My first pride was great and the drag queens and performers were wonderful but the real star of the show was the ASL translator they had working there
Like I don’t know who she was but she was fucking VIBING
Every 21st century piece of writing advice: Make us CARE about the character from page 1! Make us empathize with them! Make them interesting and different but still relatable and likable!
Every piece of classic literature: Hi. It's me. The bland everyman whose only purpose is to tell you this story. I have no actual personality. Here's the story of the time I encountered the worst people I ever met in my life. But first, ten pages of description about the place in which I met them.
My boyfriend was on the phone with his dad yesterday so I went out to sit on the patio to pet the geese and play on my phone for a bit, and while out there I came across a comic of baby Grimace (yes, that Grimace) being sad because everyone hated his milkshake and saying he wished he never had a birthday. Then there was a follow up where tons of people had commented saying they loved the shake and wished Grimace a happy birthday, and that made him happy again.
This, for whatever reason, emotionally devastated me. I was sobbing. I was ugly crying so bad that even the geese waddled away side-eyeing me.
After a while my bf yelled from inside, "Okay, you ready for dinner?" and I was forced to accept I had to go back in the house a defeated sniffly little wreck.
My boyfriend, who has only ever seen me cry once in the whole year we've been together, looked horrorstruck. He assumed the worst. Someone got hurt. Something was wrong with my family. Someone was mean to me (a cardinal sin). The panic that washed over his face was unparalleled.
He, upon seeing me, (somewhat theatrically) rushed over and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What's wrong, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked, frantic. "What is it?"
I realized how ridiculous the whole situation was and just shook my head.
He was growing more panicked. "What is it? Why are you crying?"
I then had to stand there and look him, this completely normal human being, in the eyes, and blurt out "Grimace"
Confused silence followed.
"....Grimace?"
I nodded.
"...The McDonalds guy...thing?"
I nodded.
"What...what did...Grimace...do to you?"
I then tearfully recounted the silly internet comic that had absolutely broken my heart. And this poor guy--this poor, wonderfully sweet, nice, patient guy--kindly stood there trying to figure out how to comfort me that Grimace was not, in fact, sad. (Nevermind that he's a corporate mascot who isn't real)
This morning my phone rang just after 5am. It was my boyfriend. It was my turn to panic, to assume the worst.
I didn't even have time to say hello before he started excitedly yelling, "Look at the TikTok I just sent you! Look! Open it!"
Confused and not entirely convinced I wasn't still asleep, I opened the TikTok.
An official release from McDonalds confirming Grimace (who still isn't real) did, in fact, feel special on his birthday.
passed a memorial on my morning trot today. buckaroo about my age, lots of flowers. went to his instagram to learn his way and it was just packed full of photos with buds and good times. you strip away the body and all thats left is love. sad but also very beautiful and important
The fact that this is 80 fucking years ago but still just as relevant is terrifying.
Love seeing them being the staple of pride month each year
Best of favorite dance moves 💃🕺 via @ Ed People on Youtube https://twitter.com/TansuYegen/status/1560874626380857344
Y’know what guardian yeah you’re right ghosts is the only light in this bin fire of a world
(Here’s the article if you wanna read it, it’s very sweet!)
Sometimes in a crowded mallI realize that everyone has a life of their ownAnd it’s like seeing infinity ignoring itself.
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