#why do i keep collecting men who are 75% legs

[eusuntgratie]

from dumos insta story 6.23.23 (shared from kayla)

#okay i realized i never posted this #but i need it #LOOK HOW CUTE #also this man is so much legs #why do i keep collecting men who are 75% legs #brayden is so big! and so cute 🥹🥰 #also im really sorry but #hands #i am who i am #brian dumoulin #fave dumo #😍🥺😭🥹🥰 #dumo in a backwards hat will never not ruin me

[acousticcheeze]

Here's my 100 questions for my OC thing!

My OC is Laureli, a 6'2 Altmer trying to make his way in Skyrim

1. What do they smell like?

Whatever alchemy ingredient he’s been working with, really. Lavender is what he smells like most often, though.

2. What is their voice like?

A smooth-ish medium pitch Altmer voice that has elements of calm and irritation.

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Helping others through his alchemy. He wants to improve medicine for Skyrim, as well as all of Tamriel.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

He had a whole scientific presentation one year that ended up being completely wrong. He got humiliated in front of everyone.

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

Winces at it, curses, and then gets to treating the problem.

6. What do they like to wear?

Functional clothes that keep him warm and allow him to carry alchemy ingredients in his pockets.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

The relationships with some of the people he’s helped over the years. It gave him a sense of purpose and fulfillment knowing that he could help people, save people.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

He’s an alchemist...in Skyrim...I’m pretty sure there are a few contenders… (giants toe, large/small antlers, ectoplasm, the list goes on)

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Normal side sleeper. Prefers to sleep on his left side.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

Horker stew. It’s actually way better than he thought it would be.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

If what he’s doing is good enough. He has big problems with perfectionism that still persist with him even after leaving Summerset.

12. How do they like to dress?

Robes with an alchemy enchantment and a hood.

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

He tries to shake them off, but has panic attacks and whatnot sometimes as a result of them.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Is completely shattered by it. He’s dealt with this so many times before, though, so he keeps his cards close to his chest.

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Creating potions that help much more than the average cure disease potion would, as well as all sorts of other concoctions. Also, he’s created a sort of disinfectant and is working on a hand sanitizer.

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Cranky, cranky, cranky.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Drunk? Oh no no no no Laureli does not drink (and even if he did he’d be out real quick)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

He isn’t really into music, but he enjoys the songs the bard plays at the Bannered Mare.

19. Are they right or left handed?

Right, but is practicing with his left hand too in case something happens to his right.

20. Fears?

Death and failure, mostly.

21. Favorite kind of weather?

As the sun rises and there’s dew all over the grass, the light reflecting through each drop.

22. Favorite color?

The color of eyes. Or, more specifically, the hundreds of little pinpricks of different colors inside of eyes, It’s really quite fascinating.

23. Do they collect anything?

OH YEAH. So many different alchemy ingredients and random stuff to be used in his next works-

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold, which is good since he lives in Skyrim.

25. What is their eye color?

Chartreuse (like most Altmer)

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Altmer

27. Hair color?

White

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

Yup. Breezehome is small, but manageable, and Whiterun is a decent hold to live in.

29. Are they a morning person?

Yes. He gets tired around 9 and can’t stay up past 12.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

Very organized. Again, he’s a perfectionist.

32. Pet peeves?

People touching his things as well as people inserting themselves into his business.

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

An amulet of Talos a Nord gave him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to learn much about Talos at home, and he found it very interesting talking to the local Nords about their beliefs. That amulet reminds him of his first day in Skyrim, the first day of his new life.

34. Least favorite food?

Taffy treats, or anything with that sort of texture and stickiness that can get stuck to his teeth very easily.

35. Least favorite color?

Very pale green. It looks gross.

36. Least favorite smell?

Death. (Yes, death has a smell)

37. When was the last time they cried?

Recently.

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

No. Oh Auri-el, no no no no. He cries alone and he makes sure of it.

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

Was in a fire when he was younger, he has a burn going up the inner leg on his right leg.

40. Do they have any scars?

Only mental ones. (and the burn scar on his leg)

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

Perfectionism, past abuse, self hate, among others.

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Picking at his nails. He knows it makes them hurt and get bloody, but sometimes he just can’t help it.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He can be very rude if he’s working, but to be fair, it is really annoying to be bothered in the middle of your work.

44. Why might someone love them?

Who wouldn’t love an overworked science boye? But in all seriousness, if he loves someone, he will be very caring towards them and is also just great listener. Tries not to care any more though because of personal trauma.

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Yup. He’s heard of people’s encounters with them. Honestly, you’d be stupid to not believe in them.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

At this point? No. Farkas later down the line? Yes.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Farkas, but we ain’t talking about that yet~

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

No

49. Do they like surprises?

No. Please do not surprise this poor man he will stagger back and crash into everything.

50. When is their birthday?

9th of Hearthfire (September 9th)

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

He takes a few seconds to acknowledge it and then gets on with his work.

52. Do they have any family?

Yup! A Mom, a Dad, a younger sister, and a male cousin that lives nearby (he’s in the Thalmor and the whole family has very Pro-Thalmor views)

53. Are they close to their family?

HAH- no~

54. What is their MBTI type?

INTJ (Damn this list for making me look up stereotypes for this. Honestly I hate the MBTI system so much-)

55. What is their zodiac sign?

Virgo

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Ravenclaw

57. What D&D alignment are they?

If lawful chaotic good was a thing then yes

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

Yes, but they are often so tangled up that it’s hard to get any real meaning from them.

59. What are their views on death?

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll be fine-” Hopes that he’ll be fine but is really scared about it.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Bad science puns. He will stifle a chuckle before telling you how bad your joke was.

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

This man does not get bored. He will always find something alchemy related to study or look into.

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

Yes. Laureli loves the Skyrim weather (for the most part. Places like Dawnstar and Winterhold suck)

63. Do they have an accent?

Yes. He has the typical Altmer accent.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

“Why is this here? This isn’t mine.”

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say

He would probably take too long deciding and die before he could do/say anything.

66. How do they feel about sex?

Sex repulsed asexual.

67. What is their sexuality?

GAY

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

Nope.

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

He’s seen so much it would take a lot to surprise him here.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

Grumpy scientist with no people skills.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yes, definitely

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Not really. (Lucky)

73. Do they have a pet?

No

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Nope, unless you press his buttons. His anger is pretty much “What in the name of Auri-el is wrong with you?! Don’t touch my equipment!!”

75. How patient are they?

Very...until you hit his limit. Then he gets passive aggressive.

76. Are they good at cooking?

Not really. He can be good at it, he just chose not to learn in favor of working on his projects. Can make enough to live on, though.

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

He doesn't have a favorite insult (he rarely insults people).

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Talking fast, pacing, flappy hands.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

Try to avoid bringing those fears up around them and avoiding making fun of them. If their fear is nearby, he will either tell them or take care of it. (which is good because Farkas is scared of spiders)

80. Are they trustworthy?

Yes, but you have to be a very certain kind of person to work with him.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Sometimes, especially romantic feelings. Romantic attraction? Nope, not possible- (It totally is; he’s in denial)

82. Do they exercise regularly?

With all of the walking he does around various holds, yes.

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yes. He’s a perfectionist with many things, but has learned to let go a bit more when it comes to his appearance. He still will take ages to get ready, though.

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

Tattoos, braids, basically everything you’d see on a typical Nord. It’s so different from his home and he’s completely enamored.

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Himbo nord men. Sweet morons basically.

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Not really. Sweet foods do have their place, but he isn’t wanting to get any cavities, so he tries to limit his sugar. (Especially since Altmer live 200-300 years aprox)

87. What is their age?

52 (~20s for an Altmer)

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

Tall, but about average for an Altmer

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

No, but if he did he would have half-moon spectacles.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

Not really. He doesn’t really think anyone is attractive. (Well, except for Nord himbos, but he doesn’t know that until he meets Farkas)

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Practically nonexistent, but when there is humor it’s mostly dry and sardonic.

92. What mood are they most often in?

That sort of focused work mode you get in when you’re really concentrating, as well as somewhat-sociable-but-still-kind-of-tired-and-grumpy

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People messing up his equipment. Oh sweet Auri-el, if you touch his things he will explode. Also, he hates the racism that the Thalmor promote. (He hates racism in general, but he hates the Thalmor’s views the most).

94. Outlook on life?

“It sucks, but I do find quite a bit fascinating and I’ll help where I can.”

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

His perfectionism, how lonely he knows he is, and more.

96. What is their greatest weakness?

Again, his perfectionism, as well as having his work dictate more in his life than he should.

97. What is the greatest strength?

His brain. He remembers small details extremely well, and is practically an encyclopedia when it comes to alchemy.

98. Something that they regret?

How awful he used to be to everyone back home. He got a lot of pushback on his dreams and who he was, so he lashed out. Even though there wasn’t much he could do there, he still regrets hiring his family and wants to try at a relationship again with them (lol good luck).

99. Biggest accomplishment?

How is this different from “Greatest Achievement”?

100. Create your own! (Why is his alchemy so different from the norm?)

Because he’s trying to do something much more along the lines of modern medicine as opposed to just potions.

101. (Bonus!) Why is he in Skyrim?

Because it’s rather lacking in the medicine department compared to the other provinces, so he decided his talents would be best used there. Obviously, his family protested, but he went anyways.

#oc #laureli #skyrim

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3.6k

Warnings: smut, swearing, Dom vibes, dirty talk

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 14 Part 16

Part 15

After lunch, Liam took me on a tour of his house. We skipped the ground floor as I had already seen pretty much everything.

The first floor was a complete mystery to me. First, Liam showed me his study. It had two desks; on one, Liam had a fancy-looking PC, the other had a laptop and scripts and other paperwork scattered around. It had a large built-in bookcase with only a few books in it, most of them mine. I frowned at this. For an avid reader, he had a small collection. There was also a tiny bathroom, a guest bedroom which Liam says sometimes Ryan stays in.

The last room was a cinema room, all painted black with three rows of reclining chairs set on raised platforms with a projector screen. "This is fantastic," I said. There were cupboards, also black to store discs. When I opened them, I saw Liam's movie collection was also surprisingly bare. "For someone in the film industry, you don't have a lot of movies."

"I do, but most of them are back in London. It's the same thing with all my books and half my wardrobe. I don't know how long I'll be here. If the show is a success and gets picked up for another series, I might ship some of it here."

I let his words sink in. I don't know why, but it never really occurred to me that he may pick up and leave in six months. I felt myself close up and shut down. Regret started to set in. I tried to ignore it and tell myself to cross that bridge when the time comes. I forced a smile as I closed the cupboards and said to Liam, "What's next?"

We went up to the second floor. Liam's bedroom was there with another two bedrooms and a sitting room. The final floor was where the real master bedroom was. It had the gorgeous bathroom we were in last night and a huge bedroom that took up nearly the whole space. It had an even bigger wardrobe than Liam's, split in two with distinct areas for each partner. The bedroom had its own lounge area, and the whole room was arranged like a hotel suite complete with en-suite balcony and city views. It was exceptional. I was so blown away by the house, mansion really, that for a while, I forgot to worry about the future.

"Why didn't you use this as your bedroom? It's amazing."

Liam shrugged. "I did when I first moved in. But it was too big for just me. I felt lonely up here, and it was that bit harder for Cole to come and see me. I almost moved down to the first-floor bedroom, but it doesn't have a dressing room, so I went to the one I'm in now. What do you think?"

I was leaning on the balcony railing, looking towards the city. The trees were a colourful mix of green, red and gold. A few were starting to lose their leaves. It was so pretty. I felt Liam come up behind me and wrap his arms around me. He put his chin on my shoulder, and we both looked out towards the city. "Of the house? It's amazing. I don't know how else to describe it. I mean, it's a bit much for me. I'd cry if I had to clean it. But I assume you have cleaners?" Liam nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't live in a place this big without a cleaner."

"I'm glad you like it. I want you to be comfortable when you come over."

I interlaced my fingers with his and held them against my belly. "I'm definitely comfortable right now." We stood there for a while and relaxed into each other. Thoughts of Liam leaving reared it's ugly head a few times, but I ignored it. Instead, I focused on now. All I could do was enjoy the time I had with Liam and make the best of it.

Soon the wind started to pick up, and I grew cold. Liam took me back inside.

"I've got to work out for a bit," Liam said as we took the stairs down. "Do you think you can keep yourself occupied for an hour or so?"

"I could join you if you want? I didn't go to the gym yesterday so I could do with some exercise."

"Yeah, ok, let do it."

Liam went into his dressing room, and I changed in his room. I put on a pair of white and black ankle grazer tights and a white sports bra. I felt good in it and knew I looked good too. I went over to the chair to put my shoes and socks on and caught Liam looking through the door.

He was dressed already in shorts and a singlet. Guys always seem to get dressed so quickly. It takes me ages to dress unless I'm in a rush. Liam leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me. I ignored him as I did my shoes up.

"You look good in that." He said. I caught myself straightening my back, and a warm tingle flowed through me. I liked his little compliments.

"Thanks," I said, getting up. I put my hair in a ponytail, deliberately sticking my chest out as I did.

"Is that what you normally wear to the gym?"

"I usually wear a singlet over the top."

"But not today?" A smile spread over his face.

I smiled and said airily, "Nope, not today."

"I know what you're doing, Sweetheart." He walked past me, patting my bottom as he did. I tried to look innocent. "Come on. Let's go."

Liam put some music on and got started. Cole heard the music and came in, plopping himself on his mat in the corner. I blocked both of them out as much as I could and focused on the music. I was not going to get caught looking at Liam. I was going to make him look at me.

I got on the bike to do a bit of cardio. After warming up, I spent 10 minutes doing some interval training and worked up a decent sweat. I went over to the barbell, removed several weights, muttering "fucking hero" under my breath. I started my weights with a few sets of deadlifts. I noticed Liam in the corner of my eye with a kettlebell. He was sweaty too and looked amazing doing his lifts, but I pulled my eyes away. He was watching me. Good. I tried hard to keep the smirk off my face, but it was bloody difficult.

I focussed on my next exercise. I changed the weight again for the overhead press. These were hard for me, as my upper body was weaker than my lower body. I did these as quickly as possible because I hated them and only did them now because I knew they would drive Liam to distraction.

I did some goblet squats with a dumbbell before moving to my favourite, the weighted hip thrust. I got the barbell again, sat with my back against a bench, and brought the barbell to my hips. I planted my feet, and exhaling, I leaned back onto the bench, squeezing my glutes until my upper body and hips are straight. Then I lowered and exhaled again and repeated the exercise. When I had finished the set, I lowered myself to the floor and rested.

"Do you do that at the gym?" Liam asked.

I didn't look at him, knowing I would smile if I did. "Yeah. Why? Am I doing it wrong?" I knew full well I was doing it right.

"No, your form is lovely," I ordered myself not to blush. Liam paused and asked, "Are there men at your gym?" Got him.

"Yeah, it's usually 75% men."

"Lucky bastards." I looked at him and giggled. I wanted to smack myself. I was trying to be sexy, not a fucking child. He was sitting on a bench press. His legs were on either side of the bench, and his elbows rested on his knees. He was still sweating, his curls plastered to his forehead. His arms glistened. I wanted him to fuck me so badly.

Composing myself, I said. "I have another set to do."

"I'm finished." He said, "Go ahead. I'll wait."

I got back into position and repeated the set. When I finished, I lowered myself back to the floor. Liam asked. "Done yet?" Liam was standing now. He had moved closer and had his hands on his hips.

"One more." I was excited. My heart rate was raised, not just from the exercise.

Liam growled impatiently.

I started my last set, and my body was trembling. I didn't know if I could do the full set. I was too excited, too turned on. Liam entered my field of vision, watching me as I worked. I wasn't going to be able to do it with him watching. I closed my eyes, found my focus, and continued.

As I finished and rolled the barbell away, Liam lifted it and put it away. I laid down on my back and stretched out my muscles.

Liam stood over me. "You did that on purpose." It wasn't a question.

Still trying to play innocent, I said, "I don't know what you're talking about. I was just working out."

"Get up."

"I'm stretching."

"You're done. Get up."

I smiled at him and put my hand out. "Help me up?"

He grasped my hand and lifted me. He pulled me close and kissed me hard. "You're a fucking tease." He said. He didn't let me go. He held me tighter, his hand resting on my arse.

I started to protest that I didn't know what he was talking about, but he spanked me and said. "Don't deny it." He said, lifting me and wrapping my legs around his waist. "You know you were trying to get me hard." I could feel him against me. It had worked. "Since it worked, you can deal with it." His voice had taken on the gravelly tone he used when he was turned-on. It thrilled me. I put my arms around Liam's neck. Kissing me again, he walked out of the room. His lips tasted salty as I kissed him back.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"I'm giving you what you want. I'm going to fuck you."

"I didn't say that I wanted that," I said. Oh, but I did want that.

"You didn't have to," Liam said. He pushed me against the wall in the elevator as he pressed the button. "You know what to say if you want me to stop." He looked me in the eyes, "Anytime you want me to stop, I will. Don't hesitate or do anything you don't want to." I nodded to show him I understood. "Good."

When the lift opened, he took me to the bathroom we had used last night. I chuckled when I saw his clothes were still in a pile on the floor. He had let the water out of the bath and replaced my robe.

Liam took me over to the shower. "Shoes off," he said, and I took my shoes and socks off while he did the same. "Let your hair down." I pulled the band out and shook my hair until the curls fell around my shoulders. "Take your pants off." I lowered my tights slowly and stepped out of them. Liam did the same I could see how hard he was now. He continued to tell me to undress as he did the same until we both stood, our bodies bare.

He was beautiful standing there naked and hard. His arms looked more impressive than usual because of his work out. I wanted to touch him. I stepped closer to him and put my hand on his bicep. I felt my way up his arm, over his shoulder and across his collarbone. I stood on my toes to kiss his neck while I felt his chest. I reached my hands around his back and pressed myself against him. "Get in," he said. "Hurry."

I let him go and got into the shower. The temperature was perfect, and I let the water run all over me. I ran my hands through my hair to make sure it was all wet before turning around and facing Liam. He turned me around until I met the wall and used his body to shepherd me until my whole body was against it.

The tiles were cold, instantly making my nipples grow hard and tingly, sending ripples of pleasure down to my sex. My arms were pulled behind my back, elbows bent and forearms next to each other. Liam's body pushed into me, holding them there. In this position, I was helpless, and at his will, he could do what he wanted. It excited me. My whole centre throbbed. I wanted him. He was taking too long.

Liam's knees forced my legs apart, and I could feel my slick arousal on my thighs. He tilted my hips so my bottom jutted out. I thought of how I must look, arse out, legs apart, arms behind my back with my breasts and face pushed into the wall, his huge body covering mine. He leaned his head on the tiles next to mine, and his teeth nipped at my ear. I shivered in pleasure, in desperation and need.

