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Peacocks are hilarious, really. They really are just like

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Do you have a source for the women-cats thing? Would be interesting to read up on

Kissojen Maailmanhistoria by Petri Pietiläinen.

(yes, I'm trying to read more books in finnish this year because honestly my grip of my first language has gotten weaker from using english so much)

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Also hey, cultural history time: The reason why cats are associated with women wasn't ultimately and originally about women as sly, cruel, or capricious creatures, but about cats as mothers to their kittens. And yes, sure, reducing womanhood to motherhood and a woman's worth to her fertility is Much Bad, but nonetheless I want to stress that the reason cats became the symbol animal of so many goddesses and were associated with women from thereon wasn't over some "cats and women are sly and selfish, dogs and men are straightforward and loyal uwu" dichtonomy.

It was about cats' tendency to go "I am 4kg of whoop-ass and if you try to touch my eight beautiful children I will fucking kill you."

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Story concept: A gang of women who have gathered together and hang out due to having a similar background - none of them were originally people. They're all different variations of Mythical Fairytale Lady That A Man Almost Married, and they were all kind of stranded here in a human form after the man who wanted them discovered that actually she isn't any easier or any more pliable than natural human women.

The selkie and the swan maiden who both had their coats stolen, but neither of them is delicate or graceful. The swan maiden is exactly as swans are - she's dignified for as long as she's allowed to do as she pleases, but her response to being inconvenienced is First Of All How Dare You, Infinite Wing Smack Attack. The selkie was never going to be a good housewife either, she's lazy and goofy and refuses to take anything seriously. She likes following swan maiden around and watching her terrorise people. They bond over a mutual interest in flooding the bathroom and honking at people.

The celtic fae who wasn't tricked by a human man into marrying him, as a matter of fact her ex-husband insists that she tricked him. She's the only one who actually married the man who seduced her, which she did 100% just for the shits and giggles, and because Fae Divorce Court is an absolutely hilarious shitshow. And much like the selkie is paired with the swan maiden, the fae is close friends with the kitsune, who also voluntarily took a human form out of a trickster's desire to fuck with people, and enjoys hanging out with the fae just to see what kind of utter chaotic bullshit she comes up with.

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Whenever truly awful people tell me what they think their god thinks, it doesn't make me believe in their god, but it kind of makes me wish that it worked like that. Like it's needlessly awful to tell someone that you think medical intervention is wrong, because it was god's will that this person should die, but some part of me finds that strangely inspiring. I exist to spite god and he is powerless to stop me.

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While I can understand why some people have a complicated relationship with their parents, or mixed feelings about cutting them off, that's just never been me. The thought of wishing they were there to help or advise me when things are scary would never cross my mind because I have never been in a situation that could have been improved by having them there. They wouldn't help when they could, and couldn't help when they wanted to.

Their presence brought me no comfort, and their absence has brought me no grief.

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You ever get two songs stuck in your head at the same time because your brain saw some association between them and short-circuits into a loop of flipping back and forth between them, and produces the most cursed possible remix mashup out of the two? I've currently got that, and the songs are Sweet Lemonade by Rusty Cage, and look at my horse, and if any of you have been looking for inspiration for the worst possible song mash-up ever, this one's on me. I don't want to suffer this alone. Just picture your brain going

Then we can fill our glasses up With sweet.... Lemonade

Sweet lemonaaaaaaaaaaade~

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Lmao okay, the time is up, so it's time to do the Explanation Breakdown:

I do, indeed, have a cockroach tattooed on my back. It's a very tasteful black and white piece of the insect. It serves as my reminder of how little other peoples' opinions matter - the entire world could hate you and wish you dead, but all you need to do in order to survive is to be really hard to kill.

This one is also true. The person in question is my grandmother. The picture in question is a childhood photo of me, my sister, and our cousin, at the ages of about 5-7, playing in grandma's garden in nothing but sun hats. Finnish culture has no nudity taboo, but there is a distinct division between sexual and non-sexual nudity, and naked children are unqestionably the latter type, so these are simply perfectly normal baby pictures just as much as fully clothed ones. Obviously not ones you can post online, but not weird to have in family albums. Or framed in your kitchen, I guess.

This is the false one. I was born without wisdom teeth.

While most things on the list are technically correct but trickily worded, this one is 100% straightforward true. I had been on HRT for a little over a year when we met, and my chosen name is old-fashioned enough to give just a little bit of "idk it could be gender-neutral" wiggle room, and since the finnish language doesn't have gendered pronouns, so asking what pronouns I use wasn't an option. However, as a bisexual and a determined goblinfucker, he figured he's perfectly fine with all possible options.

This is the one that wins me every "two truths and a lie" round. Also straightforwardly true. The eastern white pelicans of London Zoo, which apparently turn pink during mating season, and they were beating the shit out of each other either because it was mating season, or just because pelicans are dicks in general.

True by technicality. My family was always toxic, but my sister smacking my hat on the floor of a church with zero warning was the final straw. Our mother agreed that she was right to correct me, but our disagreement was about whether my sister could have verbally communicated her dismay before resorting to physically correcting me more harshly than she would ever handle a dog.

