In Regards Of The Trump Government Scraping All Trans Inclusion In Its Queer Information Portion Of Its

i had the idea for this last tdov but it didnt come together until now 🥖🍷 though i'm not religious, this quote is beloved to me

STOP. DON'T SCROLL. READ THIS TO SAVE LIVES IN GAZA. Below are some VETTED campaigns to support Gazans. These people have been experiencing an active genocide for almost a full year. Donate and share widely.

(may 27th)

Save a displaced Gazan Family (@ranibra) - Rania is married with five children, her husband needs medical care. She is now responsible to save her children. Help them evacuate.

Support Fahmi and his family (@fahmiakkila) - Fahmi's life has been turned completely upside down, and he now finds himself responsible to save his parents, sisters, & brothers - 7 members.

Save the Maliha family (@dinamaliha) - Dina wants to save her mother, two sisters, and three brothers. The family lost contact with their father when the genocide started. They desperately need to get to Egypt.

Save Firas' family (@firassalemnewacccount @prosolitudeeee) - Firas is a father of two children, a 10-month-old boy and a two-year-old girl, who are in need of safe haven in Egypt.

Help Husam and his family (@husamthaher) - Husam desperately needs to save himself, his wife, and 3 young children.

Help Nader's family to evacuate from Gaza (@nadershoshaa) - Nader and his family, consisting of six members, are currently displaced in the south; help them evacuate and survive.

The Shamaly family wants to survive (@daee571989) - Help save 15 kids and their family, who are living a horrifying active genocide.

Ahmd needs urgent evacuation (@ahmd-iyd) - Ahmd has lost his livelihood to this genocide, and needs funds to help his family evacuate and rebuild their life.

Help evacuate Hani's family (@skatehani) - A dear friend, and a Palestinian skater trying to evacuate 10 members of his family; he has lost his father to injustice.

Help Iman’s family find safety (@imaneyad) - Iman has a family of 7 who need to find safety.

Help save Youssef's family (@bba3lo @mahmoud7878) - Ahmed Baalousha wants to save his wife, his two sons, his daughter, as well as his parents and siblings.

Support Ruba and Amal's family's urgent evacuation (@rubashaban @amalshabn) - Ruba and Amal's family are lacking the basic necessities of life; they have an elderly father who desperately needs to be evacuated for medical care.

Save little Yusuf and his family (@ahmednabubake) - Yusuf is in an intensive care unit fighting for his life in Gaza; he needs urgent evacuation alongside his family.

Help Omar evacuate (@omarsobhi) - Omar is a 20 year old Palestinian student who wants to save himself and his family from this genocide.

Help Belal and his family to evacuate from Gaza (@alaajshaat) - Belal has lost too much to this war and needs to support himself and his family.

Do not scroll past this list without contributing. This list makes it easy for you to find a fundraiser to support. Choose at least one. Your contribution will save lives. If you cannot donate, share these campaigns.

FIND MORE CAMPAIGNS HERE

Please read this man’s description of his dachshund and its most annoying habit

“I have a ridiculous dog named Walnut. He is as domesticated as a beast can be: a purebred longhaired miniature dachshund with fur so thick it feels rich and creamy, like pudding. His tail is a huge spreading golden fan, a clutch of sunbeams. He looks less like a dog than like a tropical fish. People see him and gasp. Sometimes I tell Walnut right out loud that he is my precious little teddy bear pudding cup sweet boy snuggle-stinker.

In my daily life, Walnut is omnipresent. He shadows me all over the house. When I sit, he gallops up into my lap. When I go to bed, he stretches out his long warm body against my body or he tucks himself under my chin like a soft violin. Walnut is so relentlessly present that sometimes, paradoxically, he disappears. If I am stressed or tired, I can go a whole day without noticing him. I will pet him idly; I will yell at him absent-mindedly for barking at the mailman; I will nuzzle him with my foot. But I will not really see him. He will ask for my attention, but I will have no attention to give. Humans are notorious for this: for our ability to become blind to our surroundings — even a fluffy little jewel of a mammal like Walnut.

…

When I come home from a trip, Walnut gets very excited. He prances and hops and barks and sniffs me at the door. And the consciousnesses of all the wild creatures I’ve seen — the puffins, rhinos, manatees, ferrets, the weird hairy wet horses — come to life for me inside of my domestic dog. He is, suddenly, one of these unfamiliar animals. I can pet him with my full attention, with a full union of our two attentions. He is new to me and I am new to him. We are new again together.

Even when he is horrible. The most annoying thing Walnut does, even worse than barking at the mailman, is the ritual of his “evening drink.” Every night, when I am settled in bed, when I am on the brink of sleep, Walnut will suddenly get very thirsty. If I go to bed at 10:30, Walnut will get thirsty at 11. If I go to bed at midnight, he’ll wake me up at 1. I’ve found that the only way I cannot be mad about this is to treat this ritual as its own special kind of voyage — to try to experience it as if for the first time. If I am open to it, my upstairs hallway contains an astonishing amount of life.

