She’s pretty and she looked kind of like a weirdo.
This is the story of a squirrel
The other day I returned from the grocery store with my mother toting ten-pound reusable bags on either arm. Tucked neatly behind my family’s other car at the base of the driveway were two premature mammalian lifeforms that looked like dogs that were shorn, bleached, and put through a shrinky-dinks machine [not sure about the proper past-tense here (shrinky-dunked?, shrinky-dank?)] - they were barely the size of a disappointingly slim Taco Bell burrito. I unknowingly arrived in the middle of a wake, my brother and my father accompanying my animal-loving neighbor whose horrific yet awestricken expression made her look like she’d just seen the ghost of Lassie ascending to heaven. Another unfamiliar dog-walker had posted up a shoebox in front of the little critters to shield them from view “in case there were little kids living at the house.” Dog-walker had already picked out a fitting casket and the Animal-lover spoke to having appropriated a spot in her backyard for their burial as she scooped them up with a paper towel.
I’ve found that these things tend to attract a crowd. Maybe it’s because everyone knows that tragedy+time=comedy and we all want a great story to tell our friends later that week (I say as I write fully self-aware that this may be what I am doing). For whatever strange reason humans seem compelled to feed on the misfortune of others, my neighbors arrived in droves, drawn to the looks of horror plastered on all our faces. Oddly enough, we were all met with relief when we discovered that the animals were, in fact, not premature dog fetuses at all, but rather, squirrel babies. Conversations and speculations petered out from there; while most of us were worried about dead dogs lying in the street, no one really cared about whether or not the squirrels would live [except Animal-lover, who promised to nurse one back to health and attempted to excuse herself to “go burry a squirrel baby in (her) backyard.” Three times].
The truly saddest part of this story came the following day, when I returned home from an outing to find tufts of fur mixed in with leaves and twigs in the same spot on the driveway. My mother was out on the sidewalk, in nearly the same position as the previous day, looking vaguely distraught. When I asked her what had happened, she spun me a short yarn that in my mind turned into the figurative scarf that will be (in all improbability) the plot of the next Disney-Pixar short: she had seen a fully-grown squirrel scamper in and out of the tree above our driveway as if searching for something. It frantically tore apart the leaves and pieces of fur (it’s own fur, mind you), and hurried all around the tree and back down to the bushes at the base. What appeared as a nest for these veritable vermin was a clear 15 foot free-fall from where we had previously discovered the premature barely-breathing babies. And then I knew why my mother was sad. Here were two empty-nesters side by side, the pain of loosing one’s children right out of the womb just as real and palpable as watching them drift away over the course of a childhood, eventually moving away for good. I told her it was all very depressing, we made momentary eye contact, and she agreed, promising to sweep it all away so we wouldn’t have to see it anymore.
Of course, the whole metaphoric resonance of this story is contingent on the reader’s belief that an animal mother is capable of feeling emotions similar to a middle-aged human mother living in the modern world whose youngest child is about to leave for college. So maybe the squirrel babies are just kind of gross and unsightly but whatever man that’s up to you I’m still going to option this to Pixar I mean shit it’s like the next Toy Story 3 or something, I mean can you even imagine how cute the little animated squirrel corpses would be in Dolby digital 3D.
I miss Linn & Giff <3
never not reblog
In honor of her retirement, here’s a post dedicated to the most radical (in every sense of the world) teaching team of all time. So much respect and admiration for these two.
As a socio-economically-privileged-biracial-heterosexual-cisgender-woman, some of my biggest struggles in life will be:
- combating rape culture;
- proving that my successes in life have come as a result of hard work in spite of inequality due to my race, and not because of some supposed advantage from affirmative action;
- fighting sexism to make my voice heard in the workplace;
- striving to be an ally against oppression towards LGBTQQIAA individuals without overshadowing/silencing their voices;
- navigating life as an individual who is a member of two racial groups and not “half” of anything, and;
- being able to finish enough of my soy latte before the milk starts to curdle
To the little hooligans who set off a bomb inside a pumpkin 30 yards away from my house,
You scared the shit out of me and forced me to acknowledge my neighbors, a few of whom I have described below:
1) A woman who called the fire department, then the police, then went back to her house and asked us to ring her if any of them were cute
2) A man wearing a Golf Wang shirt
3) A girl wearing a sweatshirt expressing her devout love of cats
4) A man who made an inappropriate joke about Russian people (to my Russian neighbors), and would not shut up about Moltov cocktails and Wes Anderson movies.
