Bishy/Boschy

gallusrostromegalus:

latining:

memecucker:

You can tell when someone’s frame of reference for “normal people” is more “people at the church sponsored ice cream social” and less “people on the bus”

the people in the notes saying “people on the bus aren’t normal” are the people this post is talking about.

I took the bus for three years when I lived in Honolulu and haven’t lived anywhere with even usable public transit since, but in those three years I had dozens of utterly bizarre experiences that were also Perfectly Normal. This is because the human condition is vast and also Very fucking Weird.

Kid one the bus next to me whose backpack starts moving and it turns out he’s got three chickens and a painted turtle he caught in there? This is Perfectly Normal. Humans have been catching small game and transporting it home in whatever they had since we invented bags to put chickens and turtles in.

I traded him three king-size snickers bars I had on me for the turtle because I vaguely remembered that many freshwater turtles were toxic to eat (incorrectly, as it turns out, but this was when I still had a Nokia Brick that lived a blissful, internet-free existence), and didn’t want him accidentally poisoning his family, but didn’t want to just. Steal his hard-won turtle. This is Perfectly Normal. Humans have been cautious about poisons, looking out for strangers kids and bartering shit since before we were technically humans, probably.

Having acquired a turtle, I now needed to transport the turtle to the on-campus pond that effectively served as an Invasive Freshwater Turtle Containment Zone, but did not have a bag that could adequately contain him so I had to sit the rest of that bus ride, at the station and all through the next bus ride holding the turtle like the world’s angriest hamburger. Multiple people were curious about and delighted with the turtle. This is Perfectly Normal. Humans love an animal, especially one that is capable of appearing grumpy, and hands are for holding things.

By the time I got back to Campus, the anthropology and child psychology building that the Invasive Turtle Containment Pond was in had closed, so I had to figure out how to climb the tree over the wall and get down off the roof while holding The World’s Angriest And Sharpest Hamburger. I eventually ended up having to briefly shove the turtle into by bra to get up to the initial branch and off the roof without breaking an ankle. This is Perfectly Normal. Humans are, as a species, a bunch of barely-evolved arboreal frugivores and really good at Tree Physics, and I don’t know a single titty-having bitch out there that hasn’t used their bra as Emergency Pockets at least once, if not daily.

I released the turtle into the Turtle Containment Pond and then had to solve the problem of getting back OUT of the locked building, but Nokia Brick never loses a signal or drops a call (including that time I accidentally dropped it off a 13-story building in the middle of a call to my parents and the damn thing BOUNCED but kept the line open. I miss that phone every day.) and while campus security has been carefully trained to not let people IN to places without proper ID and a call to someone inside, they assume that if you got locked in somewhere, that you got in by legitimate means and not Lemur Shenanigans, so i just called them, apologized that I’d been working late with headphones on and didn’t realize I’d been locked in. This is Perfectly Normal, people have been lying to cops since laws were invented, and will continue to do so because all cops are bastards.

Anyway, everyone should have access to good public transportation because freedom of movement is a human right and meeting a broad spectrum of humanity is good for your mental health and spiritual welfare.

I haven’t been on Tumblr in a long time but I kinda wanna come back. If nothing else I can use it to kind of process thoughts without being perceived too heavily.

Reintroducing. I’m Thomas, I’m 33, I love music. I love to write but it’s a more complicated love because that’s my chosen practice. Writing is like trying to burst a stubborn pimple. You try so hard, and then it a lot of times doesn’t come out how you want, and it’s painful and frustrating, but then sometimes it’s super satisfying but you probably shouldn’t show anyone.

…anyway

I recently came out as bigender and pansexual. The pansexual bit is obvious but the bigender part is one that, even to me, is still kind of a mystery. It makes sense, but also I’m still nailing it down. Like…should I change my name? Have a second name? Undergo gender-affirming medical treatment? No idea. Or maybe some idea? Frick! I’m confused but I’m kinda happy and excited.

I just finished a book. The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet by Becky Chambers. It took me like a year because I have ADHD brains. But it was amazing.

…that’s all

pharah-airways:

lizzieehearts:

everybody reblog this with an everyday thing that would fucking kill a founding father. don’t question it just do it

panicsinlondon:

*Puts new six pack of 100% whole wheat bagels in desk drawer while singing Black Flag’s Six Pack under my breath.*

totallyfubar:

heathyr:

sometimes ………….. books that are considered classics…………. are worse

I like to categorize them into “awful to read but important” and “what asshole thought anybody should look at this with their own two eyes”