hubblegleeflower:

quartztiger:

gillianandersunshine:

kitterly:

hazelbeewitched:

vaspider:

lesbiansandthelivingdead:

decalexas:

titaniavs:

zahraaxix:

DUDE my teacher canceled class the other day and so the next day we were all like oh no is everything ok?? and shes like “oh yeah its fine its just my wife wasn’t feeling good so i took her home, made her some soup, yknow fun stuff” and i swear everyone in class froze for a sec cuz we never knew she was a lesbian but then we spent a good 30 min of class time discussing whether her wife actually ate the soup cuz we all know she sucks at cooking

this is beautiful

I had a professor who would talk in class about her wife and their four daughters and it always made me go !!! inside. like, wooooow, family goals.

In my undergrad, I took a module that had two lecturers teaching it. The first was very butch and would occasionally talk about how brilliant her wife was in the field and would talk about her kids and general family life. Then the other lecturer took over classes, and she would talk about her wife too, and how brilliant her wife was academically. Then they taught a class together and the penny dropped. They were talking about each other and both thought the other was the literal shit in their area of media. 

It’s been delightful for me to watch my friends finally able to get legally married. Every time @crofethr says “my wife” it’s like a chorus of bluejays dance around behind her.

I was at work at a deli a few weeks ago and this group of three women came in pretty late at night. One was the mother of one of them, and the other two were just being really cute and holding hands and cuddling and whatnot. One was leaning on the other and she seemed really tired, so her wife ordered for her and the mom was like, “Married for seven years, they know each others’ orders by heart” and I honestly felt like I’d been blessed

one time a lecturer was discussing all the stupid reasons she’s been called up in front of the board (which include an actual formal accusation of witchcraft) and once a student accused her of homophobia and homophobic statements and she walked into the formal board hearing with her only prepared defense being “remember how I’m married to another woman ok thanks let’s go get lunch” 

omg when ladies talk about their wives and just say “my wife” I just get so excited and happy because it is all possible and real. it’s so amazing and beautiful

I’m an optician and one day I had 2 women, one blonde and one brunette, come in to pick up glasses. I had the blonde try on hers while the brunette was talking to one of my coworkers. When she put them on I said, “Oh looks like they’re not sitting straight.” Without missing a beat she said “Oh honey, nothing about me is straight,” and proceeded to pat her wife on the butt and say “Honey, did you hear what I said? It was really funny. Honey? Honey, I said nothing about me is straight.”

Dad jokes are for lesbians too.

davekatswag:

one time my dad gave me a glass of milk and i meant to ask him “who’s milk is this” because i wasnt sure if it was for me or if i was supposed to give it to my brother but instead i just stared down at the milk and said “who’s this”

then my dad turned to me without missing a beat and said “that’s your new friend mr. milk.” and we stared at each other and then he asked me if i was high

to this day i still have not lived it down

erikahammerschmidt:

One time in grade school, I was sitting around minding my own business, when some other kid walked up to me. I don’t remember anything about this kid– name, gender, anything. I only remember what happened next.

The kid said, “I won a pig.”

I didn’t have any context for this. I didn’t know this kid, and our school was in the city. It’s not like there were any contests going around where the prize was a pig. Not that I knew of, anyway. And if there were, why would it be any of my business? My mind didn’t really know what to do with this information.

So my mind did what it always does when it can’t think of anything else to do. It made a really pitifully horrible pun.

I said, “I TWO a pig.”

And the other kid went along with this, and said, “I three a pig.”

And we kept going, four a pig, five a pig, and so on–

–all the way until the other kid says “I seven a pig,” and I answer, “I eight a pig.”

And then I realize this was all a setup– one of those elaborate grade school jokes where you try to get someone to say something rude or embarrassing like “liquor and rubber buns” or “ICUP.” Yeah, very funny. I ate a pig.

And it wasn’t till years later that I realized how much of a leap of faith this kid took. They walked up to me with NO context and said “I won a pig,” just TRUSTING that I would carry the joke all the way to its natural conclusion.

Did they somehow know my pun-obsessed mind well enough to predict that I would make that specific pun on “won” and “one”? Even though I didn’t have any idea who they were?

Or did they actually forget that you’re supposed to explain the rules of the joke first (“okay, you repeat what I said, but with the next number!”) and did they just happen to get incredibly lucky?

Or maybe they actually freaking won a pig, and were just trying to tell me about it,  and
when I made a pun they just decided to run with it, and it was sheer coincidence that it just accidentally turned into a joke.

I want to find this kid, someday, and ask what the crap was going on. Too bad I have no idea who they were.

gallusrostromegalus:

So, last November, I was driving to Denver with my sister, when she told me she identified as Asexual and felt that I should know.  I think she was expecting me to ask a bunch of weird questions because she literally pulled out notes, but I got to be “Nah, it’s all good and I’m glad you feel safe enough to some out.” and since there wasn’t much more to say, we went back to swearing at the shitty drivers on I-25.

Two exits later, it occurred to me that I hadn’t actually seen my sister for a year prior and might have forgotten to come out to her when I was doing it last March.  “Just to be clear- you know I’m Bi, right?”

“OH MY GOD.” she howls, making me almost plow into a pickup in surprise.  “YOU’RE EITHER AND I’M NEITHER.”  

I had to pull over I started laughing to hard.

***

I bring this up because 1. She just publicly came out and 2. SHE MADE US MATCHING SHIRTS FOR THE NEXT PRIDE.  I LOVE IT.

seananmcguire:

optimysticals:

dragovianknight:

digitaldiscipline:

lanibgoode:

“Gus Was Delicious” would not be the worst chapter title for the animal antics chapter of your autobiography, @seananmcguire.

Gus could not Play Nicely with the other Murderbirds.

*dying*

I love you and your bizarre animal adventures

@seananmcguire

I am a delight.

vaspider:

gallusrostromegalus:

So y’all keep blowing up my notes with the various Family Lore stories I’ve been telling, so I guess I should tell one on my parents now.

My Mother’s Father was part of the United Auto Worker’s Union, and during the 50′s and 60′s, was on strike a lot. My point is, grandpa got himself an entirely deserved reputation for being a sucker who loved animals, so people would dump thier pets on him. Hence, my mother grew up in a house with pets such as Picket the one-eyed tomcat, Tweety the Bald canary, Dummy the cat, Stupid Son of Dummy, Spooky Garbage Dog and Chiquita the Tarantula.  Eventually Grandma put her foot down when Grandpa brought home Gerta the Saint Bernard.

I say all this because it provides some context for how the following occured.

Mom and Dad had just moved in together (my parents dated for six years and were engaged for 13 days, driving everyone on both sides insane), and unfortunately, My mother’s German Shepherd, Cops, has just passed away due to bone cancer.  After mourning for a bit, Mom and Dad decided to get a dog together, as a couple.  

For context, my father had never owned a dog in his life.  His mother had ‘Pretty Bird” the budgie as a child but parrots are alien life forms, not pets.

So they go to the Palo Alto Animal shelter to adopt.  The year was 1987, and at the time, Palo Alto was… not a great place.  Lots of drugs, gangs and poor civic managment.  Mom told me that she learned to identify different types of gunfire while living there. They get there, and mom explains that she’s always had a preference for Big Dogs, and the guy’s face lights up.  Oh Yes, he says, We have a Big Dog.  For expirienced owners, yep, adoptable today, here we’ll give you a discount even-

Somehow my parents were not suspicious about this.

They were shown to the Animal in question, a Gorgeous blue-sable beastie with pretty golden eyes who immediately pressed herself against the fence and gave them the best PUH-LEEEEEEASE TAKE ME HOME puppy eyes 100lbs of canine can do.  Mom and Dad fall in love instantly.  They sign all the paperwork and take her home for $10, and name her “Mazel” as in “Mazel Tov.”

