catch me at the age of 80 watching the 18th homestuck epilogue from the nursing home
Halloween is coming up so this is a little reminder to not be an asshole when you see a thousand Harley Quinn costumes. Yes, the market is saturated with an abundance of Harley’s but it really doesn’t effect you okay so let people have their fun with their pigtails and daddy shirts. Don’t turn this into Fake Gamer Girl callout culture 2.0 and start quizzing people to “see if they are real Harley fans” (check Reddit if you don’t believe this is actually happening). Let’s not call these people names like basic, hoes, sluts, or anything else simply because you aren’t happy with their choice of costume. Mind your own business, let everyone have fun, and enjoy your shitty Halloween party.
Out of all the things that I expected to happen, Bart Simpson making a cameo appearance in a manga was not one of those things.
what’s really freaking me out though, is how he looks just like bart
My new meds make my skin throw a fit. It’s not terribly bad, just a few things here and there, but it’s bumming me out because I’ve never really had too many run-ins with acne.
My four-year-old sister, however, is under the impression that it’s just “3D freckles”, and that they look very, very pretty. She wants all of my freckles to “pop out”, especially the ones across my nose; they’re her favourite.
And it puts me in this weird position where I can’t say, “No, this is acne, and it’s bad,” because I don’t want to teach her that it’s a bad to have unclear skin, you know?
Because the more I think about interactions I have with children, the more I realise that children will consistently compliment “flaws” until they’ve been taught not to.
Like, a kid at the library, whose sister has vitiligo, saw my scars once and suggested that his sister and I should be cats for Halloween, since I have “tabby skin” and she has “calico skin”. “I can be a black cat,” he immediately added. “It’s not AS cool, but they’re the spookiest.”
When I started losing weight, my little brother immediately demanded that I gain it back, because I wasn’t as comfortable to cuddle with anymore.
And my other little sister always wants to wear her paint-stained clothes to school so that “everyone can tell [she’s] an artist”.
I don’t know. I guess talking to little kids just reminds me that all of this superficial shit we worry about really is 100% made up.