Speaking of which, this one is also true. My sister's dog was a fine and honourable, law-abiding man who understood commands to such astonishing degree that he could deliberately refuse to comply if he was ordered to do something he was Not Allowed To Do. However, if shit got real and push comes to shove, he would turn into a rage-blind berserk that made no difference between friend or enemy. And our mother's dog was such an annoying jackass that he could've made the patron saint of dogs want to kick him. I grabbed my sister's dog by the collar to pull him away, and he grabbed me by the arm with his teeth.

The fact that "my sister threw me headfirst against a doorknob" has been deemed the Least Likely To Be Bullshit is fascinating. To be entirely fair to her, we were both under five years old and it was an accident. She had one end of a skipping rope tied around her waist, and I was holding the other end. She ran faster than I could, and when she turned a sharp corner, Newton's first law of motion got to me and I kept moving forward, right at the balcony doorknob. We had been unsupervised because mom had trusted us to be smarter than that.

This is medically unverifed as of yet, but there's been enough reason to suspect it that I've gotten blood tests done about it. I'm yet to hear of the test results, though. But if it is true and I have an unusually high toxin metabolism, I blame the rampant alcoholism of my father's bloodline.

Back when I tried to become a nurse, I had the opportunity to do one stint of the on-the-job training in a nursing home in Spain. While most of the residents were brits who had moved to the country to spend their retirement years, there were plenty of native spanish residents. One of them was an old lady who kept repeating the same litany over and over again, until I could also recite it by heart. I figured it was a prayer from the few words I could recognise, and in my free time I could look up what the words mean. It's still the only catholic prayer I know.

I'm quite sure this one won by landslide because I neglected to consider Tumblr's fae-like instinct to interpret everything differently than what you meant to say. By "fault" I do not mean that I blame myself or Deserve To Be Punished, naturally I did the best choices I could at the time with the information I had. But nonetheless every ambulance ride I've ever been on was somehow caused by my own actions. If we assume that we live in an universe where free will exists and our actions are not predetermined by fate, I could have avoided every single weewoo-ride of my life by making better choices.

This one simply legit happened. I was drunk home alone listening to mongolian folk metal, and it occurred to me that it would be fucking sick to know how to do that. I somehow managed to find a guy online who offered to teach me - not a fully fledged master himself yet, but we agreed that it would be mutually beneficial to have him teach me throat singing while he could practice giving lessons. We were supposed to do them through Discord, added each other, and forgot all about it. 2020 was a weird year.

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can you make a post about canada?

My first time was a canadian actually. A transfer student at my friend's school. He had come all the way over here because he was hugely into nordic metal and stuff. I don't remember his name. He was 17 and I had just turned 18 and it was a contract of convenience, he didn't want to go home a virgin and I figured that since I had no idea what it was going to be like, he was the safest option. Like if I shit myself and cry or something, at least it would be less embarrassing with someone I'd never have to see again.

In retrospect, this is probably wasn't a normal and healthy way to regard matters of physical intimacy.

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While there's no wrong way to name a cat, and Cat Name Themes are fun, it's also so funny when someone's cats' names have no consistent theme and are all over the place. Like

"Here are my five cats: Artemis, Beenie, HP Officejet 78 Printer, H.P. Lovecraft, and Cunt."

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hi there; so sorry to bother you, but you mentioned in that one post you were reading a book about medieval slavery? Do you happen to remember what it was called? Just curious.

Idän orjakauppa keskiajalla by Jukka Korpela. Unfortunately doesn't seem like it's been translated to english.

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The Fuck Around -permit is free, but you have to sign a consent form about finding out.

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I like to think of hunches, vibes, instinctive responses and other subconscious reactions of the emotional mind as the guiding voices of my ancestors. That's more or less what genetic memory is, if it really is a thing at all - the voice of some nameless, voiceless, long-forgotten ancestor saying "hold on, I know this situation. This is how I survived it. You must do this, and you will live."

Unfortunately I have anxiety so the ancestor in charge is that one tiny prehistoric mammal that survived the dinosaur extinction, and there is no convincing that thing that this time the sky is not falling, and "bolt underground and hide there until the rumbling stops" is not a solution to human problems.

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"I savour the rapturous caress of a sweater made of meat" kind of sounds like how one of those Worst Sex Scene Award winning authors would describe how being in the pussy feels like.

Apparently dating back to 2015, the almost 10 year old shitpost generator does show its age, but all the more it beautifully captures the tone and style of tumblr shitposts of the era. It's not dated, as much as it is a historical artefact.

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Apparently dating back to 2015, the almost 10 year old shitpost generator does show its age, but all the more it beautifully captures the tone and style of tumblr shitposts of the era. It's not dated, as much as it is a historical artefact.

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THEY ARE FOOTPRINTS YOU CRUDE PHILISTINES

Am i weird for thinking that your pfp is a little gremlin man leaving a trail of shit?

It's ok, everyone does ;___;

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Am i weird for thinking that your pfp is a little gremlin man leaving a trail of shit?

It's ok, everyone does ;___;