Within the hour, it becomes clear that something is amiss.

Cops had lived with his kibble stored in a plastic garbage can in the garage for six years without incident.  Mazel figured out how to open doors and got the locking lid off the can in six minutes, horking down about four pounds of the stuff before my mother notices that it’s been weirdly quiet.  Most dogs bark at or chase squirrels.  Mazel stalked and caught one the second day, presenting it to my mother like an offering.  Mazel knew all her commands but would clearly stop to consider before obeying, and trained my dad to give her good treats within a week.  The locks on the side-yard gate were undone, and she took a stroll around the neighborhood, but always retuned home for dinner.

After a week of gradually realizing that Mazel was smarter than most of the professors my mom worked with, they took her to the Vet for a routine checkup.

Dr. Hamada walked into the exam room, dropped the clip-board and said “Where the HELL did you get a Wolf?”

After a bit of prodding and a very-angry-dr.hamada-calling-the-pound, they determined Mazel was a high-content hybrid, probably with a husky, but was going to be a lil shit her entire life.  OK, said Hamada, I don’t like destroying animals and you’ve got a lot of expirience with dogs, so I’m okay with letting you keep her, but you should keep her away from small children because her Prey Drive could kick in.

Two years later, mom got pregnant with me.

Mazel noticed instantly, and reacted by digging a large hole in the yard and catching even more squirrels for mom, because she needed the protein or something.  That what you do when the Alpha Bitch is preggers, right?  Dig a den and ply her with food?  On the advice of my grandmother, my mom stayed overnight at the hospital once I was delivered, and dad went home with a shirt that had moms and my scent on it.  Mazel spent the whole night puzzling over it.

The next morning, when mom came home with me, there was the sudden and instantaneous recognition of PUPPY!!!!!! :D:D:D!!!!! PUUUUUUUPPY!!!!!!  and Mazel turned into the most aggressively maternal being I’ve ever met.  Playing with me on the blanket, sitting under my chair at meals (I was a messy eater), sleeping under my crib, teaching me to walk by letting me hang onto her fur and shuffle around.

Dr. Hamada thought mom was a madwoman, until he saw me holding Mazel’s mouth open and sticking my face in so i could look at her teeth.  He gave up when my mom announced she was pregnant with my sister.

I’m making living with a Wolfdog sound awesome, but it did come with some drawbacks:

• Mazel did have to be muzzled at the vets, because she had Opinions about having things stuck up her butt.
  
• HAIR.  One of my chores growing up was to brush her out every week and I’d frequently end up with more hair than animal.
• the only way we could reliably get her to stay in the yard was with an overhead tether with a STEEL cable, which she chewed through anyway.
• Do you like waking up by being hit in the face with half a dead animal? No? Wolfdogs may not be for you.
• More than capable of opening the fridge and eating everything if you’re not watching
• Will get into everything if not otherwise occupied.  Including eating your tax forms.
• Howls along with sirens at 4 AM.

PROS of growing up with a wolfdog, as a small child in the 90′s

• I was afforded a degree of freedom normally associated with a pokemon trianer. It was no big deal for me and my sister to walk three miles through my not-really-good neighborhood to the Froyo if I took Mazel with us. People tended to leave us alone when we had 100lbs of overprotective Apex Predator following us around.
  
• WINNING at Pet Day at school.  There wasn’t actually a compettion but Billy’s hamster sucks in comparison to an animal that is perfectly willing to demonstrate how she can snap an oak branch in half on command.
• PTA moms losing their shit because Mazel would walk down the block by herself to come pick ups up from school.
• Grew up associating the word “Bitch” with teeth and the willingness to rip an asshole’s face off for being rude.  Never changed the definition.
• Learned the I-Own-This Strut and Murder-Stare from the absolute best.

