[ID: Meat by Audrey Ferber After another hot summer afternoon of punchball and pots, I opened our screen door and was greeted by a lovely vision. My mother, in a starched half-apron, bent over the broiler. The kitchen was full of the aroma of cooking lamb. She was grilling lamb chops, just for me. I put my arms around her waist and watched as she sprinkled the chops with garlic powder, paprika, and celery salt. She swatted my wrist as I tried to put my finger in the bottom of the pain to touch the hot orangey grease. The table was set for one with a light-colored raffia place mat. Most of my friends were allowed soda only on special occasions, but I had it every night. My mother had already poured my cold ginger ale into a tall, thin glass etched with stars, and had folded my napkin into a triangular shape. “Food should look as good as it tastes,” she said, arranging my chops, mashed potatoes, and peas with a carrot curl for eye appeal on one of our new amoeba-patterned plates. She sat with me as I ate. The fat crackled around the edges of the chop as I cut in with my serrated knife. I knew from watching my friends and my older brother eat that not everyone loved fat the way I did. Secretly, I thought of those people as prissy, the trimmers that spent so much time cutting and discarding, that by the time they got to their meat, it was reduced in size by half and ice cold. Once I was in the flow of eating a lambchop, I didn’t stop. The potatoes were bland. I ate a few forkfuls, just the parts that had absorbed the juices from the lamb. The peas were wrinkled. It was hard for me to get excited about other foods in the presence of meat. After cutting some pieces from the eye of the chop, as few as it took convince my mother I was civilized, I picked the bone up in my hand. No knife was as effective as my incisors for locating the tastiest bits of meat. The lamb was tan and brown and pink and grey, a meat rainbow, and had the feel of wadded flannel against my teeth. Runnels of grease dripped down my fingers. After I had gnawed the bone clean, I tongued the marrow. My mother didn’t approve of this “hands on” eating style in public, but on nights we were alone, she never criticized my manners. “Will you have lamb chops for dinner too?” I asked smiling up at her, the hardened fat around my mouth cracking like paraffin. “Yes. I’ll make a steak for your father, but I prefer lamb.” she told me, confidingly. I knew it. I had sensed my love of lamb was something special between my mother and me, something we shared. Maybe it was because we were women. Maybe it was because we were smart. And there was something else about lamb. It had a winey, almost uric smell that  I connected to love, to dark, grown-up sensuality, and to my period, which I expected to start any minute in the next three or four years. Steak was tough, masculine. My father probably need the blood meat so he’d have enough strength to take the subway and work all day standing on his feet. I turned down my mother’s offer of dessert. Fruit cocktail would have disturbed the salty, garlicky harmony of flavors in my mouth. We sat in silence. I was sated, and could feel her pleasure in my having eaten so well. My fingers left smudges on the chrome strips around the dinette table. Outside, the day had turned to dusk in meaty shades of pink and gray. End ID]

Audrey Ferber, Meat, from Eating Our Hearts Out: Personal Accounts of Women's Relationship to Food, edited by Leslea Newman, The Crossing Press, 1993.

‘You are trying to slap some sense into your ex-boyfriend, while he does not let you sleep.’

仲むつまじショット（ミミは迷惑そう）。正面にまわって撮りたい……。

Cryptocurrencies are a fucking blight.

as requested- my zine about fat and plus size body types from instagram!💖 happy drawing everyone!

I love people with obscure knowledge or useless academic insights. I want to hear your analysis of lighting in Ratatouille. Tell me about the history of soda pop or the references to classical mythology in Macbeth. I want to know about the underlying homoerotic context of that 1930s sci-fi paperback. I think all knowledge is worthwhile knowledge. Explain to me the ecosystems that komodo dragons inhabit. Don't be afraid to learn for the sake of learning.

u kno yes its sad the ever given is free bc funny meme over 😔 but fr shoutout to all the people who probably worked hard as hell day and night to get that boat unstuck. like the guy running the tiny ass excavator and the ppl working on the little boats that had to push the ever given back in position. I bet that was difficult as hell and i hope all of them get paid extra well and maybe even have a littol pizza party or something for their efforts

During the fourteen hours of sleep I’ve had so far today, I had a dream that I was watching the original cut of Black Panther where the movie never left Wakanda but halfway through they realized that they still somehow had to have a Stan Lee cameo so W’Kabi’s introductory scene by the rhinos is him and a bunch of other guys who are guarding the border ushering away this old ass extremely lost white tourist played by Stan Lee holding a map upside down who is like “are you this isn’t the way to South Africa” and W’Kabi’s like “my dude South Africa is south” and that was the white representation in the film 

Glimpses III 🌸 

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今日もお仕事中。

テーブルの上が気になる。

Unlawful assembly has officially been declared at the protest at the precinct on Humboldt in Brooklyn Center, MN, over the murder of Daunte Wright. A dispersal order has been issued to the crowd. Armored trucks with SWAT have arrived at the precinct on Humboldt. Protests will be going all night, and the way it's looking right now, they will be escalated by the police into violence. Please stay vigilant and close to your people. Flashbangs, rubber bullets, and smoke bombs are being used already.

Minnesota Bail Fund

You can call Samatha Vang's office, the house representative for district 40B, at this number: 651-296-3709

If you're arrested, call the NTL Lawyers Guild at: 612-444-2654

The precincts phone number is 763-569-3333

Protestors are currently gathering supplies for the night, so for ppl in the area who can't protest, if you're in a position to, donate masks, jugs of milk, food and water or blankets.

Christians hate when a gay man goes “fuck it, I’ll gladly go to Hell if you want me to so bad” because it takes the edge away from their tools of fear. If they can’t scare you with threats of eternal damnation then one of their main weapons is taken away.

the best way i can think to describe the experience of reading moby dick is you’re in line at the dmv and this guy behind you very loudly says “well who HASN’T had a gay experience” and then proceeds to tell you every detail about his life in between anecdotes about how great sperm is and how ropes work and sometimes he’ll say the most poetic shit you’ve ever heard in your life and them jump RIGHT back into explaining how a whale is a fish because 1) it swims in water and you’re still only like halfway through the dmv line

this is the funniest thread of tweets I’ve ever seen in my entire life