I suck, and I can’t paint worth shit. What am I doing with my life? :(
Lets do an experiment: reblog if you would feel safer hanging out with trans women (regardless of what genitals they currently posses) than Cis women who are transphobic and deny trans women’s obvious womanhood.
Right guys, here you go, just a quick giveaway that I’ll end when I get back from Punk Rock Holiday on the 8th/9th of August. Consisting of:
- 4 ringed/chained bondage belt
- All New X-Factor issue 2
- Daken Dark Wolverine issue 22
- Savage Wolverine issue 7
- Savage Wolverine issue 10
- 2 copies of Maximum Rock and Roll zine
- 2 copies of Brew For Breakfast Zine
- A copy of TNS Records 10 year anniversary zine
- Shit load of stickers and some badges
- Mainstream Music Is Shit (37 tracks of UK Punk and Ska) compilation CD
- Antipop Compilation CD 2013 (A lot of North West UK Punk/Ska)
It’s only a little’un but I want to give back to my followers a bit for putting up with all my ranting and shitty blog, so usual rules:
Must be following me.
Only reblogs count.
I’ll pick someone at random the day after I get back from Punk Rock Holiday
And I’ll throw in some little bits I pick up there that will be a suprise.
Two weeks left
This was meant to be a quick warm up, but it turned into a comic that I’ve wanted to draw for a while. This is something that is extremely important to me, and I appreciate it if you read it.
A while ago, I heard a story that broke my heart. A family went a cat shelter to adopt. The daughter fell in love with a 3-legged cat. The father straight up said “absolutely not”. Because he was missing a leg. That cat was that close to having a family that loved him, but the missing leg held him back. Why?!
Many people have the initial instinct of “nope” when they see an imperfect animal. I get it, but less-adoptable does NOT mean less loveable. 9 out of 10 people will choose a kitten over an adult cat. And those 10% that would get an adult cat often overlook “different” animals.
All I want people to do is be open to the idea of having a “different” pet in their lives. Choose the pet that you fall in love with, but at least give all of them a fair shot at winning your heart.
Don’t dismiss them, they deserve a loving home just as much as any other cat. They still purr, they still love a warm lap, they still play, they still love you. Trust me, next time you are in the market for a new kitty, just go over to that one cat that’s missing an eye and see what he’s all about!
Let me tell to you a thing.
This is Lenore. I first saw her in a little cage at the Petco I frequent (I used to take my parents’ dog in for puppy play time), and she looked like the grouchiest, old, crotchety cat in the world, and I fell instantly in love. She was cranky, she was anti-social, hanging out at the back of her cage. Her fur was matted because she wouldn’t let the groomers near her.
She was perfect.
But I didn’t have a place for her. I wasn’t living in my own space yet, and where I was, I wasn’t allowed cats. So I pressed my face to the bars of her cage and I promised that if no one had adopted her by the time I’d bought a house, I would come back for her.
I visited her every week for over six months while I looked for a house. At one point, they had to just shave her entire rear-end because the mats or fur were so bad. They told me she clawed the heck outta the groomer that did it, screamed the entire time, and spent the next two days growling at anyone that came near the cage.
A couple of weeks later, I closed on my house. I went back and I got an employee, and I said: “That one. I need that cat.”
They got the paperwork and the lady who ran the rescue that was bringing the cats in told me that Lenore (at the time, Lila) was 8 years old, had been owned by an elderly lady who had died, and brought in to a different rescue, who’d had her for six months on top of the time I’d been seeing her at Petco.
This kitty had been living in a 3x3’ cube for over a YEAR because she was older and “less adoptable.”
I signed the paperwork, put her in a cat carrier, and drove her to my new home. I had pretty much nothing; a bed, an old couch, a couple of bookcases, and a tank of mice I called “Cat TV”. I let her out of the carrier and onto my bed, and I told her “I told you I would come back for you when I had a place. It’s not much, but it’s yours too now.”
Lenore spent the next three days straight purring non-stop. She followed me around the house purring. Sat next to me purring. Slept next to me purring. Leaning into every touch, purring, purring, always purring. She still purrs if you so much as think about petting her. She’s amazing, and I love her.
So, you know, if you’re thinking about adopting, and you see a beast that others consider “less adoptable,” think about Lenore.
THIS POST MAKES ME SO SAD, I JUST WANT TO HUG ALL THE KITTIES ;-;
I don’t usually reblog stuff like this but wow
People who drink milk gross me tf out
*headbutts this post and it shatters into a million pieces cuz it got weak ass bones*
*you dont need milk for strong bones*
*milk actually can cause osteoporosis* *read a book*
I could not find any valid evidence of milk causing osteoporosis, however, I did find that people who drink more than 3 cups of milk per day had an increase of prostate and ovarian cancer.
From their announcement:
For various reasons, Bass Coast Festival is banning feathered war bonnets, or anything resembling them, onsite. Our security team will be enforcing this policy.
We understand why people are attracted to war bonnets. They have a magnificent aesthetic. But their spiritual, cultural and aesthetic significance cannot be separated.
Bass Coast Festival takes place on indigenous land and we respect the dignity of aboriginal people. We have consulted with aboriginal people in British Columbia on this issue and we feel our policy aligns with their views and wishes regarding the subject. Their opinion is what matters to us.