When she was 17, Mom and Dad decided to add another room on to the house.  They rigged up the overhead tether so she could be outside but not underfoot for the contruction guys.  One morning, mom came out to notice them all milling in the side yard entrance, muttering worriedly.  When mom asked what was wrong, one of them explained that Carlos forgot to bring the Hamburger.  What do you need a hamburger for?  Asked mom, and they pointed down the side yard to where Mazel was sitting, doing her best Viscious Alpha Bitch Stare.

Apparently they’d never realized that she was on the VERY end of her tether there and couldn’t actually get to them, and had been scamming them for a big mac a day for a month.  Mom had my six-year-old sister pull her away to show she wasn’t dangerous and tired her best not to laugh but kind of failed.

Mazel ended up living to be 19 and a half, and except for some minor arthritis, remarkably hale until the day she passed away in her hole in the back yard while taking a nap.  I maintain that Death had to wait until she was sleeping to get a crack at her, or she would’ve taken his scythe for a chew toy.

tbh this sounds like one of @seananmcguire‘s stories and I do not doubt it a bit bc I know all of Seanan’s stories are true. XD

mnwood:

have i ever told y’all about the greatest moment of my academic career

i was a freshman in college and i had this history teacher who was ~edgy~ and his hotness level on ratemyprofessor was off the charts and he was the first teacher i ever heard use the word “fuck.” anyway he would do this thing every so often where we’d have a “quiz” and the first two questions were always really easy and the last one was hard - they were all similar questions, and the point was to show what you learn about history and what you don’t. 

so one day he’s like okay kids time for a quiz and the first question was who killed abraham lincoln. the second question was who killed JFK. third question was who killed william mckinley. 

we all take a few minutes and write down our answers, and then the teacher asks the questions again so we can shout out the answers. everybody answered the first two with really no problem.

now, keep in mind that this class was at 9 a.m. and i was exhausted All The Time during my freshman year of college so i sat in the back in my sweats and never said a word and the teacher definitely had no clue who i was. 

so you can imagine his surprise when he asked the class who shot william mckinley and without missing a beat i said, “czolgosz,” pronounced correctly and everything. 

my teacher froze and in a very stern voice asked, “what was that? what did someone just say?”

i repeated: czolgosz.

my teacher: “who said that?”

i raised my hand, and my super cool history teacher glared at me. he then asked me how the hell i knew the answer. he said that in the TWENTY YEARS he’d been teaching this stupid class, nobody, not A SINGLE PERSON, had ever known the answer to that question.

i then had to quietly explain to a room full of people that there’s a musical called assassins and there’s a song about czolgosz shooting william mckinley at the great pan american exposition in buffaloooooooo (in buffaloooooooo)

halbeary:

interstellarsentience:

birditude:

interstellarsentience:

once upon a time young young teenage me used to write fan fiction like my life depended on it, new fics every week and I had no idea there was someone out there printing out my fics and putting them in a box to read when they needed something to cheer them up

anyways fast forward to 20 year old me on my third date with Emily and she mentions offhand that she’s got this box of fic she printed out and saved

it’s a few months later after that and she shows me one of the fics in the box and holy shit that’s my garbage fic from so long ago

anyways my point is life is a fucking trip my dude

i still remember when we found this out. i don’t think either of us stopped yelling for hours

look it’s been eight years and I’m still like LMAO I MARRIED A FAN

This is the cutest thing I’ve ever read in my whole life

pipistrellus:

pipistrellus:

One time I brought one of my rocks with me on a plane to touch to calm me down during the flight, but it fell out of my pocket on my way back to the bathroom and then as soon as i realized this they actually announced “did anyone lose…… . A rock” over the loudspeaker system.

When I went up to claim it the plane man, clearly unable to throw off the shackles of his training in the procedure of asking for people’s full names and birthdates when they come to claim wallets, said “wait no, first tell me what color it is so I know it’s really yours”

He seemed to realize this was stupid directly after saying it and kind of smiled like to make it a joke but the joke was on him bc I Described the fucking rock to him for like 30 solid seconds

…anyway. that was an interaction I had once

this is like the only viral post that i dont regret making at ALL