[Jean Ralphio’s lines dubbed over images from Star Wars]: “You just missed the craziest of crazies. Clubs. Girls. Dancing. Naked. MOM?! Argument. Police. Fleeing the scene. Hiding in a dumpster. Coming here. Crashing on your couch for a week ‘cause, [singing] technically I’m homeless!“
No matter how many times I see this, it makes me laugh.
hmmmm. the thread goes on to talk about how people took 9/11 deaths very seriously and mourned for years and still do and it’s wild how that isn’t the case now. i understand what this thread is going for (highlighting the comparative apathy in the face of many many many covid deaths) but i feel like there’s…. a piece missing. can you really talk about post-9/11 mourning without talking about the way 9/11 mythos and ‘never forget’ has been explicitly created, maintained, and weaponized to justify hundreds of thousands more deaths in the name of imperialism? otherwise it runs the risk of framing that post-9/11 culture as the logical and emotionally normal response in order to contrast it with covid response. i get the intention but i feel like that piece is missing from that analysis
I think I’ve posted this before, but it’s a THING now.
In the game I DM, I ended up making up a recurring merchant NPC just for shits and giggles - a Kobold who calls himself Dumas and goes around selling strange magical/enchanted items which are… not as they seem. His prices are enticing, but the items have strange properties, and it’s a gamble to see if your investment is worth it.
My players love him so much they have taken to Sending him every time they want something new, and all of their party funds end up going to this little creature, who is delighted, and is now probably the richest bastard in all of Barovia. (Yes, this is in Curse of Strahd…. look, humor needs to be a part of EVERY game imo, even the Gothiest of them all.)
@thechekhov I wonder does Dumas have a cousin or weird half-sibling? Does he have a clan of dodgy merchants? I love this idea. I need to know more!!
DPC and DPL. Dead People’s Clothes and Dead People’s Leather.
Their toys, their paintings of half naked, naked, screwing men. The statues. The leather. The sling. The posters. The … all of it.
We’d literally Straighten homes. Depending. Some families knew and were fine. Or more ok. But pictures of other guys on phones was the least of it.
I have… leather that’s been passed through three or four men who’ve died before getting to me. They’re the heirlooms now, passed down chosen families.
Sometimes there were crews. We’d show up as soon as possible, as a unit. We’d hit the bedrooms first. Clear out closets, under beds, bedsides. We’d donate, throw out, take mementos. Pass on. Secret lives and secret, us only treasures.
Then we’d leave. For some family’s you never talked about it. They never knew. It was better all around.
I have vests, gloves. A belt. Arm bands. Paintings. T-shirts. Photos, undeveloped film that’d I’m still somewhat terrified to try to get developed (lol). We live on in the living rooms of others.
This is. A very important message for the younger generations of queers.
We still have so much father to go, but y'all. Don’t let our past be forgotten.
This is my tribe. Many of us in our home countries live off selling handmade goods, especially the mochilas. Weaving is an important Wayuú tradition. Every pattern and assortment of colors tells a unique story, and it’s important to our cultural identity. And right now with the crises in Venezuela and Colombia, a lot of us are struggling financially. Please always purchase directly from indigenous communities!
