It’s Border Control, I assume they’d pick the cruelest possible option.

You already know the answer. They’d pick the cruelest possible option.

I’m tired, boss.

Joy, knowledge, self control, and virtue:

He’s got none of them.

There’s so many moving parts and so much corruption within the system. I don’t have high hopes for this, but I hope our rapist-in-chief gets what’s coming to him.

I’ve seen Les Miserables, I know how this goes.

The important thing is that humans grow and improve; expecting a perfect knowledge of theory and practical applications from the outset, shouldn’t be a thing.

That’s about when it died for me too. The first few years of being in America, I was overcome with culture shock and 🦅🦅🦅 that I never understood what was going on, but when I was 16 and 9/11 happened, that fell away pretty quick.

Because I was eleven once.

I remember there was once a time when I experienced civic pride.

Now there’s civic shame and civic anger.

But! Imaginary number go up! Line go up!

Max Caulfield’s grandpa had a dorm? Neat.

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Requiesce in urina.

I don’t think anyone would vote for a tired, disabled trans woman with two strokes and two jobs, who has nothing more than an associates degree.

But I will do what I can.

I’m jealous of NYC right now, wish someone had those sorts of policies in Portland.

The first step is to go to an art supply store and buy a beginner’s brush set, and acrylics or watercolors that give several different hue options between. Take art classes to learn what you’ve got and how to use them, whether that’s at a school, a community class, with friends, or even following along with Bob Ross.

Eventually, you’ll see that your own labor with your two hands is infinitely more impressive and amazing than whatever forgettable drivel you’re trying to squeeze out of technology now.

Damn. I’m taking stock of everything we’ve lost in the headline:

• no reference to “slammed,” “burned,” or other intense attack words
• accurate summary of the situation
• nothing overstated
• no key details left out
• isn’t a listicle
• nothing inviting the reader to see more by promising the rest of the headline in the article, none of that saved-you-a-click shit

My god, this might actually be good honest journalism!

Put effort in. Poses, lighting, some measure of a narrative. Use a decent camera instead of your phone’s front-facing camera with the flash on.

I think the loudest and longest laugh I ever got was at the very end of Untitled Goose Game. Not gonna spoil it for anyone, but once I figured out the joke that had been stewing for three straight hours, it had me laughing for the rest of the night.