WittyProfileName2 [she/her]

Cofiwch Dryweryn england-cool

  • 0 Posts
  • 121 Comments
Joined 4 years ago
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Cake day: March 15th, 2021

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  • Huge problem imho, is that a lot of these people who rattle on about voting for harm reduction candidates go home after voting on election day and then don’t get involved politically until the next election cycle.

    In these bourgeois “democracies” political parties are always going to move to court wealthy donors and thus shift right wing. If you lot over in America can’t mobilise enough people out in the street to fight for these causes, to grind your country to a screaming halt if needs be, then the Dems will be where labour is soon. Maybe not this election, but check back in with this comment by the midterms.


  • I guess there’s some small comfort that they’ll at least pay lip service to trans rights then.

    The labour party won an election over here and one of the first things they did was stop access to puberty blockers. During the election I was told by a lot of liberals preaching harm reduction that, as a trans woman, that I had to vote for them 'cos the Tories would be worse.

    I’m worried about trans people over on your side of the ocean being in a similar position where the elections are between trans exterminationist and transphobe.





  • Not sure if I’d class it as the craziest moment of my life, but it was like a scene out of a sitcom:

    When I was a teenager I briefly worked part-time at a place that refurbished various household appliances. Donations came in through the front and ended up in back with very little looking over. We took all sorts in and the workshop floor was split into various departments based on what appliances they dealt with. I was a new hire and they were still cycling me 'round various departments, my least favourite one was when I was assigned to cleaning out used ovens.

    One day this box came in and, like, we opened it up and there were various electronic massaging gizmos. So, my supervisor is pulling 'em out, he passes some of 'em to me to give a lookover to make sure they’re clean and do, like, PAT tests and stuff.

    I’m plodding along and he gets to work on the rest himself. I’m doing the tests on this thing that’s like a plastic plate with this piece on the top vaguely shaped like a pair of cupped hands, when my supervisor calls me over to lend a hand. He’s got this black tube that goes a bit wider on one end, about as thick as my wrist. It looked kinda like a torch but with a cap screwed over the bit the light’s in.

    His hands are a bit slippy so he’s having a hard time unscrewing the cap, so he asked me to have a go. Wider end pointed away from me, I wrapped my hand around the cap and gave it a good twist. The first clue I had that something was amiss was that my supervisor went bright red. I asked him what’s wrong and just told me to see for myself, so I turn the thing in my hand and see this silicone orifice looking back at me.

    That was how I learnt what a fleshlight is.






  • I can suggest an equation that has the potential to impact the future:

    Acetyl-CoA + 3H2O + 3NAD+ + FAD + ADP + Pi → 2CO2 + 3NADH + 3H+ + FADH2 + CoA-SH + ATP + H2O + AI

    This combines the Krebs Cycle which relates to glucose metabolism with the addition of artificial intelligence (AI). By including AI in the equation, it symbolises my ability to wank myself to completion without touching my cock, simply by massaging my engorged ego.


  • Guess who’s having a shit time of it lately.

    CW: discussion of self harm, general negative emotions. TL:Dr :(

    I have now officially been rejected by every lab in the country. Not a single scientific institution thinks I’m worthy to work even in roles that require the most bare minimum of qualifications. Since graduating in October, I’ve had one interview (which of course I fucked up) and been ghosted by every other opening I applied for. I’ve wasted five years getting my degree and it hasn’t helped me be employable for shit.

    Now to top it off, I received a letter from the WGS telling me that I’ve missed an appointment that I was never told I had and if I can’t book a new one, I’ll be withdrawn from treatment by the gender service. Ya girl has spent all day alternating between fighting intrusive thoughts of slashing open my wrists in the bath (there’d less mess with my corpse that way) and being put on various answer phones. Still no closer to fixing this than I was when I opened the letter this morning.

    So now, I’m curled up somewhere cosy and dark desperately trying to stop thinking all these terrible thoughts and wishing I could just stop existing. All the while, that damn ringing in my ears has grown noticeably louder.