Profile avatar
bees.bsky.social
i come home from the bar with a skip in my step and rosy cheeks and catsongs on my lips and sweet sentiments for my beloved. the moon smiles on my whimsy
490 posts 189 followers 203 following
Regular Contributor
Active Commenter

bowling green vimeo.com/1063460154

speaking out

same bitchass, different motherfucker

welcome to bluesky! every week we do a fun little thing called the bone tithe. its a fun and mandatory way of bringing the community together by constructing a bone monster out of parts of everyones skeletons

you just know the dude who made this was like I HATE THESE WOKE DRESSES! IT’S UPSIDE DOWN! REMEMBER WHEN MEN WERE MEN AND WOMEN WERE WOMEN WHO WORE BUSTLES? RETVRN!

one of the most beautiful things i’ve ever read. i keep coming back to it

yee

stuff i been doin

All I can really say at this point is if everyone isn't watching how trans people have lost basic rights and protections on a scale that hasn't been seen in decades in the span of 72 hours and realizing that even if you aren't trans there's nothing stopping it from happening to you, you're a fool

I think using the phrase, "Ukrainian self-determination" is completely disingenuous to what the phrase, 'self-determination' means. The idea comes from Marx's theory of the state. which is determined by the conditions of capitalism. Those fighting for Ukraine are the capitalist class. 1/2

delivered this build to its owner (@bees.bsky.social) today. now i get to build one for me :)

ME: Yeah I'm a trans woman OLD GUY: Hm. We had a name for "that" kinda person back in the day ME: Oh. What was it OLD GUY: Comrade. ME: Oh! OLD GUY: We called em that because we bet they were Russian ME: Oh OLD GUY: Because Russian women are sexy ME: Oh! OLD GUY: Even the trannies Me: Oh

pascal -> procedural haskell -> hunktional

we need sorkin rehab centers imo

Going back in time to make whoever invented the term “egg” log off permanently

on yr back, can't move. breathing takes pure will. homogenous gray sky, spiked log wall just a few yards ahead. muffled shouts and clanging. awful beard guy smiles down at you from parapet before pouring hot oil on you. you can just tell he's flemmish and named, like, Norbert. you're so mad.

he squints at me through the dust. our hands don't move yet they clench harder than ever before. never even see him draw. just a blink and i taste blood. he's walking up to my collapsed form. "sorry kid. we just don't like synth guys"