I cried out in shock and relief as I felt Liam's fingers reaching around and parting my slit. "Fuck," he growled into my ear. "You feel so fucking good." He found my clit and played with me.

I cried out. I was so aroused I was almost too sensitive for his touch to feel good. I tried to pull away, but Liam's hold was firm. His fingers followed my every movement, not willing to let go until their mission was complete. He kissed and bit my neck and shoulders, adding more sensations to my already overwhelmed body. I didn't think I'd be able to take it.

Then it felt good, better than good, and I was able to stay still and let him have me. Liam's fingers danced over me. My cries quickened, and my body felt tight. I knew my climax was fast approaching.

Liam knew too. "Are you going to cum, Lana?" He stopped kissing me and watched my face. I couldn't say anything. I was too strung out, too close. I nodded as best I could. Liam put his hand into my hair and pulled my head back.

"After you cum I'm going to stick my cock into your tight wet pussy and fuck you until I cum. Is that what you wanted, Lana? Is that what you wanted when you got dressed in your skin-tight clothes? When you wore that bra that pushed your perky little tits together? When you lifted those weights, and I had to watch you thrust your arse and hips around? Is this what you wanted?" I tied to say yes, but instead, I came undone.

Liam kissed me, his mouth consuming me, his tongue owning my mouth as little aftershocks rippled through me. He took what little breath I had, and I was left gasping. The sound of the shower was suddenly thunderous in my ears as my senses returned. The stream of water was hot against my cooling skin, but it felt good. I was still gasping when I felt Liam's cock at my entrance. He stood up straight, releasing my hair and arms. Although they ached, I put my arms against the wall to brace for what I knew was to come.

His hands steadied my hips as his cock parted me, opening me up to him. I heard him groan as he entered me. I was tight from my orgasm, but I was so wet and relaxed he slid in quickly. His size stretched me until I was full, and he had sheathed himself completely. He wasted no time and immediately ploughed into me. Each thrust was rough, almost reaching the point of painful, but always just shy. I pushed back into him, arching my back further to give his movements more room.

His fingers dug deep into my hips as he forced them back to meet his. Each push seemed to elicit a deep exhale from Liam's throat, a growl that grew more shallow with each moment. I heard him bellow as his hands reached up for my shoulders. He pulled my shoulders down as he pushed so hard into me, I thought I would split in two. He held me there for a moment as he let go into me, and I cried out, unsure if it hurt or felt like heaven. I felt him release inside me, pulling me down while he pushed into me. I almost cried no more, but it would have been a lie because the hurt was too sweet.

Liam's head lulled onto my back as he released my shoulders and regained his breath. He lifted his head to turn me around. With my back against the tiles, he once more leaned into me, this time just to hold me, his head buried in my neck. I held him to me, wanting his comfort, and he kissed my neck softly, moving up to my face and kissing my lips.

He was smiling as he brushed my hair off my face. Then he moved me under the water. He found the body wash, couldn't find a sponge or anything so he just used his hands to wash me. He ran his hands all over my body, and it felt heavenly. He rubbed my shoulders, massaging deep into me, his thumbs moving so deeply they almost hurt. Any tension I had left fell away, and I felt light and free. He gave himself a quick wash before he stepped out and brought me a robe and slipped one on himself.

"Finally, you decide to cover up," I said as I watched him use a towel to dry his hair. His curls were a cute little mess on his head almost fluffing up like a duckling.

"Yeah, righto mate." He said, using my slang back at me.

I laughed. "Seems I'll make an Aussie out of you yet."

"Pull your head in," Liam said, complete with a halfway decent accent.

"What the hell? I don't think I've told you that one!"

Liam smiled and kissed me on the nose. "That one I learned from Boyd."

"Who's Boyd?"

"Boyd McCarthy. He is going to play my best friend. He's helped me out with a few phrases. However, I don't entirely trust him. He tried to get me to believe in drop bears."

"I like him already," I said as I gathered my clothes.

"Well, you'll meet him on Thursday."

"I still don't know what to wear to that."

Liam had his clothes, and we went downstairs. "I can take you shopping tomorrow if you'd like."

"I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Usually, high-end fashion boutiques or department stores."

I thought for a minute. We had arrived in the bedroom, and Liam went into his dressing room.

"Ok. I think a department store. They will have everything I need, shoes and a bag. We won't have to go to a million places."

"If you want to go to a few boutiques as well, I don't mind. We can take as long as you want."

I shook my head. "I don't like clothes shopping. I order most of my stuff online. I'd rather spend a day online shopping than dealing with crowds in shopping centres. I'm only agreeing to go into a shop because I have no idea what's in fashion or if I enough time to get the right dress online." I looked at my bag, "Hey Liam, what are we doing for dinner? Are we staying in?"

"What does it look like?" Liam came out in his tracksuit pants.

"Fair enough, tracky dacks it is."

Part 16

#original character #original fiction #romantic story #happy ever after

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 237 “Underwater Breath-Holding Contest”

And after a chapter which gave us precious info about Sugimoto’s past we get again one that’s more action oriented, although from it we could still get some info.

For who’s wondering the ‘Kiss of Life’ is merely a trope.

Anyway, back to the story.

While Boutarou talks with the passengers, Sugimoto and Shiraishi talk about what to do… without bothering to involve Asirpa. Really, somehow they feel more disjunted than usual as a group, out of late.

Shiraishi points out that according to what Boutarou has said, the guy might have already discovered where the gold is hidden.

Sugimoto counters that Boutarou had however admitted knowing where to search isn’t enough to find the gold.

Shiraishi asks him what they should do in regard to the rumor about how useless it would be to collect the tattooed skins. Sugimoto, after a moment of hesitation, insist they should keep on gathering them.

This is a good moment to point out that keeping on gathering the tattooed skins brings up the following consequences:

- they’ve to hunt dangerous convicts that are all but willing to hand them their skins and might try to kill them

- they might end up killing said convicts

- they have as rivals to get the surviving convicts the Tsurumi group and the Hijikata group who also want the skins

- they will have to fight them anyway as both groups have part of the skins so if they want to get them all they’ve to steal from the others the skins they have

- the others will try to hunt them for the skins they own

- in the process they can also lose Asirpa who’s also hunted because she knows how to solve the code

- it will take them much more time

- they don’t know how many skins the others have so they’ve no idea when the convicts will all be found

In short, if collecting the skins is useless, pursuing them means only getting themselves in unnecessary danger and unnecessarily murdering people. In short is a bad combination that both Wakayama and Boutarou, seasoned criminals who don’t hesitate in killing people, rejected.

It’s beyond stupid to pursue the tattooed skins if there’s nothing to gain from them, Wakayama and Boutarou were intelligent enough to figure it out and stop. Wakayama gave up completely, Boutarou was smart and capable enough to devise a plan B as he didn’t intend to give up on the gold even if he understood plan A wasn’t worth being pursued.

So why Sugimoto, who’s not bloodthirsty and doesn’t want to put his friends in danger, wants to keep on chasing them?

Well, probably exactly for this reason.

Accepting that hunting the skins is useless means accepting what he did for more than a year was useless. He wasted time, he put his friends in danger, he murdered people ALL FOR NOTHING.

Sugimoto could likely accept doing it when the game was worth the candle, when the outcome would provide him much more benefits. But if all he had gone through was for nothing… well, how hard it becomes to swallow all this?

He has wasted time, he has suffered, he had murdered, he had almost lost Asirpa and it was all useless, a mistake.

For Boutarou and Wakayama it was easy to pull back, they had, at the time, invested too little in this, but Sugimoto had bet everything over how, if he were to collect all the skins, he would get the gold. While the clever thing would be to pull out like Boutarou and Wakayama had done, Sugimoto’s psyche is likely fighting it with all its strength, so that’s likely why he wants to reject the rumor and keep on going that way even if everything is starting to tell him it’s a wrong choice.

Shiraishi doesn’t pressure him, but suggests to pretend to ally with Boutarou and see how things will go.

Sadly this implies they can always betray and skin Boutarou later as there is no genuine wish to join hands in them, it’s just a situation of convenience.

And this is a good moment to remind everyone in this story there’s not a side who is with justice, that will be honest, that won’t betray an alliance. This isn’t ‘Saint Seiya’, here everyone is for himself and it’s meaningful that Noda presented Sugimoto as the first to break alliances, first the one with Asirpa, when in chap 14 decided to break their partnership without even telling her, thinking it’s for the better if you want, but still acting arbitrarily and leaving her on her own without even considering she might not just drop the search just because he’s not there but keep it up on her own and then with Tsurumi in chap 19 when he tricked him into giving him medical help in exchange for the skins.

Having the main character do this is our hint NO ONE is obliged to keep a deal, that all the deals are done out of self interest and can be broken exactly when interest conflict.

However, as Shiraishi and Sugimoto are thinking they can only pretend to join hands with him and then betray Boutarou later, Boutarou has found Heita’s skin, his cigarette case and the note with the rivers from which the gold came as well as his name, all hidden in Sugimoto’s backpack.

From this it’s easy for him to assume that no, despite what they had said, Shiraishi and Sugimoto didn’t come to his same idea as him by chance but murdered Heita and, from what they found on him, they came up with the same plan… or, more probably, they were trying to use the info they got to find and skin him the way they had done with Heita… and he’s not wrong because this was part of the plan and we know still is.

So Boutarou collect his accomplice and prepare himself to deal with Sugimoto and Shiraishi.

He tells in a cheerful tone (look at his balloons and how they aren’t just oval shaped but they look like small clouds) they’re about to reach Ebetsu and asks them again if they want to join forces with him. He then asks them if they know how much the gold is, if they believe it’s 75 kg as it was told to the prisoners. Then he tells them that the Ainu old man told him the amount of gold has to be much more, as it was put up in a huge pile of deerskin bags.

The info is interesting but again it opens the question of how they managed to move it all. It would have taken a lifetime for Wilk to do it on his own, if he did it with the Ainu who were killed, who supposedly weren’t that young (they included Ariko’s father and the brother of an old man), it would be better yet still be a big work.

I wonder if they used water to transport it as it would allow them to move it farther with more ease and speed than, let’s say, a carriage.

Too bad I find unlikely they could connect the place in which the gold was and the place in which they wanted the gold to end with water pipes in which they could just pour the dust and let the water do all the job of carring it from a place to another.

Still they could probably put it on boats, to move it far away from where it was. It’s still a big work though for few men who might not be that young anymore.

Oh well, when we’ll get an idea of the place in which the gold was, we might get hints on how it was moved.

Anyway Sugimoto at this confirmation that the gold is a huge amount sweats with a small smile while Shiraishi has an ecstatic air.

And they both react likely like Boutarou wanted, so caught up in this information that they lower their guard, all lost in their little world of how they’ll become rich and are caught completely on surprise when Boutarou tells them it’s a pity he can’t pursue his dream together with them, his accomplice pointing his gun at them from behind them.

Luckily for them there’s Asirpa who, having been cut out from adults’ conversations, had thought well to go back check Sugimoto’s luggage which had been left open and had realized Boutarou should have seen Heita’s cigarette case in it, as the case is now out of the bag.

Asirpa is no fool nor blinded by gold and immediately understood if Boutarou has seen the cigarette case and pulled it out, he should have also seen what it contained and Heita’s skin and would be less amicable with them than previously.

So, as Boutarou’s accomplice is about to shoot them, she throws one of her arrows to the gun, causing the tip of it to slide between the cylinder and the lower part of the frame, effectively blocking the cylinder from rotating and therefore rendering the gun unable to shoot.

So again Asirpa saves the day, after saving the day the chapter before. Really, as I said in a post long ago, when in troubles call her, she’s the most reliable to save the day.

As Peter Venkman would say ‘She came, she saw, she kicked their asses!’

Asirpa is great, that’s it.

A fight ensues… or better it would have ensued if the captain hadn’t rotate the ship’s wheel and caused it to move on a different track, a track that brought it close to the tree, causing their branches to basically sweep the bridge and send Sugimoto, Boutarou and Boutarou’s accomplice in the water, Shiraishi having the good sense to toss himself on the ground because Shiraishi is awesome like that and not enough apprecciated.

Boutarou’s accomplice… well, at a first glance I thought he ends up hitting his head against the waterwheel… but it can be he actually ended up being sucked by it as we see blood spraying out of it and then he starts drowning again, one of his legs bent to an odd angle and his body bleeding heavily.

So really it could have been much more gruesome than him just hitting his head... and I’ve to admit Noda toned down the gruesome scenes if I compare Golden Kamuy to when it started. I mean... Tamai’s face or lack thereoff is something I think people will remember for a long time... or do we want to talk of Noma hung on a tree with his intestines trailing down of it?

Sugimoto sees the scene but Boutarou is immediately behind him, grabs him and starts pulling him deeper underwater.

It’s worth to remember not only water is Boutarou’s element, in which he moves much better and much faster than Sugimoto but that he can hold his breath much longer than a common human so Sugimoto is hugely at disadvantage here. Boutarou was also very clever in this.

Not only he placed himself behind Sugimoto, making harder for the latter to hit him, but grabbed his left wrist, making difficult for Sugimoto to swing the bayonet he was holding with his left hand.

If anything Boutarou’s mistake was he didn’t manage to also grab Sugimoto’s right wrist but only the sleeve of his right coat, leaving him some measure of movement with his right hand.

Meanwhile outside Shiraishi asks Asirpa if she can swims… but it turns out she can do it only as long as she can touch with her feet. I wonder if this too will become a plot point or it’s just random info.

Anyway, wanting to help Sugimoto, our brave and awesome Shiraishi tosses himself in the water.

Meanwhile Sugimoto manages to grab with his partially free right hand the bayonet and tries to hit Boutarou with it. Boutarou let him go and, from Sugimoto’s face, we can see he’s pretty short of air, bubbles escaping from his mouth and nose and eyes open wide.

Boutarou grabs his foot, pulling him down again as Sugimoto waves desperately his arms and more air escapes from his mouth and nose.

At this point Shiraishi appears and grabs Sugimoto’s face.

Shiraishi is weak and can’t fight Boutarou so he planned to use the mouth-to-mouth breathing technique so as to give Sugimoto air and allow him to keep on fighting.

It’s a plan, it normally won’t work that easily in life but in manga and anime it hardly fails.

Sugimoto though, tries to push Shiraishi away and also moves his face away, causing Shiraishi to miss his mouth when he tries to give him air and then, for good measure, Sugimoto hits Shiraishi, the blow causing Shiraishi to partially lose consciousness and starts floating away, toward the air, stopping him from further attempting to give air to Sugimoto.

Overall I get the whole thing is played for fun, from the mouth-to-mouth breathing that can be viewed as a kiss to Sugimoto’s reaction. I’m not really amused though as it’s overall stupid.

Sure, normally this sort of things work solely in tv shows and manga/comics but Sugimoto is depicted as desperately needing air so he should have been extremely cooperative in the whole thing (have you ever tried drowning? You won’t be picky, you’ll literally kill to get air) because otherwise he could very well die, and harming Shiraishi might have caused him to drown as well, instead than do them any good.

I get that due to the rule of funny they would obviously both survive and that Sugimoto could pull out of his hammerspace new air without the need of Shiraishi’s help but really, I would have preferred if this fight between two cool guys was kept serious after Boutarou’s accomplice died in such a gruesome way. Sure, maybe Noda wanted the humor to make us forger exactly that but… well, as far as I’m involved it didn’t work.

Of course maybe it’s just me, not everyone must react the same to a joke.

Anyway, while Boutarou keeps pulling him down, Sugimoto losing more air from his mouth when the rule of cool comes to his rescue in form giant sturgeons deciding to swim close to them so that Sugimoto can... hum... yell so as to waste more air from his mouth (is he trying to say he’s immortal?)...

stab his bayonet in a fish and have it drag him away.

But it’s not like the fish swims toward the air and Boutarou doesn’t let go of Sugimoto’s foot while Sugimoto instead let go of more air and it’s only a mix of rule of funny and rule of cool that keeps him still perfectly aware and strong enough to hold onto his bayonet because everyone else at this point would have had his lugs completely filled with water, lost consciousness and drowned.

But I guess Noda realized one could pull this on only for so long.

Boutarou should have more ability to hold his breath underwater than Sugimoto, so keeping this up either undermines this because Sugimoto is faring way too well for someone who shouldn’t have even half of Boutarou’s ability or Noda would need to end this with Sugimoto finally drowning due to lack of air.

So, since Noda can’t kill Sugimoto but Sugimoto can’t get out of water to get air nor can beat Boutarou underwater, Noda decided to have luck save Sugimoto again this time not in form of giant fishes but in form of Boutarou’s long hair getting trapped in the waterwheel, pulling him to it.

I think the idea is that if Boutarou doesn’t free himself, this time he’ll either drown or, more likely, will end up making the same end of his nameless accomplice.

In fact, while Sugimoto manages to pull his head out of water and breathe, with Asirpa’s obvious relief, things take a turn for worse for Boutarou as his body is starting to get trapped in the waterwheel.

At this Noda shows us Sugimoto. I think the idea is that this means Sugimoto knows what’s happening to Boutarou and now he has to decide if he has to let him die or do something.

Meanwhile things are getting worse for Boutarou as he’s starting to lose air from his mouth and…

and that’s the moment Suggimoto cuts his hair free, saving him and probably willing, if not his loyalty, his possible cooperation.

Boutarou liked him already and likely attacked him only in self defense, because correctly figured out Sugimoto was out there for his skin and, like Sugimoto, he preferred to kill than to be killed.

They’re similar in many things those two and I like to think Sugimoto didn’t merely save him to get info but also because he felt a kinship through their similar pasts.

Honestly I would love for those two to become friends, Boutarou has a different cheeriness from Shiraishi, while Shiraishi is cheery because he doesn’t worry, Boutarou is positive but he’s also practical, a good thinker and tries to go for the best outcome. I think he could bring something good to the group.

Of course it always loom in his back the fact that Vasily, thinking he’s an enemy, might shoot him down. We’ll see.

Then, while a box gives us some info, we see that the rule of funny ensured, as expected, Shiraishi’s survival… but I kind of have the feeling this played again like the final page of chap 211. Shiraishi got the short end of the stick and no one cares as it was supposed to be ‘fun’.

Oh well, he was given the role of comedic relief so I guess not much can be done but I’m still sorry for him. He tried to help the way he could and his attempt was rejected, with Sugimoto putting him in danger only to make readers laugh. Honestly I think Shiraishi deserves more apprecciation but it might be just me.

#Golden Kamuy #Sugimoto Saichi #Shiraishi Yoshitake #Asirpa #Oosawa Fusatarou #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories

[lostonehero]

This is based on @5am-the-foxing-hour idea

"You don't love me." The pregnant woman stated point blank at the man who knocked her up.

"What no of course...." the man stops knowing that look. "How did you figure it out?"

The woman smiles and places her hand in his. "Look Dorian I knew a month into this pregnancy, and honestly I don't love you either. Uh uh no I already talked to all of my family and they agree you can stay around because we all know how excited you are to be a father." The woman smiles then frowns seeing Dorian begin to cry.

"I wanted to keep lying to myself to say I'm normal, and I don't like men, but I.."

"Dorian shut up. Please I hear you baby tall to my bump and honestly I don't give a shit if your gay or not. You'll be a good dad, or my parent will string you up." The woman laughs.

"I'm trying Lynn I'm trying. And you heard that?" Dorian wipes his tears looking embarrassed.

"It's adorable. You know you're pretty good for someone who ran over his brother's boyfriend."

Dorian hissed. "I was trying to protect him. That man was bad news."

The woman laughs. "I'm glad. At least I know this kid will have the scary dad with the face scar who will protect them to the last breath."

Dorian huffs. "Your mother is scarier then me."

"Yeah and?" Lynn teases.

Dorian rolls his eyes.

.....

The months go by fast, and well Lynn didn't survive the birth. Something went really wrong.

......

-7 years later-

A little boy with bright eyes is waiting patently on the stairs of his elementary school with a drawing grasped firmly in his hand. Next to the boy sits a new teacher who isn't familiar with this boy's situation.

"I'm so exitced I'm going to show this picture to dad and then we can go give it to mommy's grave." The little boy chattered on to his teacher who frowned at that.

"You're mom is gone?" The teacher asked.

"Yeah mr flowers, daddy says she died when having me, but he also says I get to meet her when I'm really really old like grandpa max he is like 75. Daddy let's me pick out the flowers to give to mom, and he let's me draw pictures in chalk on her stone. He says mommy would be so happy to see that." The little boy looked happy even with that tragedy.

The teacher looks mildly impressed this kid has accepted that his mother is gone, and even understands what death is to a degree. "Really that's great Lukas, so your father is running late."

"Yeah he always comes to pick me up late because he's working, but it's ok because he tells me cool stories about the things at work. I like the snake stories." Lukas smiles and gets up in excitement seeing his father run up on the sidewalk.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I was working a double shift. " the man looked exhausted but happiness filled his eyes when he saw his son.

"Dad dad look at the picture I drew for mommy, and and i made you a gift too. " the little boy hands his father two drawings.

Dorian's face breaks out in a wide smile. "These are so good Lukas. Are you sure you're not an artist?"

Lukas giggles hugging his father's leg. "Nah I'm just Lukas."

"Uh thanks again for waiting here with him. His grandmother would normally take him if I'm late and ask but she is busy today." Dorian sighs.

"Oh it's no issue at all, and I'm Patton your son's new teacher."

"It is nice to meet you, and sorry again about this."

"Don't apologize Lukas here was just a delight to watch." Patton hums.

Lukas is pulling on Dorian's leg. "Dad come on I want to tell mom what I did today, and I want to tell you what I learned."

Dorian smiles softly picking up the boy. "Alright alright mr impatient. Thank you though."

Patton watches as the man leaves with his son.

.......

Dorian was watching his son play at the park sitting next to the boy's grandmother.

"Dorian I am going to continue to lecture you until you get it through your head that you need to rest." The woman, Maggie frowns.

"Look it's fine, I'm just trying to save up to get him something special." Dorian scowls looking at Maggie. "I do not need charity, I uh shit sorry. I mean I want to do this myself I feel bad for making you take care of Lukas when I'm working."

Maggie slaps the back of Dorian's head. "I consider you my son in law first off, and second Lukas is my grandson I will take him away from you more if you would let me. I love the boy, and he is such a nice change from everything else. You are doing amazing things and you don't just have to do this by yourself. And do you know how awful it is to have a silent house."

Dorian smiles softly. "Alright fine you win." He watches Lukas run towards him with something in his hand.

"Look look I found a cool rock." Lukas smiles triumphantly holding up his new rock.

Dorian gets up holding his son's hand. "Come on let's go find more to show to your grandma."

Maggie gets up taking Lukas's hand from Dorian. "How about we surprise your dad kiddo."

Lukas nods and pulls his grandma along.

Dorian shakes his head sitting back down on the bench.

"Dorian?"

Dorian turns around hearing his name get called seeing his older brother Virgil standing there with his son's new teacher.

He was so fucked, Virgil was going to tell there parents, and of course they will probably demand custody of his son because they think he is unfit. And because of his record they would win, and he didn't want to loose his son. He loves him, and works so hard to keep him happy and healthy.

He doesn't realize he's panicking until Patton is rubbing his back and helping him breathe.

"Dorian shit you ok?" Virgil was now sitting on the other side of Dorian.

"Please don't tell them, please I don't want to loose him." Dorian says through his hiccups.

"What? Dorian tell who?" Virgil was scowling his brother was probably involved in something bad again, it's been nearly a decade and he hasn't changed.

Dorian wipes his face with the tissue Patton gave him. "Thank you Patton. Virgil don't tell mom or dad about Lukas I do not want to loose him."

"Who the fuck is Lucas? Dorian I swear you haven't changed, what do you need to be bailed out again or...." Virgil is cut off by a little boy approaching the three.

"Hi mr flowers. Dad dad look what grandma helped me get." Lukas holds up a shiny green rock.

Dorian smiles pulling Lukas to his lap. "That's a pretty rock kiddo want to put it in your collection?"

Lukas nods. "Yeah I do. Who is that? He has purple hair."

Virgil freezes realizing that his brother wasn't involved in anything bad, but he was a father. Why didn't he want mom and dad to know.

Dorian coughs elbowing Virgil. "Who are you?"

Virgil snapped out of his daze. "Uh I'm Virgil I'm Dorian's older brother."

"Really, daddy says you don't like him because he was bad." Lukas looks up at Virgil with a gleam in his eye.

"Come on Lukas let's give your father some privacy." Maggie says picking up Lukas who pouts.

"But grandma"

"No buts. Come on Lukas your dad will met us at home. You have to put that rock away before someone takes it." Maggie jokes making like smile and they wave goodbye as they leave.

"Virgil I'm going to say this once you hurt my son I will bury you. And before you ask his mother is dead. No I didn't kill her something went really wrong when she was giving birth." Dorian sighs.

"Dorian is this what have you've been doing?" Virgil asks with caution.

"What else would I be doing? Virgil I'm trying my best to be the best father the boy can have." Dorian frowns looking at Patton. "You're dating his teacher Virgil."

"Guilty at that." Patton speaks up.

"So if you want to know anything ask him. I know for a fact you think the worst of me Virgil so please just don't hurt Lukas." With that Dorian gets up and leaves.

#deceit is a jazzy boy #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #deceit sanders #sanders sides virgil #deciet sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders

[mothergoddessslut]

Booty Things

As a young promiscuous teen, many of my sexual endeavors came about through the wants and desires of the young and some old(ish) men that wanted to try some things out. And I, always with the shits, would go with the flow. The one thing that did not really come up often was anal. 

It was something I did not even consider on my own. Being a girl who grew up in the Bronx amongst populations of Hispanic girls attending Catholic school who viewed anal and oral as deeds to be done while still maintaining their virginity...Anal seemed....unnecessary

But I am with the shits. There is nothing to be said against that.

 My first experience with anal was non consensual. The guy, who I considered to be my teacher, who talked me through my first orgasm, who taught me what sensuality meant... He didn’t stop when I asked. 

He said he would go slow and if I didn’t want to do it anymore he would stop. Well, I didn’t want to do it the moment I felt BURNING around my entire rectum and I squealed “No. No more.” He kept going. I couldn’t move or struggle against him. It was too painful and he was so much bigger than me.  

That marked the end of a relationship. Almost the end of trust in sexual encounters. A fear settled in and collected dust as I carried on, meeting others, having great sex, saying “no, I don’t do anal.” Sometimes trying for someone I really liked (loved) and my butt clenching so tightly and eyes squeezing shut, fists balled so much so that they just said , “it’s cool, we don’t have to.”

Life went on without anal ; although I did like booty things. A finger or two in my butt and a man that would eat my ass seemed like the proper set off for a good night. But I managed to indulge in those things without having to engage in conversation of whether I would take that dick. Because...I wasn’t. 

It wasn’t until D came back around. First love. First of soooo many things. He came back during a time I was lonely. My sexuality bottled up and forgotten. My soul clinging to glimpses of joy that I couldn’t find within myself and searched for in my kids and my family and their kids. And fake lives on Instagram. He came during a time I chose to make a shift in my life to seek personal joy and happiness. He came on time. Our reunion was noteworthy , although not the purpose of this note. But what is most notable is I had not had sex in three years before we reunited. 

I released all of me to him. 

And so it began and thrived. 

We knew that we would and could do ANYTHING to, with and for each other. There were no questions or doubts. We talked about anal and he wasn’t really pressed, recalling the difficulty we had with it in the past. Stating it was overrated and he didn’t want to end up with shit on his dick. I low key was relieved. We continued to thrive. More visits. More trips. More cum dripping down lips, thighs, legs... we loved each other more. 

We had a Miami trip planned. It would be a major milestone in our lives. Our first vacation. Scary, thrilling, romantic. One night while we stared at each other on FaceTime he said to me, “I want all of you. I don’t know why but I want that ass too.” And when he said that, I knew what he meant. And he knew in saying that... I would consider, plan for it and make it happen. But he wouldn’t press. He wouldn’t have to. Everything that is supposed to happen does. 

I got advice from friends because oddly enough about 75% of my girlfriends really dig anal to the point of having documented epic orgasms as part of their experiences. I too, wanted these experiences with D. The thing consistent in all of their separate pieces of advice was that I needed to be relaxed. I needed to be incredibly turned on and loose. Get drunk. Get high. Fuck a lot. Then try. The relaxation part is always the part that gets me but ok!! I want to try. Because he wants my ass and I want him to have it. 

 I purchased a butt plug and some good lube. My Miami plan was to wear it while out and come home and try it out. 

Anal did not happen in Miami. I was ready for it, or at least thought I was. But in true D fashion, he didn’t press the issue. In fact he said that one day we will have a life time to do that and he didn’t want to do it then and it not work out according to plan and we don’t really have the time and space to try again OR on the contrast, do it and it’s amazing and we have to wait to see each other to try it again. He wanted to just do it , when it felt right. 

So, fast forward to an impromptu trip to New York in August. We hadn’t really talked about anal but I did bring butt plug along as well as my lube. In fact in our time apart, I practiced a little bit with my plug. Trying to prepare myself for the next visit, if we should so happen to believe that this was the right time. 

Once at his apartment we did a lot of noteworthy shit. But I would like to remain on topic. 

He sat on the couch and I adjusted my hips around his face and my head in his lap. Sucking his dick greedily while he slurped on me. And of course, treating me to some booty eating before he slipped a finger in, which felt like pure ecstasy. I moaned so loud and he talked all the shit. Asking if he could open me up more and then slid in another finger. I began to push back on that. This excited him. Oh you must be ready for this dick. Are you?

And I distinctly remember answering “I think so.” and laughing. Honesty and trust have been huge factors in our relationship. Other times in my life I would have lied and said “Yeah, I’m ready for that dick.” and when homeboy met my feigned enthusiasm with his hard dick... booty would clench up and I would become a sea of apologies and regret for even entertaining the shit in the first place. But the honesty in “I think so.” was me saying I want to. Everything you are doing to me feels so amazing. I think I am actually ready. I am going to try because I want this. 

We headed to the bedroom. Laid on the bed and kissed. He sucked on my breasts, licked my neck, played with my pussy and touched me softly. I got up to get the lube. We had a couple of awkward moments. 

Me: Do I lube your dick up too? 

Him: I don’t know. It can’t hurt. 

We both laugh and I lube us up. I lay down on my side. He said to me in the most tender voice ever, “You guide me in.” That. Was. A. Fucking. Turn. On. 

The biggest advice of being relaxed. Being loose. Being open. It came to me. I was scared because I didn’t know what to expect but I wanted it. My body was his and conformed to him behind me. I felt warm and my pussy was dripping. I grabbed his dick from behind me and guided it toward my asshole. Very transparently, not knowing what the fuck I was doing. And I thought ok this is it. Felt tremendous pressure as I tried to be still and he tried to push in and he asked is it in and I was kind of like sure. There were these brief moments of woah  woah, there’s that burning sensation followed by simply moments of pressure. And I kind of fantasized maybe it is in and if it is, I can do this shit alllll the time. But kind of knowing that there was no way it could be. But also kind of not knowing how to adjust my body further to allow for further (any) penetration. Still, I remained relaxed and open and wanting him and wanting this. 

Our confusion and uncertainty as to whether we were even doing shit right led to , hmmmm let’s stop. He rolled me onto my stomach and got on my back and then guided himself in. He said “Now THIS is in.” And it was. No longer a feeling a pressure but that burning sensation that would make my booty hole clench up and my eyes water. Yes, it was in. And I whispered, “Yeah it is.” And we kept going. The pain...not so much more recognizable than the want to feel more of it. But my mind saying “woah woah woah.” But he continued, gently and my body still relaxed , allowing him entry. Also feeling a new sensation I was unsure of what to make out of it. The feeling of this shit hurts but please give me more. And that confusion ultimately led to , ok...that’s enough for a first try. He stopped. Washed off. And then we did other things until we both came. 

He rolled up in the living room. I made us some buffalo wings and Texas toast. He said you will have to tell your friends we tried but we weren’t successful. And I thought out loud not true. It was a good attempt. And he said, “Well yeah, I did get the head in.”

THE HEAD??!!!?? THAT’S IT??!!!

I had to laugh. 

So. I’m no pro on things as they relate to the booty. I am actually a student these days. While it may have only been the head, that was more than anything else past my non consensual experience. AND... I realized I wanted it again. I want it more. 

Relaxed. My body was relaxed. My body relaxes for him in a way it wouldn’t for even the most skilled of lovers I had. Trust. I trust him to take care of me. I trust him to have an end goal of pleasing me. I trust him to keep me safe even while he chokes and slaps me. 

My booty is his. He can have it any time. 

[nebris]

The significant, neglected role of Russian women in World War II.

Early in “The Unwomanly Face of War,” Svetlana Alexievich’s harrowing and moving account of female Soviet soldiers during World War II, there is a scene where a group of female fighters arrives at the front. Wearing army shirts and forage caps — shorn of the long braids they once felt proud of — they are crack graduates of a women’s sniper school, assigned to the 62nd Rifleman’s Division. Their commander is not happy to see them. “They’ve foisted girls on me,” he complains.

The commander orders them to prove they can shoot and perform other key tasks such as camouflaging themselves in the field. Skeptically watching their training exercise, he steps on a hummock and is taken aback when the ground below him speaks. “You’re too heavy,” the hummock tells him. It is a female sniper, embedded in the landscape. “I take back my words,” the commander admits amid their laughter.

The woman recounting that anecdote killed 75 men in the years that followed, receiving 11 combat decorations and becoming renowned for her skill at picking off Nazis. She and her companions were among some 1 million women who fought in the Soviet army, helping repel the Germans during four bloody years of siege, occupation and combat. For many Allied countries, World War II was the watershed conflict that brought women into the military (and intelligence) in significant numbers; with fighting taking place in so many quarters, it proved impossible to staff a global war using only men. But the Soviets deployed theirs most fully. At the outset of American involvement, U.S. officials dithered over whether to admit women even in non-combat capacities — it was feared that they might become hysterical if permitted to work as, say, air traffic controllers. Soviet women, in contrast, served as fighter pilots, tank drivers, infantrymen, antiaircraft gunners. “The Unwomanly Face of War” tells the story of these forgotten women, and its great achievement is that it gives credit to their contribution but also to the hell they endured.

“At nineteen I had a medal ‘For Courage,’ ” says one. “At nineteen my hair was gray. At nineteen in my last battle I was shot through both lungs.”

Alexievich, a Belarusian journalist and author, in 2015 received the Nobel Prize in literature. She has been saluted for writing intricately braided oral histories that give collective voice to the suffering caused by cataclysmic events including the Chernobyl disaster and the occupation of Afghanistan. “The Unwomanly Face of War” began in the late 1970s, after she read a newspaper article about a female accountant retiring from a Minsk auto factory. The article mentioned that the accountant had been a sniper — the one with 75 kills. Alexievich sought her out; one interview led to hundreds. Soviet publishers at first rejected the book as overly naturalistic and insufficiently admiring of the Communist Party. Perestroika was more receptive. Two million copies were printed in 1985.

The English translation arrives at a time when women in combat remain a fraught topic. Anyone who thinks that a female soldier cannot carry a wounded man off the field of battle — a frequent argument and a wrong one — need only read this book. One medic hauled 481 men from under fire. “I myself find it hard to believe,” she reflects.

During the book’s journey to publication, a censor urged Alexievich to tell heroic stories. But, growing up, she had heard enough of those. Men start wars, she holds, and glorify them. She wanted to write a book “that would make war sickening.” She succeeded. There is the radio operator who drowns her baby so its crying won’t give away partisan fighters hiding neck-deep in water. There is the medic — 16 when she joined — crawling to rescue a man whose blasted arm is hanging by a few sinews; lacking scissors, she “bit his flesh off” so he could be bandaged.

Starting out, Alexievich wanted to understand why “the girls of 1941” came forward. “How is it they decided to take up arms on a par with men? To shoot, mine, blow up, bomb — kill?”

In part, the answer lay in the gender egalitarianism of their communist education. “Girls — at the wheel of the tractors!” one recalls being taught. “Girls — at the controls of a plane!” But it’s also because the loss of men was so swift and massive. After Hitler’s 1941 invasion, “millions of soldiers and officers were captured,” as one man recalls. “In six weeks Hitler was already near Moscow. . . . And girls were eager to get to the front voluntarily. . . . Those were brave, extraordinary girls.”

Many admired Stalin and believed in Soviet power. The “frontline girls” were full of fervor, feted by their neighbors, eager to defend the Motherland. One danced while waiting for her troop train. Nobody ever thinks a war will be long. But there were other reasons. “We were starving,” recalled a lathe operator who became a submachine-gun platoon commander. She yearned for the front because there “would be rations there. Rusks and tea with sugar.”

