Never ever accompany me to the zoo unless 1. you’re prepared to hear every possible retainable piece of information about everything we pass 2. hear me say “baby” in a really high pitched voice a few hundred times and 3. spend an ungodly amount of time staring at sleeping hyenas
guess who’s back
jesus is back
tell a friend
if you ever feel the need to comment on the appearance of someone’s breasts, please consider this first:
- is it an embarrassing situation (e.g. oblivious nip slip, pasta sauce on tit)
- is it a life threatening situation (e.g. tit is on fire)
if the answer to either of those is no, do not comment on the breasts.
Remember there was almost another twilight book but someone leaked it so Stephanie Meyer refused to finish and I’m 98% sure it was Robert Pattinson and god bless him
remember how it was exactly the same twilight book but written from edward’s point of view and 4920573984029% creepier
What is up with people putting each others bodies down? Like there’s this perfect ideal of a rapidly deteriorating slimy animated meat sack and if your meat sack doesn’t adhere to it you get ridiculed and dehumanized???
Everyone’s bodies are disgusting when you objectively thinks about it, so enjoy yours while you can! Treat your meat sack well! Don’t treat your meat sack well! Whatever! Just love your beautiful meat sack.
Your body is utterly disgusting, and that’s okay. We’ve got species-wide rose-colored glasses that help us love each other despite all the snot, blood and shit we’re lubricated with. We have a hole going down our middle that processes our food. We’re SENTIENT DONUTS, SUCKING NUTRIENTS FROM ACTUAL DONUTS.
Incorporeal alien consciousnesses have seen us, mentally shrieked, and turned up their non-existent noses at our collective hideousness. Our shitty sweaty bone bodies are probably the whole reason we haven’t been given transdimensional space travel. But it wasn’t because the cluster of sensory features on your socially-equipped faceplate aren’t symmetrical enough.
HOWEVER. We did invent a coping system long ago that’s built on constantly asking ourselves “which one of us ghastly brain pedestals is the more attractive ghastly brain pedestal”. And you can’t deconstruct that system with a few pithy paragraphs about self-love, alas.
A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools.