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November 12 2017

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Branson Murder Mystery Christmas Show



Branson Murder Mystery Christmas Show

November 10 2017

November 04 2017

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October 22 2017

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October 08 2017

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October 05 2017

August 31 2017



I enjoy the joke interaction banners as much as anybody else but keep in mind that when you’re saying interaction banners are cringey you’re ignoring why they’re used. A lot of minors use these to prevent literal adults including their content in kink spaces. i.e.: a place that is dangerous for them.

I could go on and on about other reasons why certain groups are asked not to interact via these banners but that’s the most commonly used. It’s okay to joke about them but it is not okay to make fun of people trying to stim in peace and protect themselves.

People really need to take this issue more seriously. 

You are allowed to join tumblr at 13 years old.  

Adults should not, for any reason, be making minors who are allowed to be here uncomfortable and exposing them to sexual content by interacting with their posts. If you have your own blog and make your own nsfw posts and properly tag them, then I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about grown ass adults farming content for their kink blogs from minors who have repeatedly asked not to be made a part of it. 

The worst is that I’ve seen adults fucking whine about it “but where am I supposed to reblog from?” 








Abusive men pave the way for lazy men to get wives and girlfirends.

Lemme clarify, how many times have you heard your overworked female friends and relatives say “Yeah, Jerry drinks beer every evening after work while I cook dinner and clean up after everyone and does the bare minimum to help me raise the kids but he’s such a nice guy. He’s never beat me in my life. I couldn’t ask for a better guy in my life.”

Like no, Sally, your husband is a common stone among turds and you know it.

I try to explain this conceptually to people as a thing that happens not saying that this is good but it’s a thing that happens.

This is what male privilege is and how all men benefit from it.

This is why you are not exempt from statements about “all men” even if you are overall good.

You benefit from the bar constantly being lowered by systemic issues within the gender.

The expectations on you are always lower than they should because “at least you’re not X”.

That…is the best response I’ve seen to the “not all men” thing. Thank you.

“a common stone among turds” is a beautiful phrase. thank you for it.

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so tonight im working super late at an adults-only event at the zoo where it’s basically endless beer and wine tasting and then wandering around the zoo at night. Keepers mainly sit around then we just take turns going up for a circuit through our areas and let me tell you as the night has gone on things have gotten more entertaining. So far I have seen:

-A group of drunk girls legit crying in front of the puffin exhibit because they’re Too Cute

-A dude pointed at a vacant eyed, open mouthed, coldwater fish and, completely deadpan, turned to his friend and went “it’s you”

-overheard a very serious debate on whether or not sea turtles sleep (”Ted you fucking moron everything fuckin sleeps jesus christ”

-A girl stroking her hand back and forth on the glass in front of a chillin Amazon cichlid (idk what part ok freshwater exhibits aint my thing) cooing “It’s just so pretty I want to be it’s friend”

-A man enthusiastically singing a ballad in front of the aquarium with some grand drunk improv like one standout line was “What we doin at the zoOOOoooOOooo? We drinkin a breeEWWWwwwwwwwww!”

-a very harried voice on the radio sighing “we need more captain morgan and vodka at concessions”

-five calls for medics

-three calls for broken glass

-A girl standing on her own in the middle of the shark reef tunnel, staring straight up with an open mouth and arms limp at her sides, oblivious to all the people around her

- “Ahaha. holy shit look at all of it’s legs” said in front of the octopus exhibit

-overheard a loud furious “DID YOU JUST FUCKING AS ME IF THE PENGUINS ARE FAKE?!” 

-This exchange on the radio
“Hi concessions to event management? What do we do with the used napkins?”
Long pause, then a disgusted “You throw them away. Because they’re garbage.”

(honestly prayer circle for concessions)

- “holy shit it’s nemo what up dude” (I hear a million variations of “i found nemo!” but this is my favorite so far ok)

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reblog this image to die instantly


Aw, how’s this for some good old nostalgia?




No way.


I guess nobody remembered that I was on FictionPress, too.

So, hi. I’m the girl you all knew as Tara. My FF.net account really was hacked (twice!), once in 2006 and again in 2009. As of 2017, Support still doesn’t answer my requests to regain it, although I can’t say I blame them. They’re probably scared I’ll flood their site with poorly written sex scenes again.

I’m lucky the hackers never migrated to this account, considering it had the exact same login credentials. (They’ve since been changed, don’t worry.)

I’ll let the account’s creation date speak as to whether it’s legitimate or not.

Thank you all so, so much for keeping My Immortal alive over the years. You fill my heart with so much love. (Preppy moment, oops.)

That’s about all I have to say for now.

Because I’ve received several messages asking this, and predict I may receive more, I’ll answer it here. No, I am not Lani Sarem. Really bad fiction simply tends to read the same. No, I’m not on Facebook. Or Deviantart. Or MySpace. Or Youtube. (Etc.) I am on Tumblr. But I use my real name there, and it’s not Tara.

She’s okay!

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USPS is largest employer of veterans. Figures Republicans are attacking the vets.

The US Postal Service’s forced financial crisis

In 2006 – Republicans in Congress passed a poison pill piece of legislation forcing the Post Office to pre-fund retiree health benefits 75 years out into the future – basically funding benefits for future employees who aren’t even born yet. The Postal Service has to do this by giving the Treasury $5.5 billion every single year. That’s a requirement that no business, or any government agency has ever had to comply with. And it’s the reason why the Post Office is going bankrupt today and looking into closing down post offices, laying off workers, and cutting down delivery service.

So why is all this happening? Because the Postal Service employs hundreds of thousands of unionized workers – where as private mail carriers like UPS and Fed Ex do not. Republicans – in their non-stop war on labor – realized that they could hurt unions by bankrupting the Postal Service. That’s what they did in 2006, and their plan is working today.


Just an FYI, this is how much more expensive shopping online will be if USPS goes away. For small and lightweight packages like t-shirts, USPS wins hands down. 

This is a screen shot of me buying a shipping label for an 8oz package from WA to NJ via USPS.

This is a screen shot of me buying a shipping label for an 8oz package to the same address via FedEx. 

Don’t forget, sellers need to charge a little extra to cover their packing materials and such.

So do you want to pay $4-$5 shipping, or do you want to pay $13 - $14 shipping?

Oh, and notice that USPS has an estimated arrival date of September 2nd vs FedEx September 6th. 

America’s small businesses rely on USPS. 

The cost difference between them is no joke- and we’ve had a lot of increases to USPS’s shipping in the last few years as well, so even with those increases it’s less than half the cost of what FedEx would charge you to send the same object the same distance. Now imagine if private shipping was the only option; how much would it cost then?

Right now it costs me about $3 (before envelopes, etc) to ship the average order in the US. If I use UPS or FedEx? That number literally triples. Some orders can be shipped for under a dollar with USPS. Not so with private shippers.

please save the postal service, stop working its workers to death, fund it properly, please





I guess I had so completely absorbed the prevailing wisdom that I expected people in bankruptcy to look scruffy or shifty or generally disreputable. But what struck me was that they looked so normal.

The people appearing before that judge came in all colors, sizes, and ages. A number of men wore ill-fitting suits, two or three of them with bolero ties, and nearly everyone dressed up for the day. They looked like they were on their way to church. An older couple held onto each other as they walked carefully down the aisle and found a seat. A young mother gently jiggled her keys for the baby in her lap. Everyone was quiet, speaking in hushed tones or not at all. Lawyers – at least I thought they were lawyers – seemed to herd people from one place to another.

I didn’t stay long. I felt as if I knew everyone in that courtroom, and I wanted out of there. It was like staring at a car crash, a car crash involving people you knew.

Later, our data would confirm what I had seen in San Antonio that day. The people seeking the judge’s decree were once solidly middle-class. They had gone to college, found good jobs, gotten married, and bought homes. Now they were flat busted, standing in front of that judge and all the world, ready to give up nearly everything they owned just to get some relief from the bill collectors.

As the data continued to come in, the story got scarier. San Antonio was no exception: all around the country, the overwhelming majority of people filing for bankruptcy were regular families who had hit hard times. Over time we learned that nearly 90 percent were declaring bankruptcy for one of three reasons: a job loss, a medical problem, or a family breakup (typically divorce, sometimes the death of a husband or wife). By the time these families arrived in the bankruptcy court, they had pretty much run out of options. Dad had lost his job or Mom had gotten cancer, and they had been battling for financial survival for a year or longer. They had no savings, no pension plan, and no homes or cars that weren’t already smothered by mortgages. Many owed at least a full year’s income in credit card debt alone. They owed so much that even if they never bought another thing – even if Dad got his job back tomorrow and Mom had a miraculous recovery – the mountain of debt would keep growing on its own, fueled by penalties and compounding interest rates that doubled their debts every few years. By the time they came before a bankruptcy judge, they were so deep in debt that being flat broke – owning nothing, but free from debt – looked like a huge step up and worth a deep personal embarrassment.

