Yay! More Auroras!

Fuck, I love the sun. I hope it kills us all.

Oh my god I want one.

Thanks. I butchered a line from this poem: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44131/a-valediction-forbidding-mourning

The name/s Adolf/Adolphe are still in use in German and French former colonies in Africa, and WW2 wasn’t that big of a deal in a lot of the continent. A lot of them had other shit going on, still do.

The internet and easy-to-access translators are more common now, leading to a further decline in the name, but in Namibia in the 1960’s? Totally understandable someone would hear/see the name Adolf Hitler without context, assume a strong German name would help their kid get by in German-Occupied Namibia, and leave it at that. Looks like it worked.

https://search.worldcat.org/ to search library inventory and have books brought to your city/area.

https://lithub.com/category/fictionandpoetry/ for reviews on good, new reads.

The liver. Gets high as fuck without dying (much,) can Terminator 2 regenerate itself — like if you gave someone half your liver (in their body) you’d both end up with whole livers, and it’s the most delicious of the organs.

I, too, have lost myself in the changing currents of the scrotal expanse.

I had a one night stand where the guy warned me he had only one ball. My immediate (in my head) reaction was I would not have noticed.

They shift around on their own and sometimes one or both hide for some reason, and honestly I respect the hell out of such a chaotic organ, but they are purely unreliable. Just imagine going through life thinking testicles are stagnant and neat, two nuts in a skin sack, only to find out half the population has these roving jizz pebbles constantly on the move. Our word for ‘planet’ comes from the greek word for ‘wanderer,’ and so should testicles have been named. They wander the groin as the trepidation of the spheres rolls planets across our skies. Never still.

So I guess they’re okay. He didn’t want me to touch his ball anyway.

Looks like the majority of Jewish organizations consulted on this supported the Nakba exhibit, it was just the squeaky wheel who got the attention.

It’s a bold claim that a museum thought up by a famously Jewish head of a media empire to feature stuff about Jewish people and funded in part by the efforts of his Jewish sister is somehow not about Jewish people.

This is funnier if you know about the museum guides who had to censor their tours for groups who only wanted a tasting menu of human rights. To only learn about the people they think deserve rights and skip the rest, like those damned women and gays.

What argument? You mean the psychological definition of an addiction? That “argument?”

Task failed successfully.

That’s not addiction, otherwise I’m technically addicted to my painkillers, anti-psychotics and stimulants. As well as air, warmth and food.

An addiction is when someone compulsively seeks out a pleasurable experience despite net negative consequences.

Sending you stimulating vibes in a platonic way.

That look means I’ve scoped a nice place to keep my strap-on.

This generation’s Enumclaw incident.

First time: Discovery

Second time: Predictable, seek out new porn

Third time: Nostalgia

I love these because it give us a glimpse into oldschool metaphors that were so, so obvious at the time. Like of course you’re going to slap down some mussels on that hell talk because it’s an unclean abomination.

And of course you’re gonna give a pregnant women a pomegranate, and make sure jesus has a pelican. Why wouldn’t jesus be hanging with a pelican? If not, at least make sure he’s holding a fish and there’s a shepherd in there somewhere.

The illuminaries were memelord shitposters.

They can hold a pose for longer.

Link please.

That reminds me of a porn I saw thrice.