(Do Not Steal Or Repost My Work)

i feel like everyone’s forgotten some Covid basics so please let me remind you:

Your mask protects others more than it protects you

You can still spread covid even if you’re vaccinated or not showing any symptoms

The more this spreads around, the more mutated variants of the virus will appear and they WILL be stronger than the original

so like maybe stop being a little bitch and endangering others because you really, really needed to go out to dinner or get fucked up at a bar instead of in your home like a respectable person

Just realized that both coming out day and indigenous peoples day are on the 11th this year so here's your reminder from your local queer native to not let Indigenous Peoples Day get ignored and forgotten this year. Support natives even if they're not queer this october 11th, and don't let white + colonized narratives be the main focus of the day.

An incel gamer who calls himself a nice guy, decapitated a 17 year old girl “who wouldn’t give him a chance” after she went on a date with another guy.

In order: Fen (19), Mors (20) and Aeron (18). They're dating each other and are also in an international gang.

Fen is the explosion expert, Mors specializes in poisons and Aeron is a computer genius.

I'm losing it over this AITA thread

Here's the kitty

Get rid of the whole wife

i feel like we don’t talk about things like this enough

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

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whiteboard or whateva