The evening drink goes something like this: First, Walnut will stand on the edge of the bed, in a muscular, stout little stance, and he will wave his big ridiculous fan tail in my face, creating enough of a breeze that I can’t ignore it. I will roll over and try to go back to sleep, but he won’t let me: He’ll stamp his hairy front paws and wag harder, then add expressive noises from his snout — half-whine, half-breath, hardly audible except to me. And so I give up. I sit up and pivot and plant my feet on the floor — I am hardly even awake yet — and I make a little basket of my arms, like a running back preparing to take a handoff, and Walnut pops his body right into that pocket, entrusting the long length of his vulnerable spine (a hazard of the dachshund breed) to the stretch of my right arm, and then he hangs his furry front legs over my left. From this point on we function as a unit, a fusion of man and dog. As I lift my weight from the bed Walnut does a little hop, just to help me with gravity, and we set off down the narrow hall. We are Odysseus on the wine-dark sea. (Walnut is Odysseus; I am the ship.)

All of evolution, all of the births and deaths since caveman times, since wolf times, that produced my ancestors and his — all the firelight and sneak attacks and tenderly offered scraps of meat, the cages and houses, the secret stretchy coils of German DNA — it has all come, finally, to this: a fully grown exhausted human man, a tiny panting goofy harmless dog, walking down the hall together. Even in the dark, Walnut will tilt his snout up at me, throw me a deep happy look from his big black eyes — I can feel this happening even when I can’t see it — and he will snuffle the air until I say nice words to him (OK you fuzzy stinker, let’s go get your evening drink), and then, always, I will lower my face and he will lick my nose, and his breath is so bad, his fetid snout-wind, it smells like a scoop of the primordial soup. It is not good in any way. And yet I love it.

Walnut and I move down the hall together, step by bipedal step, one two three four, tired man and thirsty friend, and together we pass the wildlife of the hallway — a moth, a spider on the ceiling, both of which my children will yell at me later to move outside, and of course each of these creatures could be its own voyage, its own portal to millions of years of history, but we can’t stop to study them now; we are passing my son’s room. We can hear him murmuring words to his friends in a voice that sounds disturbingly like my own voice, deep sound waves rumbling over deep mammalian cords — and now we are passing my daughter’s room, my sweet nearly grown-up girl, who was so tiny when we brought Walnut home, as a golden puppy, but now she is moving off to college. In her room she has a hamster she calls Acorn, another consciousness, another portal to millions of years, to ancient ancestors in China, nighttime scampering over deserts.

But we move on. Behind us, in the hallway, comes a sudden galumphing. It is yet another animal: our other dog, Pistachio, he is getting up to see what’s happening; he was sleeping, too, but now he is following us. Pistachio is the opposite of Walnut, a huge mutt we adopted from a shelter, a gangly scraggly garbage muppet, his body welded together out of old mops and sandpaper, with legs like stilts and an enormous block head and a tail so long that when he whips it in joy, constantly, he beats himself in the face. Pistachio unfolds himself from his sleepy curl, stands, trots, huffs and stares after us with big human eyes. Walnut ignores him, because with every step he is sniffing the dark air ahead of us, like a car probing a night road with headlights, and he knows we are approaching his water dish now, he knows I am about to bend my body in half to set his four paws simultaneously down on the floor, he knows that he will slap the cool water with his tongue for 15 seconds before I pick him up again and we journey back down the hall. And I find myself wondering, although of course it doesn’t matter, if Walnut was even thirsty, or if we are just playing out a mutual script. Or maybe, and who could blame him, he just felt like taking a trip.”

nytimes.com

Lessons From a Lifetime of Animal Voyages

There is an animal-size hole at the center of modern life. Some of us will search the world to fill it.

Imagine calling Palestinians documenting their own genocide on their iPhones powered by a MacGyvered car battery "misinformation" because it hasn't been backed up and approved of by 40 peer-reviewed data analysts from the West that you personally approve of. I can't imagine being that ghoulish and heartless

Petitions - UK Government and Parliament

Petition: Legally enshrine the right of adults to physically transition using NHS services

Introduce a law to legally protect the right of those aged 18 and over to transition using NHS services. This should specifically cover phys

Uk peeps!! Let’s get this going! 🏳️‍⚧️🇬🇧

back to autumn 🍂🕯 i miss cold weather 🌧✨ and wearing fluffy socks 🧦

Flickr: lakehouse , cottonblue

scrumptious !!

Illustrations by Sophie Margolin for Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre.

This is Sam Nordquist. He was a transgender man who was lured to my hometown back in September by his Internet girlfriend. She and four other individuals then proceeded to torture and kill him, leaving his body in a field. I'm absolutely gutted. The misunderstanding for the trans community that leads to this sort of hatred is something that I just will never understand. I'm so sorry, Sam. You deserved so much more than this.

If you are able, please donate and share the GoFundMe set up by his sister. She and Sam's mom have made it to New York, but now they will have to go through the horrible process of arranging his funeral and transporting his body back home.

https://gofund.me/b11a9148