Worse yet, the number of bankrupt families was climbing. In the early 1980s, when my partners and I first started collecting data, the number of families annually filing for bankruptcy topped a quarter of a million. True, a recession had hobbled the nation’s economy and squeezed a lot of families, but as the 1980s wore on and the economy recovered, the number of bankruptcies unexpectedly doubled. Suddenly, there was a lot of talk about how Americans had lost their sense of right and wrong, how people were buying piles of stuff they didn’t actually need and then running away when the bills came due. Banks complained loudly about unpaid credit card bills. The word deadbeat got tossed around a lot. It seemed that people filing for bankruptcy weren’t just financial failures – they had also committed an unforgivable sin.

Part of me still wanted to buy the deadbeat story because it was so comforting. But somewhere along the way, while collecting all those bits of data, I came to know who these people were.

In one of our studies, we asked people to explain in their own words why they filed for bankruptcy. I figured that most of them would probably tell stories that made them look good or that relieved them of guilt.

I still remember sitting down with the first stack of questionnaires. As I started reading, I’m sure I wore my most jaded, squinty-eyed expression.

The comments hit me like a physical blow. They were filled with self-loathing. One man had written just three words to explain why he was in bankruptcy:


When writing about their lives, people blamed themselves for taking out a mortgage they didn’t understand. They blamed themselves for their failure to realize their jobs weren’t secure. They blamed themselves for their misplaced trust in no-good husbands and cheating wives. It was blindingly obvious to me that most people saw bankruptcy as a profound personal failure, a sign that they were losers through and through.

Some of the stories were detailed and sad, describing the death of a child or what it meant to be laid off after thirty-three years with the same company. Others stripped a world of pain down to the bare facts:

Wife died of cancer. Left $65,000 in medical bills after insurance.
Lack of full-time work – worked five part-time jobs to meet rent, utilities, phone, food, and insurance

They thought they were safe – safe in their jobs and their lives and their love – but they weren’t.

I ran my fingers over one of the papers, thinking about a woman who had tried to explain how her life had become such a disaster. A turn here, a turn there, and her life might have been very different.

Divorce, an unhappy second marriage, a serious illness, no job. A turn here, a turn there, and my life might have been very different, too.

– A Fighting Chance by Elizabeth Warren, pg. 34 - pg. 36

(Bolding mine)

I don’t want to derail this too hard. And I am terrifyingly, shakingly conscious that I live in the UK, with its mildly-socialist leanings and socialised healthcare and council houses for homeless families, and I know in my head that even if the locusts come for everything I have, if I just stay on this particular piece of land, I will be able to keep the baby alive -

I don’t want to derail too hard, but when people ask “why aren’t young people getting houses and babies” and so on: look at this post, the raw terror of this post. The reality of the locusts. The facial markings on the face of the wolf at the door.

Young people today, like the people of the Great Depression and the World-Wars-In-The-Arena-Of-Combat, know that these things can be taken away. Just. Wiped off the map.

A turn here, a turn there, and your life is over and your game is done, and you have to stand there in your shame, having lost everything.

So the response to that is: have nothing, and you can’t lose everything.

I can see the appeal.

But I wonder how deep in our hearts this nihilism can get. What its impacts will be. How can we plan for the future of the planet, when our brains can only focus on the £300 on our credit card, and panic.

What did this do to us? The children of the bankruptcy. The kids raised in this religion. can we make ourselves okay.

The most lingering comment I ever heard someone make about Millennials was an older man I was talking to about the way we think about finances–when he dreamed about being a millionaire as a young man, he talked about yachts and mansions and trips to the Bahamas; when I did, I talked about living debt-free and being able to buy dinner out without looking at my monthly budget.  He heard me out, took me seriously.

And at the end of it all, he nodded and looked at me and asked, “Do you know who you remind me of?”

And I said no, no I didn’t, and he nodded some more.

“My mother.  She grew up just before the Depression hit, and she saw people lose everything left and right.  And whenever she talked about finances, she sounded just like you.”  He paused for a moment, and said, “I never really thought about what growing up like that would do to a generation.”

He still brings that conversation up, years later.  He hasn’t made a single derisive comment about Millennials since.

^ This hit me hard.

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Employers threaten their workers with being fired if they don’t come to work despite deadly weather conditions. It’s sickening and not inspirational.

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