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I like the Cyndi Lauper version of this a lot, her voice in the chorus has incredible heart and her cadence is really interesting. Her version's a slow buildup of passion, the sense of obsession is a background hum, it's more internal. Roy's is like an avowal with that beat, it's intoxicated, it has this breathless momentum that to me utilizes the lyrics better. In her version, "is that alright?" is not as important. In Roy's, it's an essential line; it keeps this obsession anchored in love, where it could sound creepy. The guy drove all night and it's you he worries about. I think he repeats the line because he's aware of that aspect.

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it is time for one of my rare postings of music. today is one of the all-time love songs for me, the chorus goes straight thru me

#u will learn here that i have a soft spot for a certain kind of guitar

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Spotted in the subway smashing a dirty floor pizza with my rock

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#Franken Fran

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Really funny and strange moment when a guy in a discord was talking about punching cinderblocks as a kid with rage issues, and someone said it's funny people are so different, there's no way [path-forbidden]'s ever done anything like that. Reminded me of my old doctor assuring me she knew I'd never be violent while I was thinking about forearm choking her. Is it just the white woman experience, or does my voice radiate nonviolence

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Like I really do want to leave room for complex identities, a lot of us have shifting and zigzagging relationships to gender when social context and embodiment change. But a little sensitivity toward us would really go a long way here.

I'll be honest man, the undercurrent of trans guys etc wanting to be us and wield our perceived authority and perceived positive visibility is a little too much right now. See: the recent push to invent a trans man counterpart to transmisogyny to turn the whole idea into a he said/she said. If you wanna say something like "transmasc woman", I get you, but if you're gonna go around straight calling yourself a "trans woman", that is going to raise my hackles.

I have seen way too much extreme bad faith in that area. That phrase is currently most of what we have to describe a particular relationship to systems of power. "Transfem" being most the rest, and god knows I've seen that one used too. Really think in the modern day you can find some new language for this one.

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I'll be honest man, the undercurrent of trans guys etc wanting to be us and wield our perceived authority and perceived positive visibility is a little too much right now. See: the recent push to invent a trans man counterpart to transmisogyny to turn the whole idea into a he said/she said. If you wanna say something like "transmasc woman", I get you, but if you're gonna go around straight calling yourself a "trans woman", that is going to raise my hackles.

I have seen way too much extreme bad faith in that area. That phrase is currently most of what we have to describe a particular relationship to systems of power. "Transfem" being most the rest, and god knows I've seen that one used too. Really think in the modern day you can find some new language for this one.

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When it finally goes, I start bleeding. I take a rest between complex patterns of roaring flame lashing the screen from crematorium vents, bleeding and bleeding, and watch my temperature creep up from proximity.

There are long moments of tension. The time limit to cross the crematorium is not forgiving. But I don't want to move forward while being continuously hurt. After a while, the flesh-gun leaves no solid remains, and it's buried in a bandage. For some reason it sticks with me. It was an enigma the whole time I had it, and I only guessed that it was intended to be used by psychics.

QUDPOST

While in a weak monster's mouth several automated corpse-strippers descend on me. The realization I haven't laid waste to everything around me naturally leads to a second one: my greatsword is gone. They got it two turns ago.

Weaving in-mouth around snatching appendages and spitting out someone else's digestive enzymes, I decide to use my fists. I'm ripping my way out when the corpse-strippers score my cloak. It occurs to me that if they get my armour, I'm going to have to pull my side-sword. If I pull it and they take it, I'm going to die down here. That will be 20 hours progress flushed.

This forces me to use a rare resource, teleporting about thirty feet off. The monster that had me stumbles in confusion and a railgun round pulverizes it. Irritated, I light up the corpse-strippers as they rush me, sift through the debris and find I blasted my greatsword to pieces. That or the one that had it fell down a hole. I'm not getting that back.

#Caves Of Qud

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Haven’t done a photostudy in a while!  3hrs, PS CC, Kyle T. Webster brushes Speedpaint: (x)

#not described

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This is a lot of my raw selvedge denim thing, it's one of the last bastions of durable, quality clothing with some types offering free lifetime repairs. For footwear, I've heard good things about Darn Tough boots, Kursk cycling trainers, etc. a rare few sneakers can also be re-soled.

#not captioned

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Bottom Surgeons Willing to Work With Fat Patients:

- Dr Ellie Ley @ Gender Confirmation Center, San Francisco, CA USA

>> vaginoplasty & phalloplasty

- Dr Gladys Yng @ UCLA Hospital, LA, CA USA

>> vaginoplasty (unsure about phalloplasty)

#bottom surgery #surgery

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My main criticism of Qud is that despite fantastic prose and imagination, it wears its heart on its sleeve.

For instance, there's an order of fascist knights resisting the sticky impurity of the world. They attack you on sight as a mutant, mentally enslave others as "newchildren", etc. All this is cool, but I think the writing becomes weaker when labouring over their crooked spines and excessive jaws from being inbred for purity.

