Okay so I probably should’ve added a note for this.
The actual term for smut is 黃文 (huang2wen2). The character 凰 (huang2) is a homophone that’s substituted in to somewhat censor, similar to how people on TikTok say corn instead of porn.
Other ways to refer to smut include 肉 (lit. meat) and 車 (lit. vehicle) as well as various transportation-related terms that stem from 車.
people are like “awww I can’t get pregnant so you shouldn’t get an abortion” and “awww my whole family is dead so you shouldn’t be no contact with your evil toxic family” get a grip. get several grips. pull yourself together.
I’m disabled so I think every able-bodied person should be running obstacle courses and donating 40% of their blood every day
To anyone wondering if it’s worth it to tear down fascist posters or whatever. I spent a few months last year engaged in silent battle with another student at my school who was putting anti trans stickers up everywhere. I had it down to a system where every night I would walk the five block radius they went up in, and tear down all the ones I could reach, and use a stick to put duct tape over the others. Like, within hours of the stickers going up, I would have already purged the whole zone. I knew the basic schedule of whoever put them up based on when and where the stickers appeared. I probably could have found them in person if I’d wanted to. And I told all my classmates and friends what the stickers looked like and got them to rip them down too. And after a few months of this, the stickers slowed, and then stopped forever.
My point is, a lot of this fashy or right wing stuff is one local weirdo. And if you pay attention, and do a little light organizing with your friends, you can basically make their efforts into a giant sisyphisean exercise in misery. You control your streets!
Remember: It costs money to keep printing those stickers, but ripping them down is free.
reading the wiki for the american psycho movie every single thing it’s saying about christian bale has me in tears …….. he literally wanted the role so bad he got that buff in two weeks, rejected every other offer for 9 months while the producers tried to get dicaprio to be patrick bateman bc bale knew dicaprio would chicken out, went to dinner with the director and the guy who wrote the novel IN CHARACTER apparently scaring the shit out of the novelist, took the role for $50k, and then made all his costars think he was a giant freak bc he never fucking broke character, and APARENTLY LITERALLY HAS CONTROL OVER HIS SWEAT GLANDS AND USED THIS IN THE BUSINESS CARD SCENE
ok thanks for the info wiki
Hey Paul!
It brings me comfort that, for a brief moment, Jared Leto genuinely believed Christian Bale was going to kill him with an axe
Walking into a room full of friends and going “Hey guys I was thinking about succumbing to nostalgia and building my politics around a mythologized idyllic past filled with heroic martyrs who die for their Wifes” and they all tackle me to the ground like I just brought a lit cigarette to an oil rig
Walking back into the room with a cast and going “Hey guys, sorry, I dunno what came over me. I dunno how I keep forgetting that the people of the past were unwashed beasts with nothing of import to offer us” and getting tackled by a somewhat separate group (there’s overlap)
Sometimes I see some variety of North American Little Guy (opossum, raccoon, etc. ) and I’m like “okay”
BUT THEN I start thinking about how excited somebody from not-North-America would be to see this Guy. Like, would an Australian be excited to see the only marsupial not from their country? Are there raccoons in zoos on the other side of the world that are regarded as unique and exotic creatures? Idk but it’s made me more excited to see Guys in my area.
it’s me, i’m the person described in the tumbl
I went to a zoo in England this past summer, and there were crowds around the skunks, raccoons, and coyotes.
So, as an Australian, going to the zoo in China with a USAmerican and a Jamacian was an experience.
The first thing you should know about this experiences is I’m a fairly bush-raised child. Not entirely, but the vast majority of my school holidays were spent camping or on a property or otherwise out in the bush. (Not the Outback, although sometimes, but definitely the Bush. The great south-west forests, to be specific.)
I have seen more than my fair share of actually wild Australian wildlife. I am severely immune to snakes, spiders, frogs, kangaroos and wild foxes, rabbits and pigs (those shouldn’t be in Australia, but they are. Also, if you ever see evidence of pigs in the bush, you leave immediately.)
So here we encounter jarring moment of dissonance the first.
We were walking past the kangaroo paddock and I’ll admit I didn’t even give it a second glance - it was a case of “Oh, kangaroos, how normal,” And moving on. Didn’t even register that they would be something to get excited about. It was literally like seeing a bird or the neighbour’s cat.
Anyway, after awhile I noticed that I was no longer with my fellows because they were amazed by the kangaroos. They were staring, they were laughing, they were paying money to feed the fucking kangaroos like they were some sort of weird, special, exotic animal.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, guys, they’re just kangaroos!”
And then I realised I was with non-Australians and felt properly shamed.
We spent some (far too long of a) time with the kangaroos and moved on.
Anyway, as we were leaving we were walking through the American animals section and I’ve stopped dead in my tracks and squealed with excitement and raced over to an enclosure to coo and generally be a weird, animal-obsessed little moron. I’d never seen this animal in real life before but it was adorable and lovely and the cutest thing ever. And my Americas friends were looking at me like I’d grown another head because the animal that I was enamoured with and had never seen in person before, the animal that I was most excited about out of any that was there (including the baby tiger that I actually got to hold, guys)
The animal was a raccoon.
Your trash creature is someone else’s treasured encounter
When my father visited a Zoo in Germany, he was amazed to find people eagerly watching what appeared to be a large patch of dirt with holes in it. It took him a minute to realize that the exhibit was for prairie dogs and everyone was waiting to hopefully see one pop it’s head out. Dad, who went to school in Eastern Oregon and regularly harassed the local prairie dog population there, had long known how to call them. So to amuse himself, he gave the high whistle he used to use at school and, sure enough, about 15 little heads popped up to see what was happening. What was happening was the local German patrons all losing their god damn minds