The girls were unbelievably young. One enlisted after the seventh grade. A sapper contracted a fever and realized that her wisdom teeth were coming in. Some had not yet started menstruating. Those who had often stopped. “We were so overworked we ceased to be women,” said an armorer. The loss of femininity bothered them. They hated wearing men’s underwear, feared looking ugly in death. They struggled to keep their legs out of caterpillar treads while pulling men out of burning tanks. Nobody would marry a legless woman. The difficulty reconciling conventional femininity with killing and fighting is at the heart of this book. One gunner confided that those she killed — “my dead” — still came to her in her sleep.

The assault on their femininity got worse; after the war, front-line girls found that their service marked them, and not in a good way. “Everybody knows you spent four years at the front, with men,” a girl was told by her mother. “ ‘Army whores. . . . Military bitches . . . .’ They insulted us in all possible ways. . . . The Russian vocabulary is rich,” recalled another. In the United States, military women also faced slanderous accusations of immorality, though not to the same degree. So the front-line girls were well-advised not to talk about their service. There is another reason their story was buried: People everywhere wanted to put the war behind them and return to normal life, but in the Soviet Union, forgetting became crucial.

That’s because anybody could be branded an enemy of the people for saying the wrong thing. As one woman puts it, after all the sacrifice — some 20 million war dead, military and civilian — “Stalin still didn’t trust the people.” One fighter lost her highly decorated husband to 10 years of forced labor when an informer turned him in for remarking that heaps of Russian corpses blunted his sense of triumph. “After the Victory everybody became silent,” the author writes. “Silent and afraid.”

Alexievich did an enormous service, recovering these stories. The outsize Soviet role in defeating the Nazi army and liberating Europe is often neglected. If men who fought on the eastern front have gotten short shrift, how much truer of the women. As a female rifleman scrawled in charcoal on the Reichstag: “You were defeated by a Russian girl from Saratov.” That may be an overstatement, but it is not altogether untrue.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/the-significant-neglected-role-of-russian-women-in-world-war-ii/2017/08/04/534e0598-67f2-11e7-9928-22d00a47778f_story.html

jeglackin5:20 PM PST I took flight lessons from an American woman, one of the "99s", the first women's flight group (there were 99 licensed women pilots then). She was a WASP in WW II, transporting planes to men who would fight with them. She told me she flew a B-25 to Alaska for delivery to the Soviet Union. A Soviet woman pilot came to pick up the plane. She checked every part, every engine bolt, and every wire. She spent hours asking questions. Finally she said, This is MY plane! I will fight with this plane! It must be the best!

The woman said the flight home was the longest, saddest of the war. She could not do what this girl was going to.

#The Sisterhood

[stephanieritaclark]

January 4-6 Make-Up Post

I said I was going to post a daily warm-up every day, but then I panicked about meeting a deadline and then stopped. It's still my intention to do this, though. To make-up for it, I'm going to post three a day until I catch up.

Let's begin:

January 4, 2019 - Rebirth (Taken from this Pillowfort prompt)

He watched her lay unmoving on the concrete floor. Her hair and skin was already darkened from the strange fluid oozing from her pores. The gums were solid black, and more of the dark fluid crawled over her teeth, forming pointed, ebony teeth. Blue eyes were already solid black in color. The black ichor flowed from beneath her fingernails to form hard talons, and it poured from her toenails to cover her legs and form a reptilian hind quarters.

The process took a long time. A strip of sunlight from the closed window moved across her face three time before her body was completely covered in the thick ichor of demons. It was only after a fourth time that he heard her take a choking gasp, and though the sound was inhuman and raucous, it brought a warmed to his chest.

This woman, who had once held him to her chest and cried with him whenever he woke screaming in the night, who fed him from her breasts even when she was too weak to feed herself, who made sure he had plenty to eat for the rest of their time together, was finally awake.

He watched her train her lidless eyes on him, bare her teeth at him as she let out a catlike snarl, and climb to her feet. Tears flowed from his eyes as relief relaxed the muscles of him body.

He had been so anxious, so tense when she had been lying there still, and now she was ready to take away the pain that had settled in heart as soon as those men had come and taken everything away from them, including his mother’s precious life and the use of his legs.

She snarled as she stumbled toward him on her legs, like a faun just fallen from its mother. The smell of decay filled his nose as she blew her hot breath on his face. A single talon pressed to his cheek, setting his nerves on fire as she sliced through the flesh, and then she pressed a talon to his throat, cutting through his soft windpipe.

His blood seeped into lungs. It brought more tears to his eyes when his body struggled against his will to keep himself alive, but it was comforting that she seemed to have bit of humanity left in her. She stayed, and she waited for him to take him last breath.

January 5, 2019 - Bullet (from here)

Dunn looked at the gold-colored thing. It was little, only a little bigger than his longest finger, but he recognized it: a bullet.

“You think it’s worth anything?” Green asked.

Both of them were huddled close together, shielding the eyes from the sun as they looked at the ancient thing in Dunn’s hands.

“To rich folks maybe,” Dunn said. “We ain’t got any guns that can shoot these things anymore.”

“Yeah, but museums collect this stuff, right?”

“We ain’t gonna anything from a museum. We gotta sell this at one of them auctions or something.”

“I don’t think we’ll get anything out of this in an auction.”

“More’en we’ll get any other way.”

Green shrugged his shoulders, but his dirt-covered face said he did not believe him in the slightest.

“We could give it a shot, I reckon.”

Once the pair was done digging through the ruins of some ancient house, they took their findings to an auction. The man who ran the place looked less than pleased at the two scruffy men who had stepped through the door, but as soon as he got a look at the old weaponry and useless ammunition, his eyes lit up.

“How about we place this in the auction tomorrow,” the fancy man said, rubbing his hands together in his excitement, “and we get to keep forty percent.”

“Forty percent?” Green repeated. “Now wait a minute here--”

“That’s too damn much, mister,” Dunn interrupted. “We spent a lot time digging and blowing up rocks to get our hands on these. I ain’t takin’ less than ninety percent.”

The man’s face went red, and he glared at the two ruffians.

“Forty percent is standard in this kind of place,” he insisted

“We get eight-five or we ain’t got a deal.”

“I don’t think you understand that you’ll been earning a lot of money off these--”

“Yeah, and we ain’t gonna let you screw us outta that money. I mean, I’m willing to pay a fee, but I ain’t takin’ less eighty percent.”

“Quit changin’ the number, you idiot!” Green whispered, elbowing his friend in the side.

The man sighed.

“Fine, we’ll take only thirty percent.”

“Fifteen,” Dunn said.”

“You already said twenty.”

“So, you agree to twenty for you?”

“No, sir, that’s not--”

“We get eighty percent, or we walk away and take our treasures somewhere else.”

The fancy manlet out another sigh, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll talk to my boss about this.”

They were able to talk the deal down to 25% for the auctioneers and 75% for the two friends. The next day, the auctioneers raised over 100 caps for each bullet, and the young men walked away 1650 caps richer.

This one is weird. Haha Whatever.

January 6, 2019 - Classical (from here)

Tears streamed down her face as her fingers danced across the keyboard. Her movements were fast but graceful. She hit every note at the perfect time. The tempo was upbeat, and the classical peace told a happy story. No one stood why the girl was crying. Perhaps she was overwhelmed with how well she was playing.

“Stop laughing at me!” came the boy’s muffled voice. “I hate the snow!”

It was perfect. The girl had clearly spent a long time on it, and the hard work had paid off.

When the piece was over, the girl on the piano bench for a moment, and then she slowly climbed to her feet and faced the crowd of people who cheered, coming to their feet once they had her attention. Tears streamed down her face, and her lips trembled as she bowed before the noisy crowd. She clutched at the small golden pendant hanging around her neck.

The necklace was a beautiful thing, her first initial made of rose gold and red gems, but its sender was long gone from this world.

Yeah, that's all for today. Hopefully it's all there. I had a bit of trouble with the app.

Find me on Twitter and Pillowfort, too. I'm a lonely soul.

#writeblr #creative writing #writers #writing #flash fic #flash fiction #short story #daily #daily post #daily prompt

[vamporchid]

Just for fun!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? I can’t use milk...or dairy...so almond or soy, so more cereal...but I hardly ever eat cereal so yeah...

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? I’m Canadian, it’s a given lol

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Uhm, bookmarks oh and business cards LOL

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? coffee, two sugar and cream, tea all on its own or with honey

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Yup, thanks mom...I has a huge mouth lol

6: do you keep plants? Ahahahaha yeah. Sorry laughing to a friends response as I’m doing. Yes I do, all kinds and I have a garden and flower garden.

7: do you name your plants? K not that crazy...

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Uhm, I do traditional drawing, paintings, crafts, tattoo and now I’m venturing into airbrushing. Oh and I can’t forget writing.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Who doesn’t?

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? My right side. Stupid spine.

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? Squirrels. Ahahaha. Bucky and Squirrels.

12: what's your favorite planet? Other than earth? Pluto. It’s neglected.

13: what's something that made you smile today? My two year old son, getting excited when his sisters let him play with their stuff. He’s funny.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Farm house chic with chickens!

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! In the late 1950′s, by way of something labeled Project A119 the United States decided it would be a good idea to launch a nuclear missile at the moon. Why? Evidently they felt it would give them a leg up in the Space Race. Fortunately, however, the plan was never executed.

16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Lasagna, but I can’t eat it no more...

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?  Fire engine red!!

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.  I grab a cop by the collar once to try and drag him to my friend that was in trouble. That ladies and gentlemen is not the correct way to get an officers attention.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? I used to, not anymore.

20: what's your favorite eye color? Green

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. My black and pink school bag. I actually used to live out of in College. I refuse to get rid of it even though my husband hates it.

22: are you a morning person? No!

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?  Write, read or draw!! Oh and crafts.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? @amethystflame, she’s my witness, muahahha. Squirrels.

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? Mayor’s office LOL.

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? None, I’m always getting new footwear.

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Uhm Bubblegum.

28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset. Sunrise means I’ve been up all night, again. Ugh.

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? @amethystflame, every morning we always text each other good morning lol

30: think of it: have you ever been  truly scared? Hells yes. One of my kids almost died. Scary.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. No socks in bed, but other than that I like them lol. But not in the summer.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Broke into the mayors office, that is where I’ll end that LOL

33: what's your fave pastry? Apple turnovers are underrated.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? A pink seal, Nicky. My kids use it now.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? They are pretty, I’ll use them, but it’s not like that’s all I use. I use whatever is on hand.

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? Green Day

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? Clean! Major OCD!!

38: tell us about your pet peeves!  Oh there’s not enough time for this!

39: what color do you wear the most? Blue or green, black as a shade.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? Like random jewelry? Well I have a Lapus Lazuli pendant I ordered from Egypt with a clear quartz stone on it. It’s suppose to help with all kinds of things. And I love things that have to do with Egypt. So yeah.

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? Gail Z Martin’s The Summoner Chronicles.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! Timmies, I am Canadian. That is all.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My husband lol.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Is never a good answer?

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?  Hellz Yes!

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.  Can’t think of any

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?  Span and Klik! Nasty!!

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?  Zombies and yes I’m still terrified.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I haven’t bought either in years.

50: what's an odd thing you collect?Knives, I guess. Because I collect a bunch of things.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Person, uhm my husband, True Love by Pink. Fictional Character, Winter Soldier, Simple man by Shinedown

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? Anything Marvel or cats lol

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? Rocky Horror picture show, beetlejuice and pulp fiction.

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? My Two year old, when his dad left for work this morning.

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? My ex was driving me nuts. I kept telling him if he kept claiming I was nuts, that I would start to act like a psycho. I was decorating an Xmas tree and hit him in the face with around 25 Xmas glass ball decorations. That night we got to spend the night at the hospital getting his eyes washed.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Random acts of generosity or kindness.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?  I always do and I love Queen, still sends shivers down my spine when I listen to them.

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?  At this very moment. Well I’m into the wine and @amethystflame is into the vodka ahahahaha.

59: what's your favorite myth? I was gonna write good men aahahahahaha. Shut up you laughed. I don’t believe in myths. They are stories that probably happened that got some pazzazz at some point.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? Yup. Edgar Allen Poe. The Pit and The Pendulum.

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? The dumbest gift I’ve ever given was probably to my sister, a grow a man and some stress ‘balls’ ahahaha. Received...spongebob square pants season two...I don’t watch that cartoon...

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? No. But I do have a glass of hot lemon water every morning.

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I have OCD, everything organized lol.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Black, it’s night and it’s not a clear night.

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?  My old work friends, but I actually just got to go visit them this past weekend after not seeing the for 14 years. Woot.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Daffodils, sunflowers, cat tails and fall leaves!!

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Uhm, gloomy lol

68: what's winter like where you live? I live in Northern Ontario Canada, cold, long and tons of snow. TONS OF SNOW.

69: what are your favorite board games? Monopoly and anything that makes you think, like clue.

70: have you ever used a ouija board? Why yes I have, I own one, it’s on my bookshelf.

71: what's your favorite kind of tea? Chai Tea!!

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? Nope, not usually.

73: what are some of your worst habits?  I crack my joints, a lot.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Pink-ish hair. American, Yank. Cap obsessed ish. Naps. Squirrels. Kids. NO MARK!

75: tell us about your pets! Three cats. One is old and dying. One’s a bitch. And the last one well he’s young and huge. I think he’s part lion. Who knows.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Working out.

77: pink or yellow lemonade? BOTH!

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? There are ppl that hate them? WTF?!

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? My husband proposed to my twice. And I got two engagement rings out of the deal lol.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Olive green. Was like that when we bought the house. I’m ok with it, so it’ll stay for now.

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Skip! LOL

82: are/were you good in school?  Yup. Like at the subjects. 90s. Was I a good kid...well my parents threaten to put me into military school lol

83: what's some of your favorite album art? Rob Zombies stuff is always great and so it Tool’s

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?  I have a forever growing list. But my next one is a comic book sleeve with all my fave characters and quotes.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? Yes, Mostly marvel.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?  Concept albums? HUH?

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?  Boondock saints for sure and The Crow.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? I don’t think I understand this question lol.

89: are you close to your parents?  Ish I think. LOL. They’re all good and stuff. I am a lot more now then when I was younger that‘s for sure.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Uhm. Cities? I’m not a city fan. I did really like Mexico when I visited though.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? NYC @amethystflame Comiccon is happening!

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? I can’t eat dairy...

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? Curly Mohawk.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My twin girls, big 11.

95: what are your plans for this weekend?  So far watching Marvel Movies with my friend lol

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?  Mine are on auto update.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? ENFJ, Aquarius, Raven Claw

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? Pfff Can’t remember. Probably lol.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Full Circle by Aerosmith. Simple Man by Shine down. Had Enough and Firefly by Breaking Benjamin. And many more...

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?  Five years into the future so that I can see what I can fix before it happens lol.

Ok. @amethystflame, @chenria, @r2smuse, @mellorian-j if you want!

#forfun

[lesbianrewrites]

The Martian Chapter 9

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page.

This is a Lesbian edit of The Martian by Andy Weir.

Chapters will be posted every day at 2pm EST.

Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

CHAPTER IX

LOG ENTRY: SOL 79 It’s the evening of my 8th day on the road. “Sirius 4” has been a success so far. I’ve fallen into a routine. Every morning I wake up at dawn. First thing I do is check oxygen and CO2 levels. Then I eat a breakfast pack and drink a cup of water. After that, I brush my teeth, using as little water as possible, and shave with an electric razor. The rover has no toilet. We were expected to use our suits’ reclamation systems for that. But they aren’t designed to hold twenty days worth of output. My morning piss goes in a resealable plastic box. When I open it, the rover reeks like a truck-stop men’s room. I could take it outside and let it boil off. But I worked hard to make that water, and the last thing I’m going to do is waste it. I’ll feed it to the Water Reclaimer when I get back. Even more precious is my manure. It’s critical to the potato farm and I’m the only source on Mars. Fortunately, when you spend a lot of time in space, you learn how to shit in a bag. And if you think things are bad after opening the piss box, imagine the smell after I drop anchor. Then I go outside and collect the solar cells. Why didn’t I do it the previous night? Because trying to dismantle and stack solar cells in total fucking darkness isn’t fun. I learned that the hard way. After securing the cells, I come back in, turn on some shitty ‘70’s music, and start driving. I putter along at 25kph, the rover’s top speed. It’s comfortable inside. I wear hastily made cut-offs and a thin shirt while the RTG bakes the interior. When it gets too hot I detach the insulation duct-taped to the hull. When it gets too cold, I tape it back up. I can go almost 2 hours before the battery runs out. I do a quick EVA to swap cables, then I’m back at the wheel for the second half of the day’s drive. The terrain is very flat. The undercarriage of the rover is taller than any of the rocks around here, and the hills are gently-sloping affairs, smoothed by eons of sandstorms. When the other battery runs out, it’s time for another EVA. I pull the solar cells off the roof and lay them on the ground. For the first few sols, I lined them up in a row. Now I plop them wherever, trying to keep them close to the rover out of sheer laziness. Then comes the incredibly dull part of my day. I sit around for 12 hours with nothing to do. And I’m getting sick of this rover. The inside’s the size of a van. That may seem like plenty of room, but try being trapped in a van for 8 days. I look forward to tending my potato farm in the wide open space of the Hab. I’m nostalgic for the Hab. How fucked up is that? I have shitty ‘70’s TV to watch, and a bunch of Poirot novels. But mostly I spend my time thinking about getting to Ares 4. I’ll have to do it someday. How the hell am I going to survive a 3,200km trip in this thing? It’ll probably take 50 days. I’ll need the Water Reclaimer and the Oxygenator, maybe some of the Hab’s main batteries, then a bunch more solar cells to charge everything… where will I put it all? These thoughts pester me throughout the long boring days. Eventually, it gets dark and I get tired. I lay among the food packs, water tanks, extra O2 tank, piles of CO2 filters, box of pee, bags of shit, and personal items. I have a bunch of crew jumpsuits to serve as bedding, along with my blanket and pillow. Basically, I sleep in a pile of junk every night. Speaking of sleep… G’night.LOG ENTRY: SOL 80 By my reckoning, I’m about 100km from Pathfinder. Technically it’s “Carl Sagan Memorial Station.” But with all due respect to Carl, I can call it whatever the hell I want. I’m the Queen of Mars. As I mentioned, it’s been a long, boring drive. And I’m still on the outward leg. But hey, I’m an astronaut. Long-ass trips are my business. Navigation is tricky. The Hab’s nav beacon only reaches 40km, then it’s too faint. I knew that’d be an issue when I was planning this little road trip, so I came up with a brilliant plan that didn’t work. The computer has detailed maps, so I figured I could navigate by landmarks. I was wrong. Turns out you can’t navigate by landmarks if you can’t find any god damned landmarks. Our landing site is at the delta of a long-gone river. If there are any microscopic fossils to be had, it’s a good place to look. Also, the water would have dragged rock and soil samples from thousands of kilometers away. With some digging, we could get a broad geological history. That’s great for science, but it means the Hab’s in a featureless wasteland. I considered making a compass. The rover has plenty of electricity and the med kit has a needle. Only one problem: Mars doesn’t have a magnetic field. So I navigate by Phobos. It whips around Mars so fast it actually rises and sets twice a day, running west to east. It’s isn’t the most accurate system, but it works. Things got easier on Sol 75. I reached a valley with a rise to the west. It had flat ground for easy driving, and I just needed to follow the edge of the hills. I named it “Lewis Valley” after our fearless leader. She’d love it there, geology nerd that she is. Three sols later, Lewis Valley opened into a wide plain. So, again, I was left without references and relied on Phobos to guide me. There’s probably symbolism there. Phobos is the god of fear, and I’m letting it be my guide. Not a good sign. But today, my luck finally changed. After two sols wandering the desert, I found something to navigate by. It was a 5km crater, so small it didn’t even have a listed name. But to me, it was the Lighthouse of Alexandria. Once I had it in sight, I knew exactly where I was. I’m camped near it now, as a matter of fact. I’m finally through the blank areas of the map. Tomorrow, I’ll have the Lighthouse to navigate by, and Hamelin crater later on. I’m in good shape. Now, on to my next task: Sitting around with nothing to do for 12 hours. I better get started!LOG ENTRY: SOL 81 Almost made it to Pathfinder today, but I ran out of juice. Just another 22km to go! An unremarkable drive. Navigation wasn’t a problem. As Lighthouse receded into the distance, the rim of Hamelin Crater came into view. I left Acidalia Planitia behind a long time ago. I’m well into Ares Vallis now. The desert plains are giving way to bumpier terrain, strewn with ejecta that never got buried by sand. It makes driving a chore; I have to pay more attention. Up till now, I’ve been driving right over the rock-strewn landscape. But as I travel further south, the rocks are getting bigger and more plentiful. I have to go around some of them or risk damage to my suspension. The good news is I don’t have to do it for long. Once I get to Pathfinder, I can turn around and go the other way. The weather’s been very good. No discernible wind, no storms. I think I got lucky there. There’s a good chance my rover tracks from the past few sols are intact. I should be able to get back to Lewis Valley just by following them. After setting up the solar panels, I went for a little walk. I never left sight of the rover; the last thing I want to do is get lost on foot. But I couldn’t stomach crawling back into that cramped, smelly rat’s nest. Not right away. It’s a strange feeling. Everywhere I go, I’m the first. Step outside the rover? First person ever to be there! Climb a hill? First person to climb that hill! Kick a rock? That rock hadn’t moved in a million years! I’m the first person to drive long-distance on Mars. The first person to spend more than 31 sols on Mars. The first person to grow crops on Mars. First, first, first! I wasn’t expecting to be first at anything. I was the 5th crewman out of the MDV when we landed, making me the 17th person to set foot on Mars. The egress order had been determined years earlier. A month before launch, we all got tattoos of our “Mars Numbers.” Johanssen almost refused to get her “15” because she was afraid it would hurt. Here’s a woman who had survived the centrifuge, the vomit comet, hard landing drills and 10k runs. A woman who fixed a simulated MDV computer failure while being spun around upside-down. But she was afraid of a tattoo needle. Man, I miss those guys. I’m the first person to be alone on an entire planet. Ok, enough moping. Tomorrow, I’ll be the first person to recover a Mars probe.LOG ENTRY: SOL 82 Victory! I found it! I knew I was in the right area when I spotted Twin Peaks in the distance. The two small hills are under a kilometer from the landing site. Even better, they were on the far side of the site. All I had to do was aim for them until I found the Lander. And there it was! Right where it was supposed to be! Pathfinder’s final stage of descent was a balloon-covered tetrahedron. The balloons absorbed the impact of landing. Once it came to rest, they deflated and the tetrahedron unfolded to reveal the probe. It’s actually two separate components. The Lander itself, and the Sojourner rover. The Lander was immobile, while Sojourner wandered around and got a good look at the local rocks. I’m taking both back with me, but the important part is the Lander. That’s the part that can communicate with Earth. I excitedly stumbled out and rushed to the site. I can’t explain how happy I was. It was a lot of work to get here, and I’d succeeded. The Lander was half buried. With some quick and careful digging, I exposed the bulk of it, though the large tetrahedron and the deflated balloons still lurked below the surface. After a quick search, I found Sojourner. The little fella was only two meters from the Lander. I vaguely remember it was further away when they last saw it. It probably entered a contingency mode and started circling the Lander, trying to communicate. I quickly deposited Sojourner in my rover. It’s small, light, and easily fit in the airlock. The Lander was a different story. I had no hope of getting the whole thing back to the Hab. It was just too big. It was time for me to put on my mechanical engineer hat. The probe was attached to the central panel of the unfolded tetrahedron. The other three sides were each attached with a metal hinge. As anyone at JPL will tell you, probes are delicate things. Weight is a serious concern, so they’re not made to stand up to much punishment. When I took a crowbar to the hinges, they popped right off! Then things got difficult. When I tried to lift the central panel assembly, it didn’t budge. Just like the other three panels, the central panel had deflated balloons underneath it. Over the decades, the balloons had ripped and filled with sand. I could cut off the balloons, but I’d have to dig to get to them. It wouldn’t be hard, it’s just sand. But the other three panels were in the damn way. I quickly realized I didn’t give a crap about the condition of the other panels. I went back to my rover, cut some strips of Hab material, then braided them into a primitive but strong rope. I can’t take credit for it being strong. Thank NASA for that. I just made it rope-shaped. I tied one end to a panel, and the other to the rover. The rover was made for traversing extremely rugged terrain, often at steep angles. It may not be fast, but it has great torque. I towed the panel away like a redneck removing a tree stump. Now I had a place to dig. As I exposed each balloon, I cut it off. The whole task took an hour. Then I hoisted the central panel assembly up and carried it confidently to the rover! At least, that’s what I wanted to do. The damn thing is still heavy as hell. I’m guessing it’s 200kg. Even in Mars gravity that's a bit much. I could carry it around the Hab easily enough, but lifting it while wearing an awkward EVA suit? Out of the question. So I dragged it to the rover. Now for my next feat: Getting it on the roof. The roof was empty at the moment. Even with mostly-full batteries, I had set up the solar cells when I stopped. Why not? Free energy. I’d worked it out in advance. On the way here, two stacks of solar panels occupied the whole roof. On the way back, they would be a single stack. It’s a little more dangerous; they might fall over. The main thing it they’ll be a pain in the ass to stack that high. I can’t just throw a rope over the rover and hoist Pathfinder up the side. I don’t want to break it. I mean, it’s already broken, they lost contact in 1997. But I don’t want to break it more. I came up with a solution, but I’d done enough physical labor for one day, and I was almost out of daylight. Now I’m in the rover, looking at Sojourner. It seems all right. No physical damage on the outside. Doesn’t look like anything got too baked by the sunlight. The dense layer of Mars crap all over it protected it from long-term solar damage. You may think Sojourner isn’t much use to me. It can’t communicate with Earth. Why do I care about it? Because it has a lot of moving parts. If I establish a link with NASA, I can talk to them by holding a page of text up to the Lander’s camera. But how would they talk to me? The only moving parts on the Lander are the high gain antenna (which would have to stay pointed at Earth) and the camera boom. We’d have to come up with a system where NASA could talk by rotating the camera head. It would be painfully slow. But Sojourner has six independent wheels that rotate reasonably fast. It’ll be much easier to communicate with those. If nothing else, I could draw letters on the wheels, and hold a mirror up to its camera. NASA’d figure it out and start spelling things at me. That all assumes I can get the Lander’s radio working at all. Time to turn in. I’ve got a lot of backbreaking physical labor to do tomorrow. I’ll need my rest.LOG ENTRY: SOL 83 Oh god I’m sore. But it’s the only way I could think of to get the Lander safely onto the roof. I built a ramp out of rocks and sand. Just like the ancient Egyptians did. And if there’s one thing Ares Vallis has, it’s rocks! First, I experimented to find out how steep the grade could be. Piling up some rocks near the Lander, I dragged it up the pile, then down again. Then I made it steeper, etc. I figured out I could pull it up a 30 degree grade. Anything more was too risky. I might lose my grip and send the Lander tumbling down the ramp. The roof of the rover is over 2 meters from the ground. So I’d need a ramp almost 4 meters long. I got to work. The first few rocks were easy. Then they started feeling heavier and heavier. Hard physical labor in a spacesuit is murder. Everything’s more effort because you’re lugging 20kg of suit around with you, and your movement is limited. I was panting within 20 minutes. So I cheated. I upped my O2 mixture. It really helped a lot. Probably shouldn’t make that a habit. Also, I didn’t get hot. The suit leaks heat faster than my body could ever generate it. The heating system is what keeps the temperature bearable. My physical labor just meant the suit didn’t have to heat itself as much. After hours of grueling labor, I finally got the ramp made. Nothing more than a pile of rocks against the rover, but it reached the roof. I stomped up and down the ramp first, to make sure it was stable, then I dragged the Lander up. It worked like a charm! I was all smiles as I lashed the Lander in place. I made sure it was firmly secured, and even stacked the solar cells in a big single stack (why waste the ramp?). But then it hit me. The ramp would collapse as I drove away, and the rocks might damage the wheels or undercarriage. I’d have to take the ramp apart to keep that from happening. Ugh. Tearing the ramp down was easier than putting it up. I didn’t need to carefully put each rock in a stable place. I just dropped them wherever. It only took me an hour. And now I’m done! I’ll start heading home tomorrow, with my new 100kg broken radio.

#the martian #the martian andy weir #lgbt #lesbiansafe #lesbian rewrites

[justinjohn]

Mahogany.  1.15.17

I took the subway this morning with a homeless man.

 I know, bizarre. Normally, when the subway doors open, and I walk on and see a person talking loudly to himself (or openly to the rest of the car) with a grocery cart situated next to him piled high with plastic bags, my inclination is to either move all the way to the other end of the car, or to just exit and re-enter through another door altogether. You risk too much: unsavory smells, noise-factor, a possibly terrifying confrontation.

 But not at 6 AM this morning, in an otherwise sparsely populated subway car. I sleepily boarded with my luggage on the way to the airport and plopped down a few seats away from him, undecided whether my proximity to him was based on choice or lack of energy.

I strangely found some comfort in the man, dreads piled high on his head, bundled and tied with a plaid men’s flannel, wearing multiple pairs of pants, pontificating openly about something over and over again that sounded almost like chanting. He was, yes, ‘crazy’, but benevolently so. He seemed harmless, just lost in his own world, like I am much of the time, perhaps a little bit more so since he was talking to no one, but doing the same self-reckoning and trying to make some sort of sense out of this irrational world that I also do. His voice, of notable mention, was striking. It was what I can only describe as a rich mahogany wood, handsome, finished and reflective; it was reminiscent of a strong speaker I’ve heard on the radio before, like MLK or Jesse Jackson or something. Perhaps it was the darkness of the morning or the stiff silence of the subway car, but his voice cut through sharply and memorably. It was strong, distinctive, almost soulful, and its prayerful tones, though unsolicited, were in some ways, strangely soothing.

 From stop to stop on my hour-long ride into Queens to JFK airport, I watched people walk from the platform and start to enter the car before turning and walking into another, or employing my own trick, stepping into the car and walking to the other end to evade any unwanted affront. I don’t blame them. But as I listened to him chant while casually slurping on what appeared to be Go-gurt packet, I couldn’t help but to think of his life for a minute.

 What was he before this all happened? What was his life like? Assuredly he was born into a family that loved him, I imagine, or would at least liked to imagine. It can’t all have been bad, right?  Was he from New York? Did he go to college? Did he have brothers and sisters? I didn’t know him, but from my cursory deductions from his voice and harmless affect, I imagined him being a peaceful being, some sort of activist maybe one day thirty years ago somewhere, using that voice to affect change. I imagined that he, at one point, probably had a life of conviction, where perhaps he sang or spoke in church or taught or something that fit with this persona I’d created. I pictured him in his late teens, in some wild 70s patchwork bell-bottom pants sitting on a blanket on a green campus patch somewhere in the summertime, pontificating a little like this morning, but lucidly, cleanly shaven, with beautiful natural hair that wasn’t tied up into a bun with a button-down shirt, and garnering a little following. I wondered when he became crazy- was it sudden, or was it gradual, starting to slowly lose connection with conscious reality and speaking aloud at will and without prompt. I wondered if something happened. I wonder if maybe he was caught up with something he never meant, or maybe did something, which forever he regretted. Or maybe nothing happened at all, such that he never could get ahead.

He didn’t strike me as a drug addict- there was another story there, and while I’ll never know what it was, it saddened me because, well, no one cares. Routinely throughout the day in New York, homeless people beg for money on the subway trains, and I ignore them. If I had been in this very car going anywhere else at any other time of the day, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about him, moving to a farther area of the car, being annoyed as I checked my Instagram that he was taking up the majority of a car with his heap of possessions, questioning what was inside the bags: plastic bottles or some other thing that homeless people collect. But because in that moment I had so little to distract me, I contemplated him.

 And I realized.

 No one chooses to be homeless. No one dreams of growing up to be living on a subway car. And yet we dismiss this group of people all of the time; chalk them up to being degenerates or people who without proper coping mechanisms, whose deplorable backgrounds had them arriving to this end from the start. And we walk past them or switch subway cars- reducing these people to an ‘inconvenience,’ a hindrance in the way of our busy lives with such great sense of purpose.

If there is one thing I have learned in the past six months after I quit my job, it’s that this way of thinking is a big crock of shit.

 There is no ‘destination.’ Life is not an ‘upward path’ with an apex at the top of of which you look over the edge, dangling your happy little legs, and take a deep breath, sighing, “Guess I made it..” That doesn’t exist. Like, if there’s an apex, in the way that life actually exists, I imagine that to be.. death? Like, nothing really fantastic is coming for you after 75, let’s be honest. Like, maybe you get your pension. You’re lucky if you make it through without a life-altering car accident, a divorce, battling cancer at least once, or forming a prescription drug or alcohol habit. If you haven’t, congratulations. You just got lucky. But none of us gets through life unscathed. We all struggle and cope differently. Some afflictions are quieter and more accepted than others: being addicted to work, obsessed with money or sex.

Some people have outlets to deal with their issues: some turn to the gym, some turn to alcohol, some write four-page narratives about life. It just is what it is.

What we see at face value are the ‘results’ of people, what life has dealt them up until that exact moment. We have no ability to surmise someone’s early life experiences other than the value of our own life-survival kit: stereotypes, which sometimes serve us well, and sometimes don’t. There’s nothing we can really do about this; it’s how we are hard-wired, but I suppose the point is this: we don’t become a certain way in a ‘vacuum.’ We are the product of our environment. Of each other. So we should probably take more interest in each others’ welfare.

 When we see a drug addict in the street begging for money, ostensibly to buy more drugs: is this fate his/her own shortcoming? What if the person was molested as a child? What if his/her parents abandoned the person? Would you have faired better? We all know what it’s like to need an escape from emotional trauma; some people find refuge in different things. However, because we only see the last slide of the ‘presentation’, so to speak, the person on the street corner begging for change, we just assume he/she can’t cope with their problems like ‘we’ can; they are broken, hopeless. Let me tell you something: no one chooses to be a drug addict. There is always a reason it has gotten to that dire place.

 And less: what if someone cheats on a spouse? We demonize them. What if that person’s spouse was cold and unaffectionate for the duration of the marriage? What if that person’s spouse married that person for vanity and that person was stuck in a loveless contract, and finally someone came along, perhaps by mistake, and made him/her feel like something for once in his/her life?

 And so it is with this homeless man. I think we all would like to assume he doesn’t want to work. That he’s probably lazy. Smokes a lot of weed. Why? Because that fits in the stereotype of what we’re taught about homeless people.

 I think as human beings we forget to understand context. We like rules. Endings. Grouping things.  Finished products. We think in terms of black and white, and sometimes, I think people fall victim to circumstance and context.  I’m just saying it’s not always so easy.  

 No one on this planet doesn’t try. There’s no one in this world who isn’t born a tiny, happy baby hoping for the best for themselves and for others from the start, only to be oftentimes struck by the complicated factors of life that can so swiftly either bolster one’s success or thwart one from reaching his/her full potential.  

But no one asks to be subjugated or downtrodden. There’s one who says “I give up” without a reason, no one who makes a mistake and continues to spiral because they want to, no one who opts to be ostracized by society. And yet we feel so obliged to judge.  

 You are not ‘chosen’ as much as I am not, but rather, I think we create these narratives in our lives so we feel meaning. So we don’t feel so aimless. And that is okay. What would life be without purpose, without a job to keep us busy forty to sixty hours a week, without this professional identity, without money or a home? I certainly knew whom I could ask in that moment. Instead, I watched him tether his cart to the subway pole with a piece of fabric and stretch out across the length of three seats and go to sleep.

 I think the point is that we are all just trying to survive this life and this world in the best way that we know how. Live our story however it is going to write itself. We are all struggling in some way. Whether it is with finding love or just finding ‘ourselves’, trying to incorporate a new baby or the death of a loved one, seeking to embrace marriage or just one’s own sexuality, deciding where to spend one’s money with no time and/or family, or trying to deciding where to find money.

 So, why are we so judgmental? Why are we so selfish? Look, what I’m trying to say is that we are all human and just trying to co-exist. It’s not about focusing always on the future when we have no idea how things will play out. And yet, we literally live in a world where we’ve killed off about 60% of the natural habitat for our own needs, cut health insurance for the poorest sectors of our society, and overlooking the rising temperatures of an already feverishly sick planet. I don’t know. Instead of trying to just get ahead, I wish we could work together more, to understand each other more, for one single mahogany voice to unite us in the silence. It’s a perception thing, I guess. And sometimes we think we have everything so figured out, and in other ways, we have no idea that we need glasses.  

Justinthecity.

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[yesdreamilyenchantingbouquet]

Seventy-five years after the liberation of Auschwitz, Jan. 27 is the International Holocaust Remembrance Day, when the world remembers and mourns the victims of the Holocaust.

Please take a moment to read the below guest article and pause for a moment today.

AUSCHWITZ — 75 Years Later Deception Continues

By Gary McCullough

  The whistle bellowed and the tracks creaked, as we slowed, then stopped.  Shaking from the cold, I knew my anxiety would soon pass.  Folded in my vest pocket was my future, my family’s future.  The deed to a dairy farm, complete with four cows.  We had sold most everything in order to secure our peace; to purchase this deed and the train tickets my wife, my two bundles-of-joy and I were now traveling on.

