Plexipixel - PlexiPixel

A while back my psychopathology class did a basic overview of gender terms because we need to understand it to understand what the statistics we’ were given mean, and all I could think of was that xkcd quartz comic.

A guy said sex was “biological gender,” another guy said that a sex that is neither male nor female is nonbinary, and another guy said that a person who’s gender does not align with their sex is “gay.”

Fred Hampton Jr visiting his father on Father’s Day…his grave is annually shot by local police

I can’t remember a time in my life where the summers weren’t full of berries to eat. Every trail has at least a few bushes offering their wares to people walking by.

Many of them aren’t monetized, they don’t keep well, not appealing enough for the bother of cultivating them. Salmon berries, huckleberries, thimble berries. We have black and blue berries, too. But you don’t see most of our local berries in the grocery store.

One of my most precious memories with my beloved was our earliest hike together. They didn’t grow up native to the area and exclaimed in alarm when they saw me reach casually toward a bush to pick a berry as we walked by.

“You can’t just eat berries! What if it’s poisonous?!”

“It’s not,” I said, puzzled. “I guess there’s some poisonous berries around here but I don’t eat those ones, it’s really easy to tell.”

“Those are safe to eat?”

I laughed and popped it into my mouth only to immediately realize it was horribly unripe. Salmon berries come in two colors you see, orange and red.

I’d mistaken an unripe red berry for a ripe orange one. It had felt soft enough to be ripe but it was so bitter it hurt. So an instant after asserting it was safe to eat I opened my mouth with a “bleh” to let it fall back out.

“They- they’re not poisonous it just wasn’t ripe,” I insisted.

My beloved looked skeptical but scanned the bush and plucked another berry to me. “Try this one.”

The sun shone beautifully through the dappled tree canopy, illuminating the gleaming berry in their hand, a perfect snapshot of a romantic summer moment. I took the berry, my fingers brushing their palm to bring the little fruit up to my lips while looking into their smiling eyes.

I had to spit it out.

It was as overwhelmingly bitter as the last one, but I didn’t mind the way my beloved laughed at me.

Saw this baby on Facebook & they deserve to be shared

My soul is trembling in recognition of this truth and I'm not sure how to handle that

As someone who buys a shit tonne of vintage and retro items all the time I need to tell you about the "shart zone" and "prime nuclear cockroach material"

when buying used items i will do anything in my power to avoid the shart zone, which is in the range of 5-10 years old, this is a short enough amount of time for especially electronic items to have not found a way to fall apart horribly but have become out dated enough to have no support and likely will not retain any value. I do however LOVE the nuclear cockroach material zone which is anything 20+ years old. If it still works after 20 years it is going to work forever. A great example of this is my pc which exists in the shart zone and has to be revved up to turn on lawnmower style, but my N64 works fine.