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This is just a new iteration on guys who buy a drink for a woman (without asking her) and think that means they are entitled to a conversation. Boys and young men are taught that material gifts and services are a way to get attention from women. It’s a way, yes, but a gift not freely given isn’t really a real gift is it?
“But, wait!” You say “these guys are selling weed! That’s not giving a gift.” In the abstract that’s true. But, there is a reason these women choose these dealers. Maybe they are underage (hope not) maybe it’s a part of the country where weed is just hard to find and selling it is always a little dangerous. Maybe it was just a bit of a discount.
“I’m too in love with you to keep selling you weed” is just another way of saying “if you want the drug you enjoy, you could sleep with me, be my girl etc.”
If the women saw the relationship as “business” – if they thought they were paying full price, but then this gets pulled on them it’s pretty shitty.
There is a long tradition of people using drugs to get access to partners they would not otherwise have even a reason to talk to. It’s much more sinister when it’s something physically addictive like opioids– but it’s still bad with weed.
I can’t prove, but suspect these guys are a bit older, the girls a bit younger. How is this that much different from a 28 year-old who buys 18 year-olds beer? “But I don’t know if I can keep bringing the beer over anymore since I thought we had something… baaaaybeee”
There is a chance it’s not that slimy. We can’t know with so little context. I hope it’s not that slimy.
But can we agree that if the dynamic is anything along what I’ve described it’s manipulation?
[Image Description: A gauche painting in pastel colors, loose brush strokes. A deep sea giant isopod, gray-blue and about the size of a cat, lies on a pink and flower print bedspread quietly reading a book, pillow covers with white ruffles and a teddy bear are nearby. ]
Georgia Samsa didn’t feel like getting out of bed. She felt like reading. It was a lovely spring day and she was a giant deep sea isopod! Her brother, Gergor, had been such a drama queen about turning into a beetle. Georgia didn’t see what the big deal was. After moistening her gills in the shower, she relaxed with one of her favorite books.
There is an ant right there!!
When looking at photos of bugs that aren't ants it's always funny to spot the ants in the background. Even more funny when the person who took the photo, very proud of the rare bug they found refuses to acknowledge that there is clearly an ant photobombing the special moment. This one is called:
"Tiny Purple Beetle, Chlamisus sp."
... aaaand Crematogaster too! They look like friends!
(Photo by Andreas Kay )
If you like this beetle check out this recent post from @apsciencebydan -- it's what got me researching the species.
spent the morning pausing gardening to let the cicadakillers (Sphecius speciosus) rest on my hand. very polite boys
[Image Description: A series of photos and text on themes of horror, houses, and haunting.
1. A tall narrow wooden, but very realistic white dollhouse sits on an open field of brown grass. The little building is tall and severe with peaked roof and gothic windows.
“Things haunt.
Things exist long after they are killed”
2. A hand lifts the corner of an elegant old carpet on a wood floor, the area under the carpet is completely covered with soil.
“…you will go home and then you will find that home is not home anymore. Then you will really be in trouble. As long as you stay here, you can always think: One day I will go home.”
3. An abandoned crumbling wooden house. The paint has long ago flaked away and vines creep over the roof and the windows of the victorian tower (complete with witches cap)
“One stands by and tries
to make sense of it
Try measure love
Measure the silence of a house
The unheard footsteps at the
doorway”
4. “Around us, below us, this huge house seemed a monster, holding us in its sharp-toothed mouth. If we moved, whispered, breathed heavily, we’d be swallowed and digested.”
A photo looking down a steep flight of stairs in an old wood-paneled mansion.
5. A flow chart titled: “Is the House Haunted?”
Image of a house points to
“Well, see” points to
“the thing is” points to
“if we tell you” points to
“then you might not go in.
6. A bee rests on a window pane of wooden door with many glass panes. Behind the glass, partway in the shadows a figure in a skirt stands facing us. We can only see them from their knees to chest. Their right hand is in the sunlight, very pale, a little claw-like.
"Here’s my question. If the ghost wants nothing more than to be witnessed, why would it appear behind you, not in front of you? The only answer I can think of is this: (next bit underlined) it appears behind you because it already knows, to an absolute certainty, that you will have no choice but to look back.”
7. Black and white shadowy photo of a nude woman with pale skin and dark hair, face obscured by the door. She is stepping from an old hand-carved wooden wardrobe. We see the curve of her hip, her leg, her hand holding the door, her barefoot as it touched the floor.
(next bit all caps) “At Home, With Ghosts”
8. A young person in bed, head visible above the covers, the room is dark, but a bit of light falls over her face highlighting one dark eye which is wide open with terror.
“And now like the wayward spider who witlessly settles upon a sleeper’s tongue, you will be swallowed. Because the truth is this: when a house is both hungry and awake, every room becomes a mouth.”
9. A circular, faded white lace doily, woven into the lace are the words: “Home is where the horror is.”
“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydid are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, hold darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met nearly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.”
/end description! wow!]
[Image Description: A comic.
1. On the sea floor a knobby, rectangular slug-like creature with cute feelers shaped like bunny ears (the dorid) faces a cluster of barnacles. One barnacle says: “Oh No! A barnacle-eating dorid!”
2. The dorid has moved a little closer to the barnacles. A different barnacle exclaims “Run for your lives!”
3. The dorid is closer still, almost there. The barnacles say nothing. They have not moved (since they are barnacles.) ]
Photograph Showing Inventor Charles S.l Baker And His Assistant Demonstrating Heating Radiator System. 1906
[Image Description: A black and white photo of two distinguished looking Black men standing behind a contraption consisting of a radiator, some kind of tank and complex pipes. The man on the right hold a gadget in his hand with arm extended. The man on the left rests one hand on the table with his invention and seems calm and proud. ]
What if we just… accepted that everyone has to live somewhere?
I know this is radical, but, I think it is also painfully obvious.





























