Wayne was gay. It was obvious. He was unable to stay in the closet even if he wanted to. To make matters worse, he was also Black. From a bullying standpoint, that was not a great combo. Both Black and white students made fun of him relentlessly. He was ostracized from the only community that may have given him protection. Only us theater kids stuck up for him, but not to significant effect.
Wayne was bullied so much that at one point he finally snapped and attacked his bullies with a lunch tray. I was actually seated in perfect line of sight and just sat there chewing my soggy fries in stunned silence. It didn’t even seem real as I was witnessing it. The image of him wailing on his main bully as the food on his tray flew off is permanently logged into my long term memory.
The bully he attacked had blood all over his face and went straight to the nurse. Other than superficial cuts, he was not injured.
Before the attack, Wayne went to teachers for help. He went to guidance counselors for help. He went to the principals for help.
He did all of the things you were supposed to do. No one helped him. They wagged a finger at the bullies and warned them to stop.
Wayne’s lunch tray melee was the only thing that worked. His bullies stayed far away from him. But a week later Wayne was expelled and the bullies were given no punishment.
So… no.
No one in my school talked about being trans.
Because the only way to survive being openly queer was to bash people with a lunch tray.
Okay first.
Damn.
Second:
We may not have talked about being trans in high school, but everyone I hung out with in college came out as trans within the past three years.
“lesbians can have sex with men bc u can have sex with someone u aren’t attracted to uwu” i mean yeah i didn’t think there was some sort of fucking forcefield preventing me from it the whole point is that i very much do not want to because i’m a lesbian
my brother started calling our cat “doobie brother” which he then lengthened to “dubious brother” and has since morphed into “brother dubious” like he’s some sort of fucked up little monk
brother dubious
“My liege, I’m afraid I have reason to believe your concubine plots against you. Worry not, your eminence, you can still trust me, of course…”
i was talking with a friend and i mentioned the term “pillow princess”, and we started talking about like. opposite terms. what i meant by that was more along the lines of “service top”, but he took that to mean just like, the boy version.
he just started dropping names: blanket boy, duvet dude, mattress man. fitted sheet fucker. boxspring boy. headboard hunk. he just kept GOING
pillow princess looking for matching headboard hunk :3
No no no it’s worse because it’s a hard t at the end. Chat as in cat has a silent t. Chat with a hard t at the end is slang for pussy. It’s “pussy, I farted”. Or in other words ChatGPT is a queef.
Fever is a hilarious immune response. Our bodies tell the disease “hey, wanna see which one of us dies of overheating first? No? Too bad.” and honestly they’re not even the winners a decent chunk of the time but it works often enough that we never evolved it away or anything. Fantastic work.
this reply is killing me
Our bodies adapted the same response to disease that Japanese honeybees use against Japaneae giant hornets: Biologically cook it to death.
The problem is that our bodies aren’t well designed for this, while the bees are, and instead we just cook ourselves instead.
What I’m saying is that colonies of bees are smarter than our biology. Yet another strike against creationism and intelligent design. If any god designed a perfect creature, it was a Japanese bee god. We’re just pale imitations.
Confirmed: Our white blood cells are just worse honeybees. Thanks, science side of tumblr!