  We brought with us our remaining precious belongings, including my father’s watch, safely tucked in my suitcase.  Monica and Teresa each had their suitcases, stuffed with clothing, most of which their mother had hand-sewn, and assorted treasures my four and six-year-olds had stowed away.  Each held tightly a doll from their Aunt Olga.  My family was ready to start our new life.  Here, far from the war, far from the anger and bitterness that had come with the war.  Here in our new home in Oświęcim.

  …Life is so good here.  Just as they promised.  Not a free ride, but with work, comes freedom.  The winters, they are not so bad, not as they were back home.  Both Margaret and I, we do love it so…

  My beautiful wife was reading aloud the letter for the hundredth time.  A letter written by Ben, the grocer from our neighborhood.  He and his family had come to Oświęcim about this time last year.  Six months ago he had written this letter to his parents.  When word went about town that we would be leaving, Ben’s parents made a present of the letter.  Over and over she read it to the girls, to encourage them on the long trip, to encourage me as well I suppose.

  The doors strained open and the cold damp air flushed my face as I stepped on to the station platform.

  “Leave your suitcases on the platform. Mark your name, age, and nationality on your baggage.  To fail to do so will delay the return of your belongings.”  The announcement was made again in another, and then another language.

  I gathered my family and we walked with the others through a courtyard, then through an iron gate.  Across the gate in bold black painted iron letters “WORK BRINGS FREEDOM”.  A twenty-five-piece band was playing a familiar tune, one that my mother used to hum.  The cheery flower boxes looked strange next to the double-barbed wire fence.  Still it was all quite an unexpectedly comforting welcome.  A distinguished looking man in a physician’s smock approached our growing group and picked a few men and me, most all the young-and-healthy sort, for a chore he said.  Just for a few minutes, he said, then we would be back with our families.  Well, I have made it this far by getting along with everyone. “I’ll be back in a minute honey!”

  Walking away, I glanced back to see my wife and girls walking into the hospital building.  The building with a big red cross painted on it.  Some kind of disinfectant shower, someone mentioned.

  * * * * *

  Attention: “Everyone, the shower here is simple disinfectant, not to worry, it’s not too strong even for your youngest children.  Please remove your clothing and fold them in neat stacks.  Your co-operation is greatly appreciated.”

  * * * * *

  The other men and I walked down some steps, through a tunnel, then waited, and waited.  We were given uniforms and wooden clogs and told to wait in another line.  As I changed my clothes, I slipped the deed into the lining of my cap.  I would just feel more at ease knowing exactly where it was.  It represented years of scrimping and all our savings.

  Finally, we are going somewhere.  Down more steps, another tunnel.  I was impressed by the sturdy construction of the walls.  And in front of us now were two narrow gauge rail carts, small enough for one man to push empty.  We pushed the carts up to where the tracks came to a double wide steel door.  Locked at the moment.

  An official looking gentleman unlocked and swung open the doors.  Without warning my eyes flooded with tears and I dropped to my knees, a cloud of blue-gray haze escaped the through the doorway.  As my eyes adjusted and cleared, I was kicked in the back.  “Get up, to work now!”

  “Doing what?” I began to twist around only to be booted once more.  The other men from the train were as perplexed as I.  We stumbled into the room.  I tripped, as my eyes were still watering, and I landed on something soft, something warm.  It was some, some person, an old man, he was limp.  I looked up; no words came to my lips.  As in a dream as you step off a cliff, you try and yell, but no words come out.  No sound ever comes out.

  Another and another and another body, no blood, no wounds.   There was a young woman, younger than my wife.  Next to her, a baby boy, not a year old, still clutching a brightly painted toy car, as I looked at him, such a beautiful healthy boy, the toy escaped his tiny little grasp, his fingers slowly growing cold.  The vast room was filled with hundreds of naked bodies.  Some of them still hugging each other, others piled on one another. Each one still warm, yet not one breathing.  Who are these people!?  Who were these people!?  What happened?  I looked up, screaming at God, and recognized a round, cone shaped, shower head.

  * * * * *

  In 1992 I visited three death camps in Poland.  On the walls of a building in Stuthoff and several building in Auschwitz, hang the portraits of over a hundred of the millions of victims of the gas chambers.  At both death camps, you can gaze upon piles of shoes, thousands of pairs of shoes, in all sizes.  And literal bales of women’s hair, stacked like so many bales of hay.  And next to the hair-bales are bolts of fabric that had been manufactured from the hair shaved from the heads of thousands of dead, murdered young women.  And suitcases, piled to the ceiling, marked with white paint, the name, year of birth, and nationality of the owner.  Many of the suitcases were of children; five, six, and seven years old.  Another room was full of eyeglasses, the next, brushes and combs, the next room, stacked wall to wall, floor to ceiling, were prosthesis all every sort, legs and arms, and wheel-chairs and crutches.

  This collection, this shrine to “Never-Again,” displayed what was but a fraction of the booty gathered from the killing of millions of mothers, sisters and brothers, husbands and grandparents and children over the years we now call the Holocaust.  These were the items that had not yet been packaged for shipment.   These glasses, shoes, clothing, etc. were to be shipped to people in need, taken from useless non-persons, to go to the sustenance of the higher race.  A guard, would pick through the belongings of the still warm non-person for something to send home to his family; perhaps a needed pair of pants, or a Sunday’s-best dress that his bride would wear about town with him on his next leave, a pair of glasses that would be of use to his mother, she has needed a better pair for oh so long.

  Of all these exhibits screaming of man’s inhumanity toward man, one moved me to tears, a small pile of children’s toys.

  As our tour group exited the building, I approached our guide.  Why didn’t someone stop this?  Why didn’t the townspeople blow the place up?  Why didn’t our allied forces obliterate the death camps?

  Her response was one well thought out.  As a guide at Auschwitz for seven years, she is asked that most every day.  She stated, “Many people for years, much wiser than I, have debated that exact question.  Survivors of this camp have said they would have gladly given their lives to see this place destroyed and the killing stopped.  One thing that most all agree on though, is in regard to the three sets of railroad tracks coming to the camp.  They should have been destroyed.  They knew where the killing was being done.  They had the ability, and even if the tracks would have been rebuilt in a matter of days, thousands of lives would have been saved, thousands of lives!

  Immediately I responded, “You know, that’s what we do.”  Up to this point, she did not know that the entire group touring Auschwitz that day were part of a group in the USA called Operation Rescue.  I went on to explain to her, and to myself at the same time, that when we rescue, we take out the tracks.  We don’t destroy the clinic/death-camp, we don’t kill the butchers.  But for a short period of time we keep the non-persons/the babies, from getting to the death-camp.  We buy a little time for the innocent.

  Two weeks later, while hand-cuffed, from the back of a paddy-wagon,  I found myself preaching to nine of San Antonio’s Finest.  While these officers were arresting and carrying away one limp rescuer after another I began to tell them of my recent trip to the death-camps of Auschwitz, Birkenau and Stuthoff.

  Officer, did you know…

  At the Auschwitz death-camp:

  Many Jews, Poles and others believed going to Oświęcim was an investment in their future?

  At the San Antonio death-camp:

  Many women come here believing that this is an investment in their future.

The Cyclon-B nerve gas was delivered in train cars marked with the Red-Cross as medical

  The killing devices are sold and delivered, and even tax-deductible as medical equipment. A heart injection was sometimes used to terminate the non-person.

  A heart injection is sometimes used to terminate the baby. Many of the bodies were burned in crematoriums, at the death-camp.

  Many of the bodies are burned in crematoriums, at the death-camp. The availability of healthy, live bodies drew many researchers for experimentation and profit.

  The availability of healthy, live bodies draws many researchers for experimentation and profit. They disguised the gas-chambers as hospitals and medical clinics.

  They disguise the abortion-chambers as hospitals and medical clinics. The Nazis dressed up in the clothing of priests, and mocked God.

  Pro-abortion advocates dress up in the clothing of priests, and mock God. Gruesome experimentation was performed, often simply for the sick entertainment of so-called doctors.

  Gruesome experimentation is performed, often simply for the sick entertainment of so-called doctors. Body parts were used for decoration and jewelry.

  Body parts are used for decoration and jewelry. Many, because of their health condition, it was considered dignified and more humane to end their life.

  Many, because of their health condition, it is considered dignified and more humane to end their life. All that remains are the ashes of millions of innocent people.

  All that remains are the ashes of millions of innocent people. Most Christians purchased their freedom by co-existing with the killing.

  Most Christians purchase their freedom by co-existing with the killing. Only a small segment of the Church took a stand against the killing and they were easily dealt with.

  Only a small segment of the Church takes a stand against the killing and they are easily dealt with. Most of the world could not or would not believe that such a holocaust was happening.

  Most of the world cannot or will not believe that such a holocaust is happening. Judges, Police, Guards, all said they were just, doing their jobs.

  Judges, Police, Guards, all say they were just, doing their job. The Church said they were just obeying the law.

  The Church says they are just obeying the law.

  We have simply become more efficient in the disposing of our non-persons.  In part, the job is much easier today because the bodies are smaller and more easily disposed of.

  Then the paddy-wagon door shut and a truck load of Christian men finding themselves on their way to jail began to pray.

  Others prayed aloud, for the mother waiting to enter the soon to be opened clinic, for God to rescue the children who would be killed there that day.  Then it was my time, before God, to open my heart…

  Dear Lord, I remember how angry I was, and still am over that pile of children’s toys at Auschwitz.  How these harmless steps we were taking this morning don’t seem to be a match to the violent death awaiting our holocaust victims.

  How could even a brain-washed Nazi death-camp guard take a toy off the still warm body of a dead child and give it to his child?!  In that sentence, God answered my question with His question:

  “How is it that you, my son, washed by me, give your children toys taken from the children killed at the abortion death-camps?”

  My crushing anger was now, full weight on me.  How can this be, Lord?  I am about to go to jail…again.  I am doing all I know to do!

  “For each child that is killed; his toys will instead be enjoyed by your children.”

  Like it or not I have to face the fact that each day I find something more important to do than saving an unborn child’s life, I have chosen that my job, my comforts, my wife’s clothing and yes, even my children’s toys were more important than the life of an unborn child.

  There is no “feel-good” end to this story; no secret solution.  We have gone too far down the road to Auschwitz.  We have a thousand Dachaus, Treblinkas, and Auschwitz in America, advertising in the yellow pages.

  As the death-camps reared their ugly heads in World War II.  Some of America’s citizens recognized the threat and rose to the challenge.  They didn’t wait for our nation to enter the war, they went to Canada, enlisted, and went to fight Hitler and the Nazi War Machine.  However, most of the nation waited for an official declaration of war.

  But when war was declared, every able-bodied, clear thinking man entered the fight.  If a young man was not serving his country, his courage and manhood was called into question.  Men and women came from the countryside to the cities to work in the factories as part of the war effort.  Factories that produced automobiles and appliances re-tooled to make items needed to win a war.  Housewives conserved everything from nylons to rubber-bands to help beat the Nazis.  And still the ashes of millions of burned bodies testified that we did too little, too late.

  When will the time has come for us to do our duty before God and country in regard to the holocaust of abortion?  When will it be time for every able-bodied, clear-thinking Christian to enter the fight?  If a young man is not saving the lives of innocent children, is his courage and manhood called into question?

  As in Nehemiah, chapter three, everyone from merchants to shepherds set aside their usual job for a time, to rebuild the wall.  Every Christian ministry, God ordained and set apart for a particular need, must re-tool to win this war.  To continue to do business as usual while there are death-camps operating down the street is an insult to our Creator.

  And still the ashes of millions of burned bodies will testify that we did too little, too late.

  In the story, Ben’s letter to his parents was forced and censored.  It was common practice to keep a few Jews, Poles, and others alive for six months.  They would be forced to write home and lie to their friends or relatives about the conditions at Auschwitz.  After the letter was written they would be taken to the gas chamber and killed like the others, then cremated.

  Hanging on the wall today in Auschwitz is a fragment of an actual uncensored letter from Monika Dombke, born 1920, to her mother.  That letter reads:

  Electric wires, high and double

Won’t let you Mom – you won’t see your daughter

So don’t believe those censored letters of mine

cause the truth is different; but don’t cry, Mom.

  And if you would like to seek out your child’s trace

Don’t ask anyone, don’t knock anywhere:

look for the ashes in the fields of Auschwitz

It will be there.  But don’t cry – enough of bitterness here.

  And if you would like to discover your child’s trace

look for the ashes in the fields of Birkenau

They’ll be there – so look for the ashes

In the fields of Auschwitz, in the woods of Birkenau,

Mom, look for the ashes – I’ll be there!

AUSCHWITZ — 75 Years Later Deception Continues Seventy-five years after the liberation of Auschwitz, Jan. 27 is the International Holocaust Remembrance Day, when the world remembers and mourns the victims of the Holocaust.

#Auschwitz #Holocaust #International Holocaust Remembrance Day

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120+ [ABSOLUTELY] Best Attitude Status for Girls in English

The best status collection about Attitude Status For Girls which are too cute to match with your thoughts and feelings! Also, you will get inspiration for your upcoming years of life and able to describe yourself how you feel about yourself. These attitude status for girls are the best ever around the web with lots of funny status for girls which you may use as Whatsapp status update or Facebook messages to share with your friends! We also have a great collection of One Line Attitude Status. You can choose the one that describes your attitude the most from our selection of 120+ Best Attitude Status & Quotes for Girls. It’s your attitude and your life, so show it off.

ATTITUDE STATUS & QUOTES FOR GIRLS

1. “Don’t compare me to other girls. There’s no competition. I’m one of a kind.” 2. “Good girls are bad girls that never get caught.” 3. “If you treat me like a queen, I’ll treat you like a king. If you treat me like a game, I’ll show you exactly how it’s played.” 4. “Smartness is a perfect beauty.” 5. “Good girls are those which can help people, bad girls have no time to help.” 6. “My mind makes me a girl, my attitude a bitch and my class a lady.” 7. “I taught your boyfriend that little thing you like.” 8. “You will find a girl prettier than me, smarter than me, and funnier than me, but you will never find a girl just like me.” 9. “Beauty is only skin deep but the attitude is to the bone!” 10. “Be a girl with a mind, a bitch with an attitude, and a lady with class.” 11. “Not all men are fools, some stay bachelor.” 12. “His story is History, my story is Mystery.” 13. “I love the confidence that makeup gives me.” 14. “Keep your heels, head, and standards high.” 15. “Girls who do not ask for much, deserve it all.” 16. “Always act like you are wearing an invisible crown.” 17. “I may not be the girl that everyone wants, but at least I am not the girl that everyone’s had.” 18. “Do not search for a man that will solve all your problems, he would not. Find one that would not let you face them alone.” 19. “Sometimes I wish I was a little girl again because bruised knees heal faster than broken hearts.” 20. “All girls want is a guy who is taller than her so she can wrap her arms around his neck when they hug and kiss.” 21. “Make a girl happy. That is the most amazing feeling she can ever experience.” 22. “Every girl needs a good guy who can help her laugh when she thinks she will never smile again.” 23. “You cannot compare me to the next girl. Because there is no competition. I am one of a kind, and that is real.” 24. “Think like a queen. A queen is not afraid to fail. Failure is another stepping stone to greatness.” 25. “No matter what a woman looks like, if she is confident, she is sexy.” 26. “A confident woman wears a smile and has this air of comfort-ability and pleasantness about her.” 27. “A girl should be like a Butterfly. Pretty to see and hard to catch.” 28. “Why cannot mosquitoes suck out my fat instead?” 29. “Be what you want to be, be the girl you supposed to be and forget the world.” 30. “Every girl’s dream = to eat without getting fat.” 31. “I am a girl. Do not touch my hair, face, phone, or boyfriend.” 32. “Smart girls open their mind, easy girls open their legs, and foolish girls open their heart.” 33. “When guys get jealous it can be kind of cute. When girls get jealous, World War III is about to start.” 34. “Women are wiser than men because they know less and understand more.” 35. “It only takes one bad boyfriend to realize that you deserve so much more.” 36. “Treat me like a queen and I will treat you like a king. But if you treat me like a game, I will show you how it is played.” 37. “If a girl tells you to leave her alone and you actually do then you have absolutely no brain cells.” 38. “The higher the better. It is more about an attitude. High heels empower women in a way.” 39. “Boys lie more, but girls lie better.” 40. “Girls do what they want, Boys do what they can.” 41. “Guys have no idea how long something they said can stay in a girl’s mind.” 42. “Boys never realize how much one little thing can hurt a girl.” 43. “I will never be any man’s down-time, spare-time, half-time or sometimes. So please, do not waste my time.” 44. “A little black dress is one of the girl’s best friends.” 45. “Only a strong man can handle a strong woman. A weak man will just say that she has an attitude problem.” 46. “Act like a lady, think like a boss.” 47. “No boy is worth your TEARS, and the one who IS will NEVER make you CRY.” 48. “My Knight in shining armor turned out to be a loser in aluminum foil.” 49. “Please don’t interrupt me while I’m ignoring you!” 50. “If people are trying to bring you ‘Down’, It only means that you are ‘Above them’.” 51. “I’m cool but global warming made me hot.” 52. “I’m not heartless, I just learned how to use my heart LESS.” 53. “My BACK is not a VOICEMAIL, so better say it on my FACE.” 54. “Remember one thing, you might be a PLAYER. But I am the GAME.” 55. “An ugly personality destroys a pretty face.” 56. “90% of the time I say ‘BRB’ it just means I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” 57. “Everyone has an annoying friend. If you don’t have one, it’s probably you.” 58. “Good friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, impossible to forget.” 59. “A rule every girl should live by: Just because she’s beautiful does not mean you aren’t!” 60. “A confident woman wears a smile and has this air of comfort-ability and pleasantness about her.” 61. “I’ll never be perfect, but I can be better.” 62. “The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others.” 63. “What matters most is how you see yourself.” 64. “You’re always with yourself, so you might as well enjoy the company.” 65. “Only make decisions that support your self – image, self – esteem, and self – worth.” 66. “Don’t search for a man that will solve all your problems, he won’t. Find one that won’t let you face them alone.” 67. “I love being a girl because I’m my Daddy’s little girl and that rocks!” 68. “Make a girl happy. That’s the most amazing feeling she can ever experience.” 69. “It took me a long time not to judge myself through someone else’s eyes.” 70. “If you don’t have respect for yourself, you won’t get it anywhere else.” 71. “True happiness comes when you can look at your self and like what you see!” 72. “Do not compare yourself to others. If you do so, you are insulting yourself.” 73. “The better you feel about yourself, the less you feel the need to show off.” 74. “Every girl needs a good guy who can help her laugh when she thinks she’ll never smile again.” 75. “Love is so confusing – you tell a girl she looks great and what’s the first thing you do? Turn out the lights!” 76. “I am a girl. I don’t smoke, drink or party every weekend. I don’t sleep around or start a drama to get attention. Yes, we do still exist.” 77. “Girls are like telephones, they love to be held and talked to, but if you push the wrong button you get disconnected.” 78. “A wise girl kisses but doesn’t love, listens but doesn’t believe, and leaves before she is left…” 79. “A wise girl knows her limits, a smart girl knows that she has none.” 80. “The saddest thing for a girl to do is to dumb herself down for a guy.” 81. “We girls, we’re tough, darling. Soft on the outside but, deep down, we’re tough.” 82. “When a girl cries, it’s not usually over one thing. It’s built up anger and emotions that she’s been holding in for too long.” 83. “I love being a girl. I love my identity as female, and I would never trade it for the world. Being a girl is truly an amazing thing.” 84. “I love being a girl because I can wear my hair, long, short, boyish and anything else in between and get away with it.” 85. “I’m a girl. I overreact. I underestimate. I overestimate. I over think everything. I dream big. And when I say I love you, I’m not lying!” 86. “I’m the type of girl that puts on her better smile, her better outfit, and a better attitude and shows him what he left behind.” 87. “Love – A form of amnesia when a girl forgets there are 1.2 billion other guys in the world.” 88. “Girls, if he only wants your breasts, legs, and thighs. send him to KFC.” 89. “Girls are too shy to start it, so take the chance!” 90. “So, I’ve come to the conclusion that we as women are like Ford trucks: We’re tough and made to last!!” 91. “A girl’s prettiest curve is her smile!” 92. “Dear Boys I have sent you a “Friend Request” Not a “Marriage Proposal” so kindly stop overacting :p” 93. “In every girl’s heart, there is a sea of secrets she won’t ever let you swim in.” 94. “Don’t be a woman that needs a man …. Be a woman a man needs.” 95. “If you don’t want your heart to be easily broken, don’t let yourself be easily taken.” 96. “Dear Girl, don’t worry if you’re still single. God is looking at you right now saying: I’m saving this girl for someone special.” 97. “Tell a girl she’s pretty…. and she won’t believe you. Tell her she’s ugly and she will believe it forever.” 98. “I`m a girl but I rather hang out with boys because it is less drama.” 99. “Girls work on their looks, not their minds, because they know boys are stupid.. but not blind.” 100. “We can’t all be princesses. I mean, someone has to bow as I walk past!” 101. “Girls are like police. Even when they get a hold of all the evidence, they still want to hear the truth from you.” 102. “If you think I am BAD than you’re wrong, I’m the worst.” 103. “Just because I don’t start the conversation, doesn’t mean I’m not dying to speak to you.” 104. “If you’re gonna be two-faced at least make one of them pretty.” 105. “Every girl has that one guy who he thinks about before she falls asleep.” 106. “Men wear the pants in the relationship but women control the zipper.” 107. “I may not be the best, but I’m definitely not like the rest.” 108. “Is starting to like someone ” 109. “A woman is not written in braille, you don’t have to touch her to know her.” 110. “My lips are the gun. My smile is the trigger. My kisses are the bullets. Label me a killer.” 111. “Silence is a girl’s loudest cry.” 112. “I’m a girl, I’m allowed to change my mind every second.” 113. “Good girls go to Heaven, bad girls just make you FEEL like you are in Heaven.” 114. “I am a million dollar girl.” 115. “A girl should be two things: Classy and fabulous.” 116. “Behind every girl’s favorite song… is an untold story.” 117. “The most beautiful souls are often captured inside the most broken-hearted girls.” 118. “Never underestimate a girl’s ability to find something out.” 119. “We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.” 120. “I`m a girl. I can be complicated without explanations.”

