love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.
love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.
love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.
love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.
maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.
recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.
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I do think the gateway arch being a secret Athena temple or whatever is interesting but I will always hold a place in my heart for the book reason as to why they went to the arch which was simply "Annabeth really likes architecture and wants to see the Arch really bad so we're going to take some time away from our high stakes, time sensitive quest to do so."
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What each doctor would say when asked "what are your pronouns?":
1st doctor: now what ever are you talking about my dear, oh those radioactive spiders must have gotten to you worse than we thought
2nd doctor: *shrill recorder sounds*
3rd doctor: don't talk about me
4th doctor: who could say, really, I havent the foggiest idea
5th doctor: *gazes wistfully in the distance and sighs* oh,,, you know..
6th doctor: never refer to me behind my back to anyone or I'll beat you to death with a sack of hammers alright
7th doctor: hmm...ah, it's a secret ;)
8th doctor: Who? My what? Huh?
War doctor: was/were
9th doctor: I haven't got any pronouns, on account of all my nouns being amateurs hehe
10th doctor: Hurry! Theres no time for that, everyone is going to die!
11th doctor: I wasn't listening but don't repeat the question I'm busy
12th doctor: no she took my pronouns in the divorce
13th doctor: great question! :) anyways
14th doctor: Hurry! Theres still no time for that, everyone is going to die! Again!
15th doctor: ...
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unpopular opinion but whump should and deserves to be messy
"Yeah duh there's plenty of scenarios with blood and tears--" no. I want more.
I want pink tinted spit dribbling out of Whumpee's mouth. I want strings of saliva connecting between their busted lip to Whumper's tongue. I want drool running down the corners of their mouths because of a gag that makes it difficult to swallow.
I want sweat making Whumpee feel sticky and clammy to the touch. I want their skin to be slick and soaking into their soiled clothes. I want them to squirm in discomfort of a dirty shirt clinging to their back from precious fluids that are going to risk further dehydration. I want their hair to be continuously damp and hanging in thick strands in their face.
I want the scabs to turn white with pus and black with infection. I want old wounds to tear open and bleed a thick red. I want the pink flesh underneath to pulse and quiver, the sight of yellow fat and cartilage. I want blood vessels and capillaries to burst and spread over an area, I want burns to start brown and peel away to a tender pink.
I want Whumpee to vomit out of their nose because their mouth is gagged. I want bile to reek on their clothing and on their tongue. I want them to grow use to the taste of bitter blood and burning chyme forever in the back of their throat. I want them to have to snort and hack to be able to spit out whatever was still caught on their tongue or risk swallowing it down.
I want their tears to remain unwiped and crusting over their eyes. I want snot to smear over their cheeks and leave their lips uncomfortably tacky. I want their face to remain blotchy and red because they just can't get it clean. I want dirt and blood and skin to build up under their fingernails to the point they risk infecting their own wounds if they try and mess with it. I want Whumpee to only be sprayed down with cold water and an old towel, never any soap and never in all the creases of their body.
I want their bodies caked in grime and viscera and bodily fluids. I want Whumper to never give them the luxury of feeling clean and in fact actively making them more filthy each time. I want Whumpee's clothes yellowed and their hair matted and their skin sickly. I want injuries to never properly heal so that the only option is to amputate the necrosis. I want Whumper to force Whumpee to clean up whatever kind of mess they made by licking it off the floor.
I want arteries to spew like a garden sprinkler. I want the exposed roots of pulled teeth to dangle freely in their mouth. I want Whumpee's hair, including all of their body hair, to grow to unruly lengths that are constantly tangled and ingrown. I want them to find comfort in starving because it means there's nothing to risk throwing up. I want them to scrub their skin raw and bleeding, uncaring how much it aggravates their injuries or how the soap stings, the first chance they're given for a real bath.
I want it to be nasty!!!!!!
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my favourite thing about macdennis is their weird domestic habits like wdym they rented all their furniture for more than two decades instead of buying them. they rented the predator movie each time too even though it's their favourite movie that they've watched 30 times in the last two months. mac peels dennis' apples for him and dennis isn't allowed to eat apples with them. they have monthly dinners that they look forward to where they dress nicely and go to fancy restaurants. MONTHLY. mac only knows how to cook boxed mac and cheese and dennis screams at him for this but doesn't consider taking up cooking himself ofc. they make a room in their suburbs house a trash room and paste fresherners all over the room bc they don't know how to just take out the trash like normal people. they need two rooms and two bathrooms at minimum as a home, and bc they can't find that, they'd rather sleep with dee and an old man in one bed in a house with only one bathroom. the fact that basically nothing in their house before the fire belonged to mac, and dennis supposedly hates living with mac and yet still does even though they're pushing 50. they seem to share their finance, and dennis tells mac to stop buying the rock drinks using it. dennis lets mac massage his pecs and dye his hair. they do all this and yet dennis acts like mac is insane for acting like they're a couple.
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