"You stumble into the lair, your torchlight revealing a mass of writhing women entangled by snakes. Slowly, it begins to rise.

You have awoken the Queen Gorgon, and countless eyes begin to turn to you."

I can't speak for every trans person in the South, but for me, it's pretty fucking awful.

Part of it is my area(lot of old white conservatives). They really don't give a fuck. I have had to listen to 10 minute rants about gender politics because they want a pink gender reveal cake.

We did multiple cake variations for Valentine's. All stick figures. We "dared" to put rainbows on a couple of them. We had to get rid of them because people complained about STICK FIGURES under rainbows.

I have to make sure I'm in a safe place to even begin feeling like myself.

They threw so many fucking tantrums. I remember when one subreddit decided to say fuck it and threw a revolt over their nonsense. They acted like having people hate them was a badge of honor and that anyone against them was "a stupid misogynist".

I've done the mug before.

Actually my preferred way for oatmeal. Warms the mug up, and it stays warm for longer!

Fun personal story time:

Back when I was about 12, my dad and his then-girlfriend lived in a condominium. I was over for the weekend, and needed to take a massive shit.

Take said shit, it won't flush. Go get the plunger. Plunge plunge plunge. Try again. Now it's filling up. Plunge plunge plunge. It's still filling. Panic starts to fill my child heart.

My dad was at work, he wouldn't be home for another 10, probably 12 hours. I needed an adult. Wait, his girlfriend is home!

Embarrassed as shit, I go to her and explain the situation. She assures me I'm just freaking out, it's okay, she can handle a clogged toilet!

So she tries. And tries. Then all I hear is "THERE'S SO MUCH POOP! HOW CAN ONE CHILD MAKE SO MUCH POOP?!"

Turned out there was something going on with the sewer line and I just found out in the worst way possible. I wanted to die when I heard her yelling about the amount of shit backflowing. She wasn't even mad about it, just confused as to why it kept coming.

Sometimes you need that good, deep clean only a chunk of bark will give you.

It's just Benny. He comes to snuggle the cat. Harmless, really.

Just... Don't let him near any birds, okay?

Shift is for Sprint. Ctrl is for Crouch.

It's right there, in the manual, page 2.

I think they both have their places.

There's something meditative about going through the actions of actually packing a bowl or rolling a joint. It's methodical, let's you get into a good headspace. It's more a full body experience.

Using a cart or even hitting a dab rig, you're using more tech, there can be more of a convience to it, but you lose out on the time spent with yourself. You lose out on the ritual, the spirit of it. Sometimes it's nice, but sometimes, nah, I want that nice practice, the ritual of preparation my way.

Who are you, and why do you have a picture of my sleep paralysis demons?

If you're in my goddamn walls again, I'm going to start charging you rent.

Look, you spend enough time in a desert wasteland of a planet surrounded by aliens, you're going to develop some different tastes.

The meats.

Zuck likes to smoke meats, and must always have BBQ nearby.