It's not enough that life is the gordian knot they love to cut, they also have to be ugly so no one can miss they're bad guys. I'd let this pass (or view it in another light) but the most anarchistic and disability-friendly factions are unfailingly nice to you.

When the game reaches for the very strange, it excels, but it's unsubtle when it reflects on the modern day. I have more respect for New Vegas's approach of presenting 3 past-bound failures as your only options, demanding you say "no, none of these" and walk your own path. If Caves Of Qud had an Ulysses, he wouldn't be from the Legion and he'd begin as your friend.

[In fairness to the devs, a lot of people do think the Putus Templar are cool. I understand why being subtle is offputting when you have close contact with fans and can see them misunderstand you.]

#Caves Of Qud

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Not long after, I'm navigating an industrial hell with a crystal side-sword in my hand. In the other, an ordinary spray-bottle. A couple hours back, I found an unknown something in the ranged weapons tab of my inventory.

It has since refused to be un-equipped. In fact, there seems to be a freckled handcannon growing out of my wrist now, veins thudding. I'm still taking a knee and spraying acid on it every couple of minutes, inbetween dodging pistons and machine fanatics. It stopped shooting a while ago, so I think it's dying.

QUDPOST

While in a weak monster's mouth several automated corpse-strippers descend on me. The realization I haven't laid waste to everything around me naturally leads to a second one: my greatsword is gone. They got it two turns ago.

Weaving in-mouth around snatching appendages and spitting out someone else's digestive enzymes, I decide to use my fists. I'm ripping my way out when the corpse-strippers score my cloak. It occurs to me that if they get my armour, I'm going to have to pull my side-sword. If I pull it and they take it, I'm going to die down here. That will be 20 hours progress flushed.

This forces me to use a rare resource, teleporting about thirty feet off. The monster that had me stumbles in confusion and a railgun round pulverizes it. Irritated, I light up the corpse-strippers as they rush me, sift through the debris and find I blasted my greatsword to pieces. That or the one that had it fell down a hole. I'm not getting that back.

#Caves Of Qud

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QUDPOST

While in a weak monster's mouth several automated corpse-strippers descend on me. The realization I haven't laid waste to everything around me naturally leads to a second one: my greatsword is gone. They got it two turns ago.

Weaving in-mouth around snatching appendages and spitting out someone else's digestive enzymes, I decide to use my fists. I'm ripping my way out when the corpse-strippers score my cloak. It occurs to me that if they get my armour, I'm going to have to pull my side-sword. If I pull it and they take it, I'm going to die down here. That will be 20 hours progress flushed.

This forces me to use a rare resource, teleporting about thirty feet off. The monster that had me stumbles in confusion and a railgun round pulverizes it. Irritated, I light up the corpse-strippers as they rush me, sift through the debris and find I blasted my greatsword to pieces. That or the one that had it fell down a hole. I'm not getting that back.

#Caves Of Qud #all tips will b ignored I want a difficult time!

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Death to settler colonialism, free Palestine!

#not captioned #israel #palestine #genocide #this was one of my early indicators of exactly what the sides were

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Saul Bellow, Humboldt's Gift

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when people say "ok but x bug has no benefit to nature" I bet they can't even name 5 facts about the bug they're shitting on. so how could they Possibly know what its function is in the environment and if it's "useless" or not

wasps being the perfect example, I still get people saying "oh bees are cute and pollinate :) yay. but WASPS ARE EVIL and they don't contribute ANYTHING!!!" and it's like buddy. wasps pollinate too. they also control spider populations. they do a lot of great valuable things. but even if they didn't, they're still worthy of being here. I see SO much hatred toward wasps and I wish people would try to learn a little more about them.

I'm mainly talking about paper wasps here because these are common ones we run into in daily life and most commonly deemed "aggressive". but wasps have body language. and if you learn to read this language and learn how to properly act around them, things will go a lot better for you! wasps can be curious creatures and they may come up to observe you, especially if you're wearing something brightly colored. this can be startling for sure, but my best advice is to just be still, DO NOT SWAT or wave your arms. try to just back away or sidestep so it loses interest and leaves. swatting is just gonna make them feel as if they are being attacked and increase your chances of being stung.

many stings happen due to unfortunate but accidental circumstances. unknowingly getting too close to a nest, stepping on a wasp on accident, one getting stuck in clothing, etc. I got stung once while gardening, went to pull a weed and the wasp was on it, so I grabbed her without knowing and she stung me because she was scared. this doesn't mean "oh wasps are AGGRESSIVE and EVIL" it means you stumbled into an unfortunate situation where the wasps felt threatened and defensive. instead of being like "FUCK all wasps" go forward trying to learn about common nesting areas, be wary of holes in the ground, wear gloves while gardening, and if you do have to be around a nest, try not to make a lot of noise. if the nest absolutely needs removed, call a professional.

#wasps #i will always defend wasps!