So, in short, I hope you’re happy you ruined my Saturday night.
this heat is more oppressive than a wealthy white hetero cisboy
Reference humor is the best
because it’s basically a massive inside joke between educated, cultured, interesting people.
i think i should have spent this summer trying to kick my internet addiction
They say admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. “They” are wrong.
A new, weirdly specific racial slur, or a new oddly flavored sandwich cookie?
So Flight of the Conchords and Dave Chappelle and John Mulaney and Kristen Schaal and Demitri Martin are going on a comedy tour (!!!!)
Aaaaaaannnd it’s sold out
Everything is bigger, more sexist, and less democratic in Texas!
Because who needs rights when you have conservatism and cowboy hats?
Oh wait that’s right me and every other fucking minority on the planet.
Also I will just take the reproductive rights and leave the conservatism. And the cowboy hats. No one looks good in cowboy hats.
I am not doing anything of value this summer and I will never go to college
Feeling - thoroughly inadequate
Me: Oh, sorry I was late, I just realized that all the clocks in my house have been running slowly for many years and I think it might actually be detrimental to my health if I change them at this point so.....
Victoria from Victoria’s Secret’s Secret
And now a word about rape culture:
One thing that particularly bothers me about living in a society where women are blamed for their own sexualization and resulting attacks and violence is the pervasive mindset that a woman’s clothing inherently means something about who she is as an individual or what she is desirous of sexually. Few things frustrate me more than hearing other women try to exonerate rapists or justify their actions by claiming that the victim wouldn’t have been attacked if she was dressed differently. And when I say few things, I mean it - laundry list of petty gripes aside (lady who cut in front of me in the check-out line because you claimed your little rugrat daughter was, “saving your spot,” I’m looking at you).
The reason this argument bothers me is because I have concrete evidence that refutes these claims. I believe that my argument is fairly convincing, if one is willing to concede that most people like cheap things. All one has to do is visit a mall on Black Friday to see that every good American loves a good sale.
This morning, I visited Victoria’s Secret, the mecca of patriarchal sexuality and moderately over-priced undergarments covered in glitter, to scrape through the bargain bins with my fellow capitalists for their semi-annual sale. Nothing much is all that horrible about Victoria’s Secret itself, aside from the posters of impossibly thin women on the walls, but their sister store, Pink, is proverbial the teenage-spring-break-porn-star daughter of the woman who frequents Victoria’s Secret. Still, I’m a sucker for my good friend Clearance, and feel into the trap of buying some of their underwear.
My point here is what I noticed on nearly every pair of panties in the store. Painted in bright neon colors, they boast slogans across the front and back like “too hot” and (ironically) “too cool”, or more dangerously “take me away”, “kiss this”, “eye candy”, “let’s play”, and “unwrap me”. We live in a world where it doesn’t matter what messages women communicate verbally, all it takes is some horrible attacker to undress her an there it is for the world to see, her panties “asking” to kiss her crotch. But the problem is just that - I just may be speaking out of turn here, but I’m going to go out on a limb an guess that most women don’t want randos to “take me away”.
Yes, I did my best to avoid it, but due to the natural American human urge to be a penny-pincher, I couldn’t help but buy some of the underwear. Most I purchased were innocent enough, with zebras and unicorns and shit, but I will admit that one of my favorite styles only came in my size, on sale, with “too cool” on the front. And to summarize the point of this “word” (or 530 words, rather) I am a female, who has some clothes that people will consider promiscuous, borderline “slutty” even, and I DO NOT WANT TO BE RAPED; I AM NOT ASKING FOR IT.
But I do like moderately-overpriced undergarments on sale, and I am too cool. And I guess that’s my Victoria’s Secret.
Also, there was a woman working at Victoria’s Secret whose name was Victoria , and just what the fuck I mean that’s magical like shit they must’ve had to automatically hire her or something.
If I ran the college board
There would be a part at the end of the demographics section of the SAT where one has to check their privilege. For every agent group there would be a 100 point deduction - just to level the playing field a little bit.
Is this a rant about
a) the state of systems of oppression in our society
b) general hatred of the college board
c) none of the above
d) illogical answer you never would’ve learned about anywhere but from an expensive SAT tutor
Answer: both A &B; you’re wrong always because this is the college board and we have a monopoly on your future and life is a fucking nightmare.