Back in the early aughts, when many millenials were in high school, before Facebook and Youtube, The Game began. No one knows who started it, but the moment we learned we were playing it, we began to lose. The goal of The Game is to forget you are playing The Game for as long as possible. The rules of The Game are as follows: Everyone is always playing The Game all the time; at school, during breakfast, at night when you are asleep, etc. The Game never ends. The moment you remember that you are playing The Game, you lose and must immediately announce to those around you, “I just lost The Game!” thus making them remember they are also playing The Game and causing them to lose as well. Upon losing, you begin The Game again. Sometimes players could go weeks or months without losing, sometimes only minutes. At the height of The Game’s popularity, it became common to see people at events such as Comic Con or midnight movie premieres, wearing t-shirts proclaiming “You just lost The Game!” Once they were noticed, groans and shouts of “Fuck you!” could be heard for miles. These people thrived on the chaos, taking great pleasure in the cries of their victims. Most people eventually grew bored of The Game, and many began to claim they won by choosing not to care about it anymore. Some rely on a particular XKCD comic strip or Tumblr post to lend a sense of legitimacy to their feeling of victory. They are fools. It is impossible to win The Game. There is only losing. Only a few diehards remain loyal to the rules. The drop in popularity has allowed many to keep from losing The Game for years at a time. The growth of social media has caused a minor resurgence, although without the satisfaction of real time auditory feedback when causing others to lose, The Game will likely fade back into obscurity once again. Someday when we are old and gray, our grandchildren will innocently ask us to play a game of checkers, and we will shriek and shout until the whole nursing home joins us in defeat. Death is the only release from The Game.
R.I.P. The 2976 American people that lost their lives on 9/11 and R.I.P. the 48,644 Afghan and 1,690,903 Iraqi and 35000 Pakistani people that paid the ultimate price for a crime they did not commit
this is the only september 11th post I’m reblogging
There was something sharp in his pocket – like a tiny needle, poking him in the side through his clothes. Thor grimaced and fished around in his pocket. His fingers scrabbled across metal – smooth, covered in a light pattern of scratches.
“Whatcha got there?” said Rocket, from the chair by Thor’s bed. He was messing around with the complimentary tablet that the Wakandans had put in every guest room. Everyone who’d survived had been herded into these rooms, hoping that they’d be able to rest after their ordeal.
Things exploded on the screen, the light flashing across Rocket’s fur. His tiny hands shook.
Thor sat heavily on the edge of the bed. He pulled the metal object from his pocket and stared at it, turning it over in his hand. It was his eyepatch. He hadn’t worn it since Rocket gave him the cybernetic eye, but something had told him to keep it in his pocket. For sentiment’s sake, if nothing else.
“Oh, pshh, that old thing,” Rocket drawled. He waved a dismissive hand, not looking up from his game. “You can toss that, you don’t need it anymore. That eye still giving you trouble?”
It was, frankly. It kept getting stuck in awkward positions, and sometimes everything got hazy in that eye. But it didn’t get as many stares as an eyepatch did – and Thor didn’t want to hurt Rocket’s feelings.
“Nah, it’s fine,” he said. “You’re right -”
“ ‘Course I am.”
“Maybe I should get rid of this.”
Shink!
Thor yelped as something sharp poked his hand. “What the hell?” he spluttered, dropping it. A tiny sliver of metal, no larger than a sewing needle, had come off the patch and stabbed him.
Rocket gave him a look over the tablet. “Now what,” he said flatly.
“It stabbed me!” Thor insisted, standing up and pointing at the eyepatch, which was now sitting rather smugly on he ground. He glared at it. “It just -”
He paused.
“It what?”
He ignored Rocket and slowly knelt on the floor by the eyepatch. It was gleaming oddly in the light – not the shine of polished bronze, something deeper. Greener.
Thor slowly reached out to prod it with one finger.
Blam!
An explosion of light, and a figure suddenly towered over him. “Holy shit!” Rocket yelled, grabbing his gun.
Thor just sat there and stared.
His brother stared back – grimy, pale, and bleeding from several nasty-looking wounds, but alive.
“Loki?” he breathed.
The trickster was silent for a long, long moment. Finally he spread his hands and said, sheepishly, “Mbleurgh, it’s me.”
It came out more like a question than a response, but it didn’t matter. Thor shot to his feet and wrapped his arms around his brother. Tears surged from his eyes. If Loki noticed, he graciously said nothing. “You’ve got to stop doing this to me,” Thor croaked.
He felt Loki smirk into his shoulder. “I told you,” he said softly. “The sun would shine on us again.”
When I was still in high school I went into the girls toilets one morning before classes started. I could hear this girl crying from one of the cubicles. When I asked her what was wrong she said to me “I just started my period. I don’t know what to do!” I asked her what she meant and she said “My mum can’t afford them. She said if this ever happened I have to go home right away” When I gave her one of the pads from my bag she literally hugged me so tight. she was sobbing while saying to me "Now I can stay at school thank you" That hit me so hard. I gave her my lunch money so she could buy her own. My cheese toastie means nothing to me at this point if I can give this one girl something she needs. Sanitary Products are not a luxury item. Period poverty is real. I’m so proud of my wee country right now.💙
This needs to be International, starting YESTERDAY.
Why is this only Scotland?!? Like kudos to them for being the only country that respects the female body
The problem about this is that Scotland can’t afford to sustain this, they have some of the lowest taxes in the UK and only about 5 million people. The free uni and other cheaper products they have is because they borrow a lot of money from england.
@why-do-I-even-try-miffy Absolutely utter bollocks. Stop spreading misinformation. Scotland is a net contributor to the UK treasury year after year.
Don’t know where you’re pulling ‘cheaper products’ from but free tuition is paid for by the people of Scotland in tax revenue.
Lowest rates for those most vulnerable. Scotland operates as progressive rate of tax, those that can afford to pay more in tax, pay more in tax. What’s the point in taxing those who struggle to pay the most into the ground? This is basic common sense shit.
The fact you see it as ‘borrow money from England’ goes to show you know absolutely fuck all about how the UK is run. Please educate yourself for the good of those around you.
So for my AP United States History class we have to write a research paper; my topic is the gay rights movement in America. Today I began reading one of the books that I chose as a source
And I opened it up to the dedication page and found this
And if you don’t think that’s one of the sweetest and most romantic things ever then get out of my face
Ok, for the record, the author of this book, Jonathan Rauch, is a friend of my family, I’ve known him since I was a little kid, and I am here to tell you all that he and Michael have been together for 20-odd years now, got married in 2010, and remain to this day obviously, excessively, and adorably in love.
Anyway, they’re cute. Thought y’all would want to know.
willowfoot 