Also Read: 500+ Really [AWESOME] Attitude Status Quotes and Messages

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Shooting Blanks: What’s Wrong with the Flyers After Getting Shutout by the Wild in Consecutive Games?

This is bad hockey.

So bad in fact, that we are throwing out the concept of takeaways for this one.

(O.K., fine, you want takeaways? Here you go – Brian Elliot was really good for his fourth straight game in goal. Scott Laughton’s line was the only line that was consistently good. Robert Hagg keeps getting better and better as a defensive defenseman and Devan Dubnyk is unconscious right now in net for Minnesota – that’s it).

Seriously, the real problem at hand that needs to be addressed is the state of the Flyers in general.

How is it that the team has a (cough) .500 record (cough) and is in worse shape than it was at this time last season? How is it that the offense is completely non-existent? How is it that questionable coaching decisions continue to get shrugged aside?

If this isn’t an organizational epidemic, it’s getting darn close and somebody needs to come in and fix it soon, or this will be a lost season before we reach Thanksgiving.

Heck, if my historical analysis is correct, it’s almost at that point now.

Come with me down the rabbit hole…

1. A bad spot

The Flyers, at 8-8-2, are last place in the Metropolitan Division but only six points out of first place. That means the division is either really good or really mediocre.

Either way, it’s where the Flyers are situated – behind seven other teams – that is of the greatest concern right now.

Why? Because it’s near impossible to move past enough of those teams to get into the playoffs.

Since switching to four divisions in the NHL instead of six in the 2013-14 season, teams in last place on Nov. 15th have reached the playoffs exactly once (6.3%) – and that was the Columbus Blue Jackets, who made a torrid push in 2013-14 just to get in.

Wait, 16 teams is a small sample size and not necessarily a good enough history to use to define an argument.

Fair enough – let’s take it a step further.

Since the institution of the shootout and the creation of the dreaded loser point in hockey, there have been 64 teams in last place on this date (NOTE: in 2012/2013 there was a lockout-shortened season, so I used Feb. 8, 2013 as the date there as it was the most approximate to the number of NHL games played in the season compared to other seasons).

In that time, only 11 of 64 (17.2%) have rebounded from a last place start on Nov. 15 to make the playoffs.

O.K. – so it’s happened before. Maybe not frequently but it’s happened. And, not to mention, with 18 points, only four teams in that time have been in last place in their division on this date with more points than the Flyers currently have, and two of them made the playoffs (50%) so it’s at least a 50-50 at this point, right?

Wrong. Let’s take it even a step further.

Everyone keeps asking about this odd quirk in the Flyers schedule that has them playing 17 of their first 21 games against Western Conference teams.

Well, that only made it more imperative for the Flyers to get off to a better start, because that means the Flyers will play 48 of their last 61 games against Eastern Conference opponents – and of those 48, 27 will be within the Metropolitan Division.

Well, that’s good, right? More of a chance for them to play the teams they need to leapfrog.

No. Not exactly. Unless the Flyers go off on a ridiculous tear – and by ridiculous, it needs to be more than 10 games, as evidenced last year when they won 10 straight at one point and still missed the playoffs – then they are going to find themselves frustrated.

Because, let’s be realistic, they aren’t going to win them all. And several of them will slink into overtime, which brings the loser point into play.

The Flyers will be on the plus side of some of them and on the minus side of some, but that’s the problem with it, as long as teams still get points for losing from time-to-time, playing catch-up is all the more difficult.

Let me put it this way – the Flyers need to register 75 points in the remaining 61 games to get to that 93-point threshold which many consider the the point total needed to be in the conversation for a playoff spot.

To do that, they would have to go something like 34-20-7 the rest of the way. Impossible? No. Improbable considering the opposition? Yes.

And to think, that’s just to be in the conversation for a playoff spot. Just three years ago the Pittsburgh Penguins were the last team in the playoffs – and they had 98 points. So 93 may not even be enough.

Some will argue that it’s way too early to be talking about this – but I’ve been blowing this horn for years now that It’s far worse to struggle early in the season in the NHL than it is to struggle later in the season.

If you get out to a fast start it’s easier to overcome a bad stretch later in the season than it is to get behind the eight ball and try and work around it.

Nevertheless, here are the Flyers, in last place on a date when 56.3% of the teams previously in their spot on Nov. 15 (since switching to four divisions) were still there come season’s end.

2. The offense is in shambles

Yes the Flyers have been shutout in back-to-back games before, even by the same team (amazingly it was also against Minnesota – in 2003).

But they’ve never been shutout five times in the first 18 games of a season before. I don’t have the stat readily available, but I would venture to guess that not many teams have.

Heck, the Flyers record for being shutout in a season is 10 times – and that was before I was born, so you know it was a long time ago (1968-69).

These Flyers are on pace to tie that before Christmas.

And really, there is no relief in sight. The Flyers are operating with too little talent up front. Plain and simple.

With a couple of exceptions, all of these guys are good NHL role players, so it’s not a knock against them individually, but it’s them collectively that’s the issue.

So much so that the Flyers may be forced to break up the one line that has been productive for them this season to try and add scoring elsewhere in the lineup.

Here’s how bad it’s been:

The only forwards not named Claude Giroux, Sean Couturier and Jake Voracek to score a goal this month are Dale Weise and Valtteri Filppula – who each scored a goal in the same game against Colorado.

That’s six games with only two goals from forwards not on the top line.

And, if you want to really take it to another level, only four times have the Flyers gotten multiple goals in a game from forwards not on the Flyers top line:

Opening night in San Jose (Wayne Simmonds hat trick and Jordan Weal)

The crazy game in Nashville that they lost 6-5 after the bad coach’s challenge (Filppula had two, Travis Konecny and Nolan Patrick)

The blowout of Washington in the emotional home opener (Scott Laughton had two, Filppula and Simmonds)

The loss to Colorado (Weise and Filppula).

Not surprisingly, the Flyers are 3-0-1 in games when they get more than one goal from lines not nicknamed “The Ginger Beard Men.”

But those games are few and far between.

Simmonds has six goals, but three came on opening night. He is now in a 10-game goalless drought, which is the second longest of his Flyers career (he had a 16-game drought in his first season with the team, when he was considered a third liner).

He also only has two assists in those 10 games and, until recently, has been invisible.

That said, he has been playing through a lot of pain. He has a groin problem that won’t go away. He was hit by several shots on his legs, he had oral surgery to deal with the loss or potential loss of several teeth – and he hasn’t missed a game.

But not being 100 percent has taken a toll.

That aside, Simmonds needs to score. The power play has been ugly lately – and that’s where he’s made his bones in this league.

The Flyers aren’t getting enough traffic to the net – and that’s Simmonds’ office.

Frankly, the lack of scoring starts with him. He gets a pass for not scoring at his usual pace, but if he’s healthy enough to play, then he’s got to at least contribute a little bit in his circumstance, and he’s not.

It all snowballs from there.

Filppula got off to a great start, but was replaced on the power play by Couturier and now is off the second line entirely after a failed line shuffle by Dave Hakstol.

He’s been a turnover machine in the last few games and doesn’t play nearly enough good defense to be considered a true checking line center.

Maybe it’s just a rough patch for him, but as a team leader (he is wearing an ‘A’ after all) he needs to improve his on-ice game as well.

Weal was supposed to be a gritty goal scorer willing to be the Danny Briere-type little guy unafraid to go into the greasy areas around the net, but he was lost along the boards for far too many games. He looked better last night as a center, with decent possession numbers (55.17% Corsi For), so maybe there’s something there with him in the middle of the ice, but again – he’s not scoring.

Travis Konecny is an offensive talent, but he keeps getting shuttled all over the lineup and can’t find consistent chemistry with anyone. It’s frustrating to watch and you can see it on his face when he’s playing.

He’s not a good defensive forward, so the Flyers need to find him a home where he can be productive, but if no one else is being productive, then what are his odds?

Even the checking line of Raffl, Laughton and Leier – despite having a pretty solid game last night in Minnesota – they need to start finding the net. Raffl doesn’t have a point yet. Laughton has turned into the old Couturier – reliable defensively, but is struggling to finish, and Leier, for all his great speed, doesn’t get enough shots on net (although he did ring one off the pipe last night).

Weise and Jori Lehtera? I don’t get either one.

I’m fine with Weise as a fourth line forward. He does enough to play there, although Hakstol had him on the second line last night, which is a big no-no.

But Lehtera gives you nothing but size. He’s slow. His passes are slow. He has no shot. He plays on the periphery too much for such a big body. He offers nothing.

This secondary scoring needs to be figured out quickly. And that falls on…

3. The coach

Hakstol should be in trouble as a coach as far as I can see. We’re into his third season and a lot of the same issues remain and he hasn’t found his way out of it.

Look, sometimes as a coach, you can only play the hand you’re dealt – I use Brett Brown as a great example here in Philadelphia – and you can only do as best you can with what you have.

But Hakstol has better talent than Brown ever did in his first three seasons coaching the Sixers – and he’s not doing anything with it.

He doesn’t seem to be all that great of a motivator either – at least not at the NHL level.

There was always a gamble with an NCAA coach with no NHL experience running a team at this level. And while he’s not incompetent, he’s also not getting the results.

John Stevens was fired when he was coach here for being too chummy with his players and not holding them accountable when they didn’t produce. His last few games were a mess offensively – but not to this proportion.

Getting shut out five times in 18 games is evidence of a system that is broken. Sure, the Flyers system offensively was scoring 3.42 goals per game in October, but once it’s on film, other teams figure out how to defend it, and it becomes incumbent upon the coach to find tweaks to the system to keep it functional.

In November, the Flyers are averaging 1.50 goals per game, almost two whole goals less than in October.

It’s not like they aren’t getting chances – the Flyers have been pretty solid as a puck possession team this month (second half of the Chicago game excluded) – but they aren’t finding a way.

And if they keep on struggling to find a way, then maybe they need someone else to show them the way.

156:09

That is the amount of time that has passed since the Flyers last scored a goal.

— Broad Street Hockey (@BroadStHockey) November 15, 2017

    Shooting Blanks: What’s Wrong with the Flyers After Getting Shutout by the Wild in Consecutive Games? published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[deniscollins]

How Much Did That Zipper Cost? With Transparency Pricing, You Know Everything

If you were a clothing retailer, would you do transparent pricing by informing consumers the product’s cost structure, such as: the $185 Artist Smock is made from $31.74 worth of material. Labor — including cutting, sewing and washing — comes in at $20.89. Labor and material wastage, which is time used to take breaks and leftover scraps of material that inevitably go unused in the production of the garment, costs an estimated $63.16: (1) yes, (2) no? Why? What are the ethics underlying your decision?

To make its Kennedy Weekender overnight bag, the accessories and leather goods company Oliver Cabell spends $16.02 on canvas, $11.58 on leather, $5.68 on lining and 78 cents on webbing. The zipper costs the manufacturer $4.27.

In total — including manufacturing, transit, duties and other expenses — the company spends $110.35 to create the bag, which it sells online for $285.

And while most retailers keep such details opaque so that consumers won’t know how big a markup they are charging, Oliver Cabell flaunts the cost breakdown of all its products on its website, so customers can see exactly what they are paying for and how much the manufacturer is charging them on top of its cost of production.

This practice, known as transparent pricing, has been gaining hold among a select group of retailers, who say that it appeals in particular to millennials — who often want to know not only the provenance of the goods they are buying, but also what, exactly, they are paying for.

“Price transparency is crucial for clients who want to be sure that everyone was paid a fair wage along the way,” said Bruno Pieters, founder of Honest By, a clothing and accessories retailer based in Belgium. Employing the slogan “the world’s first 100 percent transparent company,” it uses a price breakdown so extensive it includes the cost of size labels and hang tags. 

For instance, a black organic cotton print T-shirt, advertised as vegan, organic and skin-friendly, costs about $110 (in the European Union, a price that includes the value-added tax) or $90 (elsewhere, without that tax). Among the extensive details customers can learn about the shirt online are that the hang tag (67 cents) is made of 100 percent wood-free cellulose and buffered with calcium carbonate, and the T-shirt itself was knitted and assembled in Germany and cost the retailer about $13.50. (All prices were converted from euros.)

Mr. Pieters explained by email that his decision to present his products this way stemmed from his time at a major fashion house.

“I saw how the companies I worked for and others would move their production from Belgium or France to Vietnam or India, but would still be asking the same prices they asked before,” he said. Other ethical concerns, like fair wages, also informed his decision, Mr. Pieters said.

Scott Gabrielson, who got the idea for his accessories and leather goods company, Oliver Cabell, while working on his M.B.A. at Oxford, said the ability to sell directly to consumers online had a big influence on his decision to use transparency pricing. He wanted to show that, by eliminating brick-and-mortar and other built-in costs, clothing sellers could save shoppers money.

“By cutting out traditional wholesale, you can sell directly to consumers and have a much higher quality product for a much lower price point — the pure economics make that work,” Mr. Gabrielson said.

One of his biggest challenges, however, has been convincing shoppers that the goods he sells are worth the cost, particularly when all that people have to go on are the pictures on his website.

Such skepticism may be on the wane, however, as consumers migrate online from malls and brick-and-mortar retail stores. Natalie Grillon, founder of Project Just, which collects ethics and sustainability data on fashion brands, said she thought transparency pricing would give a leg up to retailers that used it.

“We’ve lost the understanding of the value of the clothes we buy,” Ms. Grillon said. “Pricing transparency and stories behind the scenes help the shopper navigate the decision to pay for a more expensive product.”

For some clothing companies, price transparency is used as a one-off or occasional tool. Take, for example, the New York-based men’s wear brand Noah, which says it tries to merge “the rebellious vitality of skate, surf and music cultures with an innovative appreciation of classic men’s wear.”

Brendon Babenzien, Noah’s owner, said consumers had gotten “very used to paying inexpensive prices for things.” To help them understand the industry, he broke down the production and pricing details of a signature product, his two-toned parka.

This parka retails for $448. The zippers, Velcro, snaps and drawcords come from Italy and cost an aggregate of $16.88. Mesh from Japan costs $2.18 per jacket. A custom label is 75 cents, and sewing and assembly are $122.29 — among other costs.

Mr. Babenzien’s aim is to open shoppers’ eyes to the true cost of making high-quality clothes.

At the opening of a store in London, Mr. Babenzien wrote on his website: “This kid basically walked straight up to me and asked me why one of our jackets costs so much. In his hand, he held a taped seam, water-resistant jacket that I had taken part in making several years ago. He loved it.”

The “kid,” Mr. Babenzien said, asked him: “This jacket has taped seams and cost less than the Noah jacket, which doesn’t have taped seams. Why is that?”

At this point, the store owner said, “I was salivating at the chance to talk about it.”

He told the shopper that “the things we make generally will last longer than other items that are designed to expire quite quickly,” that “cloth often determines the life of a garment” and that “the old saying, ‘you get what you pay for’ is very, very real.”

