I am sorry the parade I spent seven years planning for you wasn’t up to your standards. With the rest of the earth’s money, I will try once more. I need to train another five hundred thousand dancers.

There’s a selfie in my recent post history where I don’t look great either, but at least there’s joy in my cold, dead, Rowling-body-shaming heart.

Thanks for assigning a bunch of opinions to me. I really needed that. You’re a hero. No really, literal giant trophy and a huge parade for you. Blue Angels tearing up the sky, confetti, endless celebrations, and a confession of a deeply felt yet heretofore unmentioned marriage proposal from The Rock himself, while busty women in impossible bikinis hand you many briefcases full of money as you’re standing there on your parade float. You’ve served your country well. There’s twelve Nobel Prizes waiting for you after your victory parade where you single-handedly saved the global economy and the environment because you assigned a bunch of opinions to me. From the bottom of my heart, and from the tears of all seven billion people watching your parade on television, I deliver my deepest heartfelt gratitude for those assigned opinions.

I’m not “pretending to be a body language expert,” I’m a fucking jabroni on the internet.

How about this?

She looks like is a fucking ghoul.

EDIT: also every picture of her should show her feeling miserable because she is not allowed to feel joy.

She looks like a ghoul. No one truly happy has eyes like that.

Hi, I’m trans, now I can’t board a plane cause they’ll seize my passport and identification for reasons they call “fraud.”

But you do you. :/

He agrees with Trump on transphobic bathroom issues.

I wear my skin and use it to keep my organs inside. I don’t wear makeup and only add an aftershave lotion. I still look a little youthful at forty.

manul

Life is Strange was perfect.

I also went to Arcadia Bay in real life, and found the most sleepy, boring town with a really good fish and chips joint. Aside from the good food, I came to appreciate more why Max and Chloe yearned to leave.

They’re a disability aid that helps me interpret my own face when I look in a mirror. Don’t have strokes, kids.

Old age is a privilege and a skill.

Oh no, he’s one of mine.

Fuck.

Aaah! Ah fuck, oh god! Aaaaaaah!

I’m a rehabilitation center for badly raised women, thank you very much.

I can fix her.

I remember looking at his twitter recently, it was a sad state of affairs, him shilling for whatever product would have him.