They call dogs mans best friend, but we ignore the humble potato. Have they been with us as long as canines? No. That's why they're putting in so much effort to fufill our every need.
One day you're going to wake up and realize you love your potatoes. That they love you. The entire time, you'll know what you need to do. It will hurt, as it always does, as you boil and mash this tuber that was once your closest companion, but in return, they will give you a full days nourishment and only ask for a little more butter this time.
Sometimes you just need a pair of cold, steel balls to fondle. Maybe they remind you of home, maybe it's just stress relief, maybe you miss your father, nobody is going to judge.
Just given the record with 11 alone constantly breaking, I think it's beyond just not testing. They just flat out don't use their own product in any capacity, it seems.
It was supposed to be my birth name, actually. The entire time my mom was pregnant, I absolutely refused to take my hands off my genitals for ultrasounds or I just kept turning, so they had no fucking clue what I was gonna be. They assumed a girl based off what the doc told them, and my dead name was kinda a last minute fill-in.
They never hid this fact, happily told me about other name choices when I asked, but Rose was always at least my dad's favorite and my mom's top "acceptable" choice. When my egg finally cracked, I tried other names but Rose just... Felt like a birthright. Like for 30+ long years there was the real me just begging for the mask to say my name. Nothing else felt like me.
So long as you use it responsibly and to help codify our rights, you have my vote.
We'll bring this before the Council of the Trans for further discussion. You'll know in 1-2 weeks, and then it takes another week to schedule the surgery.
Red/white plaid skater dress, black leggings, heavy shitkicker boots. Personal accessory choice would be my trans-colored heart ring collar, and a leather bracelet on one wrist for asymmetry.
She's definitely trickier, but I think she gets extra bounce after hitting an enemy with her aerial hammer swing? I feel like that's how I remember playing her more, trying to keep bouncing with the hammer to keep speed.
My cats are just as bad, if not worse, than any dog I have ever had. I have never spent as much time and energy stopping another living being from eating things as the ones I currently have.
And it's not like they're being underfed! They have constant access to kibble, and are given fresh wet food twice a day. They're even given extra wet food than what they really need just in case someone's super hungry that feeding session!
It's gotten to the point I can't even let them see bags of chips. They don't even actually want the chips, they just know it's food they haven't smelled in the past .5 seconds, so they wanna open the bag!
And then there's when I add dangerous(for cats) spices. Onion? Garlic? They want it all the more. I swear, if I put onion and garlic on a plugged-in charging cable, they'd die happily, cause those are the top three things the little suicide risks want!
"Hand me the cart" has become my personality at work. These fuckers don't pay me enough to be sober or give a fuck. They barely pay me enough to come in.
As a former Alabama resident(It was a free house, and I am not a wise woman), that "could be" isn't needed. Same way it's not "they could be on meth", they're from Alabama, they're on meth.
With the emptiness, self reflection and accepting that I had a hole to fill with positivity. I had lived so long with negative and repressive thoughts that it left a void. Reminding myself how happy I now felt, a place for the euphoria all these new experiences were bringing, positive thoughts towards myself and towards my new community. Even if you're struggling with it being a new experience, putting your thoughts, your words into helping other fledglings can be a very big, positive step for a lot of people, including yourself.
It can help solidify your own experiences in your mind, reinforce their feelings and your own, and act as a frequent reminder to yourself as to who you really are, especially on shaky/dysphoric/low days.
And trust me, a lot of us were scared we were doing the wrong thing. That it wasn't a good choice, that we just didn't know what we really wanted. There's a bit of advice that gets thrown around often in the trans community, that if you're spending this much time thinking about it, if you're putting in this much effort, you're most likely on the right track about yourself, and all that negativity is the self-doubt you've lived with for so long.
Find things that help you feel more you. It's different for everyone, in their own ways. A big thing for me is shaving my legs and then throwing on a pair of comfy leggings. I can't explain why, but the whole ritual and the feeling of smoothness and softness immediately reminds me that I made the right choice because I feel so feminine, and it feels like ME.
Finding those things that help bring out the euphoria, and beyond that the sense of self, are reinforcing. They help us find who we really are, this person who has spent our lives living below the surface, and create anchor points for us to look at and be reminded. It's also a form of self-love and care, something that I think a lot of us need. Loving yourself is accepting yourself.
Sorry for double comment, hands went stupid and I deleted the other one.
When I came out to my ex-wife, the first person I really opened up to in my life about things, I experienced something similar. It was like the real me finally got to breathe, and all the stress, the fight, went away. I didn't feel the need to keep trying, because there was no effort needed anymore. It felt almost apathetic, in a way.
What I came to realize was, for me, that was my skin finally fitting. It wasn't that I didn't care so much as I was finally comfortable, and that comfort had been absent for so long, I didn't recognize it for the first few months. I was so used to the eternal internal struggle that I felt almost empty without it.
I'm sorry, it sounds like you're already having a bad day, but there's also zombies on your lawn.
Lemme make a pot of mashed potatoes and get extremely drunk. We can change this.
They call dogs mans best friend, but we ignore the humble potato. Have they been with us as long as canines? No. That's why they're putting in so much effort to fufill our every need.