Going forward, Mr. Babenzien said he planned to use cost breakdowns strategically, in cases when a product might appear to be costlier than a customer might expect.

Other retailers have had similar frustrations. Elizabeth Pape, owner of the women’s retail clothing company Elizabeth Suzann, says the easy availability of cheap clothing has made consumers contemptuous of costlier items, even if they will last longer.

In a blog post, “Money Talk,” on her brand’s website, Ms. Pape gets specific not only about what it takes to produce one of her garments, but also about the economics of running her business. As discount companies like H&M, Zara and Forever 21 started undercutting the prices of places like Gap, J. Crew and Macy’s, those companies cut their prices to compete.

“This has created the perfect environment for the pervasive view of clothing as disposable,” Ms. Pape wrote.

By contrast, the $185 Artist Smock that she discusses in her blog post is “cut and sewn to order, just for you, in our Nashville studio.” The smock is made from $31.74 worth of material. Labor — including cutting, sewing and washing — comes in at $20.89. Labor and material wastage, which she describes as time used to take breaks and leftover scraps of material that inevitably go unused in the production of the garment, costs her an estimated $63.16.

Some shoppers care more about the conditions under which clothing is produced and less about the pricing breakdown. Page Perrault, 28, a banking analyst based in Athens, Ga., who shops at both Elizabeth Suzann and Everlane, an online retailer that advertises “radical transparency,” likes to see why brands price items the way they do. But she doesn’t consider the practice a driving factor in her purchases. “It’s nice to have, but it’s not required,” she said.

Vincent Quan, a professor of business management at the Fashion Institute of Technology, sees the practice as valuable to some consumers — particularly those who are environmentally conscious — but probably of limited use to people who cannot afford to pay extra for finer clothes. “Is pricing transparency transferable to larger brands?” he asked rhetorically.

#Transparency

[jumpsitehq]

200 Best Sarcasm Quotes and Sarcasm Sayings & Messages

Ever wish to be honest without hurting somebody’s feelings? One perfect way to do it is through sarcasm. It’s funny and witty, brings humor into our lives but it gives the most brutal kind of honesty too. So here we collected some of awesome 99 Best Sarcasm Quotes and Sarcasm Sayings & Messages. Even some of the best life lessons we learn are from the most sarcastic quotes we read over the internet or from our dearest friends and family. Although some people find it difficult to understand the hidden meaning of our sarcastic messages, others have no problem in finding the sense of it at all. We also have a great collection of Insomnia Quotes & Angry Status.

200 Best Sarcastic Quotes

1. I’M 2% Cute & 98% Single. 2. All You Need Is Love 5M $. 3. I’M Like Monday. Nobody Likes Me. 4. True Love: I Love More Than Free Wi-Fi. 5. Your Crush + Fast Replies = Imagination. 6. I’ve Never Faked A Sarcasm In My Life. 7. Are You Free Tomorrow? No I’M Expensive. 8. I Love Education But Without Examination. 9. Avracadabra ! Nope. You’re Still A Bitch. 10. You Remind Me Of My Chinese Friend. Ug Lee 11. World Biggest Lie ” I’ll Always With You “. 12. Let’s Just Stay Friends = Never Talk Again. 13. Money Can Buy Happiness, It’s Called “Food”. 14. First Rule Of 2017 ” Never Talk About 2016 “. 15. Conjuring 2 Is For Kids. Real Men Get Married. 16. Not Everyone Likes Me But Not Everyone Matters. 17. If You Are Late, Don’t Rush You’re Already Late. 18. Sarcasm : Just One Of The Many Services I Offer. 19. If You Don’t Have Something Nice To Say, Hush It. 20. I Don’t Understand You. I Don’t Speak Assholian. 21. Always Be Yourself, Except During Job Interviews. 22. Losing Your Best Friend Is Worse Than A Break Up. 23. I Am ” Eats Ice Cream In Winter ” Type Of Person. 24. Single Bell….Single Bell….Single All The Way. 25. Life Is Full Of Fake People. Don’t Trust Blindly. 26. I Would Slap You, But That Would Be Animal Abuse. ( Sarcasm Quotes . 27. Every Year Thousand People Quit Smoking, By Dying ! 28. I’M Single Because Nobody Believes That I’M Single. 29. I Was On Diet For 30 Days & All I Lost Was 30 Days. 30. Yes, I’M Online 24X7, But I Hardly Chat With Anyone. 31. If Nobody Hates You. You Are Doing Something Boring. 32. People Get Mad When You Treat Them How They Treat You. 33. Happiness Is You And Your Best Friend Hate Same Person. 34. Sarcasm Is The Body’s Natural Defense Against Stupidity. ( Sarcasm Quotes . 35. Tip For 2017 : Don’t Get Emotionally Attached To Anyone. 36. My Secret Talent Is Getting Tired Without Doing Anything. 37. Don’t Remind Me How Old I Am ! I’ll Always Watch Cartoons. 38. My Problem Is That I Hate Maths But I Love Counting Money. 39. I Love All The Religions Because They All Bring Holidays ! 40. Studying Is My Drug. But Thanks To God. I Say No To Drugs.

Sarcasm Quotes for Twitter

41. Don’t Be Ashamed Of Who You Are. That’s Your Parent’s Job. 42. Everyone Is Matured Until Someone Brings Out Bubble Wrap ! 43. To Be Old & Wise, You Must First Have To Be Young & Stupid. 44. Sarcasm : Because Beating The Crap Out Of People Is Illegal. 45. The Hardest Part Of My Job Is…Being Nice To Stupid People ! 46. Never Laugh At Your Girlfriend’s Choice. You Are One Of Them. 47. It’s Okay If You Don’t Like Me…Not Everyone Has Good Taste. 48. If You Want A Sarcastic Answer, Don’t Ask A Stupid Question. 49. I Live For Two Reasons. 1 . I Was Born 2 . I Haven’t Died Yet. 50. Tom & Jerry Taught Me That Life Is Incomplete Without Enemies. 51. Dear 2017 : Make Sure You Don’t Come Up With Temporary People ! 52. I’M Actually Not Funny. I’M Just Mean & People Think I’M Joking. 53. I Don’t Believe In Plastic Surgery. But In Your Case, Go Ahead. 54. Brain Logic : Let’s Insult Our Best Friend Ore Than Our Enemies. 55. Just Wanna Be Rich Enough To Buy My Mom Everything She Deserves. 56. Show Me You’re Different & I won’t Treat You Like You’re Typical. 57. Thanks To The Wrong People In Life. They Teach The Right Lessons. 58. Sarcasm : The Ability To Insult Idiots Without Them Realizing It. 59. I’M Sorry What Language Are You Speaking ? It Sounds Like Bullshit. 60. Behind Every Successful Person…There’s Lot Of Unsuccessful Years.

61. Damaged People Are More Dangerous Because They Know How To Survive. 62. Everything Is Like Either Expensive, Illegal Or Won’t Text Me Back. 63. The World Is Filled With Good People. If You Can’t Find One, Be One. 64. 3 People Who Call Me. 1. My Mom. 2 . Wrong Number. 3 . Customer Care. 65. Closing Your Eyes After Turning Off The Alarm Is Very Dangerous Game. 66. Don’t Respect Her Because She’s A Girl. Respect Her Because You’re Man. 67. If The Teacher Tell You To Get Out, It Means You Have Won The Argument. 68. The Luckiest Are Those Who Fall Asleep As Soon As They Close Their Eyes. 69. Why People Buy Guitars Now A Days. 10% To Play, 90% To Click Profile Pic. 70. I Want One Of Those Jobs Where I Get Paid For Travelling Around The World. 71. Don’t Judge A Book By It’s Cover. Don’t Judge A Student By His Percentage. 72. May Be You Should Eat Some Makeup So You Can Be Pretty On The Inside Too. 73. My Girlfriend Is So Good At Playing Hide And Seek. I Haven’t Found Her Yet. 74. We Don’t Need Cctv Camera In Our Country. Neighbours & Relatives Are Enough. 75. When People Ask Stupid Questions I Feel Obligated To Give Sarcastic Answers. 76. I Don’t Care What People Think Of Me. At Least Mosquitoes Find Me Attractive ! 77. When I’M Free No One Texts Me ! & When I’M Busy. Bam ! Still No One Texts Me ! 78. True Bonding Is When You And Your Friends Are All Angry About The Same Thing. 79. If You Think Nobody Cares If You’re Alive, Try Missing A Couple Of Car Payments. 80. We All Have That One Teacher Who Give You Amazing Marks On Matter What You Write.

Sarcasm Quotes for Facebook

81. From The Moment I Saw You, I Knew I Was Gonna Spend He Rest Of My Life Avoiding You. 82. Babies Are So Lucky. They Can Sleep All The Day And Everyone Still Would Be Proud Of Them. 83. I’M Sorry I Hurt Your Feelings When I Called You Stupid. I Really Thought You Already Knew. 84. You Cried All Night ? You Were Hurt ? And No One Knows ? Congratulations ! You Are Mature Now. 85. I May Look Calm, But Inside My Mind I’ve Killed You 20 Times, In 5 Mins, In 20 Different Ways. 86. My Attitude In Exams. They Give Me Questions I Don’t Know. I Give Them Answers They Don’t Know. 87. I Can Only Please One Person Per Day. Today Is Not Your Day. Tomorrow Doesn’t Look Good Either. 88. I Love Texting People Who Reply Super Fast. It Makes Me Feel Like They Really Want To Talk To Me. 89. Bring Able To Respond With Sarcasm Within Seconds Of Stupid Question Is A Sign Of A Healthy Brain. 90. At Age Of 25, Others Want To Get Married And Have Kids But I Want My Parents In The Backseat Of My Audi 91. There Are Two Types Of People In The World. 1 . People Who Understand And Appreciate Sarcasm 2 . Idoits. 92. Askhole. A Person Who Constantly Asks For Your Advice, Yet Always Does The Opposite Of What You Told Them. 93. Need Money For College. Need College For A Job. Need A Job For Money. Who Was The Mastermind Behind This System ? 94. What’s The Point Of Education If You Still Throw Garbage On Street To Be Ultimately Picked By An Uneducated Person ? 95. If You Want To Change The World, Do It While You’re Single. Once You’re Married You Can’t Even Change The T.V Channel. 96. Not All Girls Are Made Of Sugar And Spice And Everything Nice. Some Girls Are Made Of Sarcasm, Wind And Everything Fine. 97. I’M Sorry, I Didn’t Realize That You’re And Expert On My Life And How I Should Live It ! Please Continue While I Takes Notes. 98. The Whole Purpose Of Sending A Text Is To Get A Reply Within Seconds Or Minutes Otherwise I Would Have Sent A Letter By F***In Mail. 99. My Future Wife Would Be Probably Texting Her Boyfriend About How They’re Gonna Stay Together. Haha, See You In A Couple Of Years, Sweetie. 100. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings, because I guarantee you not one bit of my self-esteem is tied up in your acceptance.

101. They say women speak 20,000 words a day. I have a daughter who gets that done by breakfast. 102. Excuse me, which level of hell is this? 103. When I’m feeling down and someone says “suck it up”, I get the urge to break their legs and say, “walk it off”. 104. You know that little voice inside your head that keeps you from saying things you shouldn’t? Yeah, I don’t have that. 105. You know what I like about people? Their dogs. 106. People who reply to my sarcasm with sarcasm are my favorite. 107. Have you ever met someone and thought, “There goes the reason why contraceptives were invented?” 108. I’d slap you but that would be animal abuse. 109. Most people have “Ah ha” moments. I have “Oh for f..ck’s sake, f..ck this shit” moments. 110. I have to stop saying how stupid you can be. Some people are starting to take it as a challenge. 111. I think Dildo is a perfectly acceptable insult. I’d call you a d..ck but you’re not real enough. 112. If your phone doesn’t ring, it’s me. 113. When something goes wrong in your life, just yell “Plot Twist” and move on. 114. If someone points at your black clothes and asks, whose funeral it is, you just look around the room, and answer, “haven’t decided yet.” 115. Sweetie, leave the sarcasm and insults to the pros. You’re going to hurt yourself. Go play in traffic. 116. What’s a queen without her king? Well, historically, better. 117. Abracadabra! Nope. You’re still a b..ch. 118. Oh. I’m sorry. Did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours? 119. When people see you laying down with your eyes closed, they still ask “Are you sleeping?” And I’m like, “No. I’m training to die.” 120. Come here you big, beautiful cup of coffee and lie to me about how much we’re going to get done today.

Sarcasm Quotes for Whatsapp

121. My alone time is sometimes for your safety. 122. Sometimes I wish I could get a refund on the time I have invested on people that weren’t worth it. 123. I wish more people were fluent in silence. 124. Deja Poo. The feeling that you’ve heard this crap before. 125. I’m a lady, but when I’m mad, I am an evil sadistic demon spawned b..ch from hell that will make you regret the day you were born. And when I’m happy, I like to bake cookies and shit. 126. I’m an odd combination of “really sweet” and “don’t mess with me.” 127. I am in one of those moods where I just want to throw a book at someone’s face and be like: I facebooked you. 128. Controlling my tongue is no problem. It’s my face that needs deliverance. 129. Trying to understand some people is like trying to pick up a turd by the clean end 130. Hmmm, I’m going to file your opinions right here between “f..ck this” and “f..ck that”. 131. I’m not petty, I’m dead ass disrespectful and I will straight up disrespect you if you want to play that petty game. Your feelings will be hurt. 132. Everything I like is either expensive, illegal, or won’t text me back. 133. Some people are a human version of a migraine. 134. Grammar. The difference between knowing your shit and knowing you’re shit. 135. If only closed minds came with closed mouths. 136. People think I’m shy because I don’t get involved in their conversations. The truth is, I don’t give a f..ck what they’re talking about. 137. I hate it when I think I’m buying organic vegetables but when I get home, I discover they’re just regular donuts. 138. It’s a beautiful day to leave me alone. 139. Congratulations! You’ve managed to make me feel like a worthless piece of shit again. Would you like an award for that? 140. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings when I called you stupid. I really thought you already knew.

141. Life is a soup and I’m a freaking fork. 142. Some people are just treasures that you just want to bury them. 143. Sweetie, I’m going to need you to put those few remaining brain cells together and work with me here, Okay? 144. In order to insult me, I must value your opinion. Nice try though. 145. I’ve got heels higher than your standards. 146. If you don’t like and still watch everything I do, b..tch you are a fan. 147. I may look calm but in my mind, I’ve killed you three times. 148. Oh sure, you’re smart. Sesame Street smart. 149. Don’t worry about what I’m doing. Worry about why you’re worried about what I’m doing. 150. I’d rather be someone’s shot of whiskey than everyone’s cup of tea. 151. Oh, my bad. I’m sorry for bothering you. I forgot I only exist when you need me for something. 152. If you don’t want a sarcastic answer, don’t ask a stupid question. 153. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh. No one cares. 154. Oh, you hate me? Join the club! There are weekly meetings at the corner of F..ck You St. and Kiss My Ass Blvd. 155. I’m 97% sure you don’t like me but I’m 100% sure I don’t care. 156. Your flexibility amazes me. How do you get your food in your mouth and your head up your ass all at the same time? 157. I don’t have a bad temper. I just have a quick reaction to bullshit. 158. Listen, I’m a nice person. So if I’m a b..ch to you, you need to ask yourself why. 159. Good morning world! Your little ray of sarcastic sunshine has arrived! 160. People say I act like I don’t care. It’s not an act.

161. I try not to laugh at my own jokes but we all know I’m hilarious. 162. You are the result of 4 billion years of evolution. So act like it. 163. I’m sorry, I don’t take orders. I barely take suggestions. 164. I am the friend you have to explain to your other friends before they meet me. 165. It’s nearly time for my Psychotic Break. 166. I know I don’t have to be sarcastic, but the world has given me so much material to work with. I would hate to be wasteful. 167. Here’s a tissue, you have a little bullshit on your lip. 168. Only dead fish go with the flow. 169. Some people will only like you if you fit inside their box. Don’t be afraid to shove that box up their ass. 170. If I say “First of all”. Run away because I have prepared research, data, and charts and will destroy you. 171. In my defense, I was left unsupervised. 172. I am a nice person. Just don’t push the b..ch button. 173. The B..ch Slap. Keeping a..holes in line since 1836. 174. Warning. I’m bored. Things could get dangerous. 175. I am currently experiencing life at the speed of 15 wtf’s per hour. 176. Interviewer: What do you make at your current job? Me: Mostly mistakes and inappropriate comments. 177. I’m confident my last words will be, “Are you fu…ng kidding me?” 178. I’ve come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than f..ck. 179. We all have problems. Some of us just choose not to post them on Facebook. 180. In all honesty, things would’ve never worked between us. I’m a unicorn, you’re a donkey; I’m majestic, and you my love are just an ass.

181. It must be hard putting makeup on your two faces every day. 182. Nothing brings a group of a…holes together faster than something that’s none of their business. 183. Don’t be an a..hole to me, cause then I have to be an a..hole to you. And I’m way better at being an a..hole than you are. 184. My decision-making skills closely resemble that of a squirrel when crossing the street. 185. Some people are like Slinky’s. Pretty much useless but make you smile when you push them down the stairs. 186. I would like to confirm that I do not care. 187. Of course, I talk to myself. Sometimes I need expert advice. 188. Breaking someone’s trust is like crumpling up a perfect piece of paper. You can smooth it over but it’s never going to be the same again. 189. Please cancel my subscription to your issues. 190. Be the reason someone smiles today. Or the reason they drink. Whatever works. 191. Patience. What you have when there are too many witnesses. 192. Good judgment comes from experience. And experience? Well, that comes from poor judgment. 193. I don’t know how to accept compliments. So thanks, suck a d..ck or whatever. 194. I need a cocktail. Hold the tail. 195. I’ve met some pricks in my time, but you my friend, are the f..cking cactus. 196. I don’t always tolerate stupid people. But when I do, I’m probably at work. 197. Quick Tip: Mind your own motherf…ng goddamn business b..ch. 198. My loyalty cannot be bought. However, it can be rented. 199. I’m definitely a morning person but often choose to sleep straight through it. 200. Mom: What did you learn in school today sweetheart? Me: Obviously not enough. I have to go back tomorrow.

In every sarcastic remark we hear, there is always some truth behind it. It’s easier to express our feelings to other people by being sarcastic. It makes the person laugh a little and accept the advice you say without them feeling offended. But being sarcastic can be a little harsh as well. We find ourselves using sarcastic quotes or remarks usually when we deal with our friends and family members. We use it as a way of dealing with issues in relationships, in decision making, and in life in general. If you want to know why sarcasm has now become a meaningful way to express one’s feelings, you have to familiarize yourself with them.