They hold no power here.
We have Jokers biggest boner, after all.
I also use Fae/Faer alongside She/Her. Transfemme Genderfae and proud!
They hold no power here.
We have Jokers biggest boner, after all.
He kinda threw me off at first, but I’ve grown to enjoy his aggressive style of education. It feels like all I’ve really needed is someone yelling “You’re a fucking dumbass, and so am I, so let’s learn some shit together so we can burn it all the fuck down”.
My disappearance will be my sign.
Out in the middle of nowhere with goats, cats, and Great Pyrenees.
I hate myself for being the one to do this.
That wouldn’t help.
The obliviousness runs deep.
When your rallying cry is “WHO LIKES SHORT-SHORTS‽”
I feel like mine might be odd, because it’s more an emotional response than anything else, but it’s been probably close to 20 years.
Wolfs Rain has flaws, and I’ll be the first to admit that, but nothing manages to hit me in the same way as it does every time. I will binge the whole thing in a night with no regrets.
They did fucking stellar work with the character growth. I normally hate the “you need to give it a couple seasons” kind of thing, but Venture Bros did so well to have a moment where you feel the tone start to change, and somehow, the goofier start ends up working in the shows favor.
I will never look at a Homies the same way again.
It’s amazing to see how many of us are starting our journeys later in life. I’m in a similar boat, lived 30-odd years as a man and with the pushes that have happened, both positive and negative, figured out I was Genderfae. If it wasn’t for trans spaces and issues becoming more prominent, I don’t think I ever would have stopped thinking “There’s just something wrong with me”.
May all our journeys end in happiness.
“Getting the Plant light was the hardest. Y’know this thing only picks up on dandelions?”
Don’t trust any website that asks for your bones.
It’s secretly run by the rambling gambling skeletons. No one wants to play euchre anymore, so they had to take a different angle.
“My decorated buttocks gathers all the grain to the silos.”
“My magical electric sex heart pants!”
Assuming no pain killers, the femur snapper.
Hell, even with painkillers.
This isn’t a cave, it’s an alcove.
I still want one, but have already accepted I’d never be allowed to use it because of cats.
Oh.
Then I’ll try to hit them twice as hard. Gotta correct those poor life decisions.
Oh, I thought it was produced by the creepy kids who hide out in the corn fields. Guess I should maybe stop hitting them with my car as they walk out.
They have human hands because flippers pose a difficult problem when trying to choke a motherfucker out.
Not even just natural disasters, either. I’ve seen people(across the 'net and, sadly, in person) lump Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama together like we all voted the exact same way, like it’s our faults that laws and restrictions get made.
So many of us have fought, tried changing minds, voted in our own favor, fucking tried, and guess what we got? Told it’s our faults. Told by our “leaders” that we’re practically better off dead in their eyes. Watched them fight to make us as miserable as possible, every way they can, and have had to etch our own niches wherever we can.
It’s absolutely demoralizing. People on both sides want to keep screaming you’re doing it wrong when all we’re trying to do at this point is fucking survive long enough to maybe get to smile once as ourselves before we die.
Isn’t that what some of those “Auto-Battlers” claim to be?