One day you're going to wake up and realize you love your potatoes. That they love you. The entire time, you'll know what you need to do. It will hurt, as it always does, as you boil and mash this tuber that was once your closest companion, but in return, they will give you a full days nourishment and only ask for a little more butter this time.
Sometimes you just need a pair of cold, steel balls to fondle. Maybe they remind you of home, maybe it's just stress relief, maybe you miss your father, nobody is going to judge.
Just given the record with 11 alone constantly breaking, I think it's beyond just not testing. They just flat out don't use their own product in any capacity, it seems.
It was supposed to be my birth name, actually. The entire time my mom was pregnant, I absolutely refused to take my hands off my genitals for ultrasounds or I just kept turning, so they had no fucking clue what I was gonna be. They assumed a girl based off what the doc told them, and my dead name was kinda a last minute fill-in.
They never hid this fact, happily told me about other name choices when I asked, but Rose was always at least my dad's favorite and my mom's top "acceptable" choice. When my egg finally cracked, I tried other names but Rose just... Felt like a birthright. Like for 30+ long years there was the real me just begging for the mask to say my name. Nothing else felt like me.
If that's what you're getting from your high level, I want what you're smoking.
At least they know their dad gets clean to get dirty.
IT'S THEIR FAULT FOR MAKING THE BEARS SO DAMN SEXY!
Could I get mine swapped for a chainsword instead?
I want to be able to handle anti-trans heresy appropriately.
So long as you use it responsibly and to help codify our rights, you have my vote.
We'll bring this before the Council of the Trans for further discussion. You'll know in 1-2 weeks, and then it takes another week to schedule the surgery.
Red/white plaid skater dress, black leggings, heavy shitkicker boots. Personal accessory choice would be my trans-colored heart ring collar, and a leather bracelet on one wrist for asymmetry.
If you're halfway there, just keep marching. It'll take the same time to go in either direction, and you might as well have something to show for it.
You pause a quarter of the way. That way you know you require serious investment into your anger to keep going.
That takes it halfway off. There's two breasts, so multiplayer code.
Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, b, a, SELECT, then start.
She's definitely trickier, but I think she gets extra bounce after hitting an enemy with her aerial hammer swing? I feel like that's how I remember playing her more, trying to keep bouncing with the hammer to keep speed.
My cats are just as bad, if not worse, than any dog I have ever had. I have never spent as much time and energy stopping another living being from eating things as the ones I currently have.
And it's not like they're being underfed! They have constant access to kibble, and are given fresh wet food twice a day. They're even given extra wet food than what they really need just in case someone's super hungry that feeding session!
It's gotten to the point I can't even let them see bags of chips. They don't even actually want the chips, they just know it's food they haven't smelled in the past .5 seconds, so they wanna open the bag!
And then there's when I add dangerous(for cats) spices. Onion? Garlic? They want it all the more. I swear, if I put onion and garlic on a plugged-in charging cable, they'd die happily, cause those are the top three things the little suicide risks want!
"Hand me the cart" has become my personality at work. These fuckers don't pay me enough to be sober or give a fuck. They barely pay me enough to come in.
As a former Alabama resident(It was a free house, and I am not a wise woman), that "could be" isn't needed. Same way it's not "they could be on meth", they're from Alabama, they're on meth.
With the emptiness, self reflection and accepting that I had a hole to fill with positivity. I had lived so long with negative and repressive thoughts that it left a void. Reminding myself how happy I now felt, a place for the euphoria all these new experiences were bringing, positive thoughts towards myself and towards my new community. Even if you're struggling with it being a new experience, putting your thoughts, your words into helping other fledglings can be a very big, positive step for a lot of people, including yourself.
It can help solidify your own experiences in your mind, reinforce their feelings and your own, and act as a frequent reminder to yourself as to who you really are, especially on shaky/dysphoric/low days.
And trust me, a lot of us were scared we were doing the wrong thing. That it wasn't a good choice, that we just didn't know what we really wanted. There's a bit of advice that gets thrown around often in the trans community, that if you're spending this much time thinking about it, if you're putting in this much effort, you're most likely on the right track about yourself, and all that negativity is the self-doubt you've lived with for so long.
Find things that help you feel more you. It's different for everyone, in their own ways. A big thing for me is shaving my legs and then throwing on a pair of comfy leggings. I can't explain why, but the whole ritual and the feeling of smoothness and softness immediately reminds me that I made the right choice because I feel so feminine, and it feels like ME.
Finding those things that help bring out the euphoria, and beyond that the sense of self, are reinforcing. They help us find who we really are, this person who has spent our lives living below the surface, and create anchor points for us to look at and be reminded. It's also a form of self-love and care, something that I think a lot of us need. Loving yourself is accepting yourself.
Sorry for double comment, hands went stupid and I deleted the other one.
When I came out to my ex-wife, the first person I really opened up to in my life about things, I experienced something similar. It was like the real me finally got to breathe, and all the stress, the fight, went away. I didn't feel the need to keep trying, because there was no effort needed anymore. It felt almost apathetic, in a way.
What I came to realize was, for me, that was my skin finally fitting. It wasn't that I didn't care so much as I was finally comfortable, and that comfort had been absent for so long, I didn't recognize it for the first few months. I was so used to the eternal internal struggle that I felt almost empty without it.