Um.. I think I’ll be spending the next few hours contemplating my habits surrounding my cycle, and thinking about which brands of tampons I can re-insert into the applicator after checking.
Maybe it’s time to switch back to OB, even though the damn things don’t soak up more than an hours worth in the first three days. I always did like that I could see them.
I tried “instead” years and years ago and it was a fucking disaster. It hurt to insert, it leaked, it was gross to remove, and they recommend you throw them away after you use them once so I felt like a skank rinsing it and reusing it and didn’t know how long I should use one before the same sanitation/mold issue might be a problem. Honestly, the month I used washclothes was way more enjoyable and organic feeling. But it look like things have gotten better over the years.
Being the kid who would periodically jerk off in public, and also being the “pretty” girl people project their insecurities onto, the truth of this comedy is the saddest part for me. I don’t hold out much hope that the masses are interested in the kind of drudging, terrifying inner work it takes to resist and/or repair the mass brainwash.
Actually, just narrow that down to not holding out much hope at all.
Came across this post from last summer while admining and wanted to repost – some food for thought on psychological distress, as well. Drowning doesn’t often look like drowning then, either.
The Instinctive Drowning Response – so named by Francesco A. Pia, Ph.D., is what people do to avoid actual or perceived suffocation in the water. And it does not look like most people expect. There is very little splashing, no waving, and no yelling or calls for help of any kind.
Now that would be awesome if it were actually possible to keep all of the irritating shit out of your life. But, it’s not. It never will be. As long as you have needs, you’ll have to deal with people you can’t stand from time to time. We’re losing that skill, the one that lets us deal with strangers and tolerate their shrill voices and clunky senses of humor and body odor and squeaky shoes.
In Being Wrong, Kathryn Shulz encourages readers to see error as a gift, “a rich and irreplaceable source of humor, art, illumination, individuality and change.”
Mr. President, I didn’t think you could do it. I thought you would stand for it. And that was enough for me. It would still be enough for me.
Really, what is so fucking hard about simply doing what you say you’re going to do when you say you’re going to do it? I know dozens of people who manage to do this in their lives. They don’t always accomplish what they set out to do but they at least VOTE for it. What the fuck is wrong with you.
LONDON—As the crisis in the Gulf of Mexico entered its eighth week Wednesday, fears continued to grow that the massive flow of bullshit still gushing from the headquarters of oil giant BP could prove catastrophic if nothing is done to contain it.
Having no technological advance in risk management in this industry over the last 30 years is absolute gross negligence and nothing less. I hope the people responsible for misappropriating such abundant resource fry for it. When will we get our priorities straight? When people like this start frying for not doing so, that’s when.
So whose fault is it? Hint: It has something to do with the Collective Asshole. I say just stuff the pipe with the bodies of these fucking bastards and be done with it.
