Happy Nine Year Anniversary To Me For My Brain Surgery!

happy nine year anniversary to me for my brain surgery!

nine years ago today, i went into surgery to have part of my brain removed to hopefully stop my seizures. sadly, it didnt work and they came back again a few years later.

but those few years were i was seizure free, finally able to stop taking years after almost 5-6 years, was such a freeing and joyful feeling that im so grateful i was able to experience <3

Disney's Robbin Hood marries Maid Marian at the end of the film. Since marriage between commoners and aristocracy were illegal in the time period, we can infer then that Disney's Robbin Hood uses the cannon from Richard Grafton's 16th century Chronicle at Large or latter, when Robbin Hood goes from a yeoman to a member of the aristocracy, either the Earl of Huntingdon, or the later lord Locksley.

This fox is, and always has been, a member of the aristocratic 1% defending his inherited wealth, power and privilege. His vendetta against Prince John and his denouncement of him as a tyrant is personal as Prince John infinged on the rights and privileges of the Nobles, which was illegal, and lead to him taking up arms abd leading a guerilla campaign, and as soon as a Absoulute monarch he personality agrees with returns, he bends the knee in exchangefor a pardon, the restorationon his estates, and a policaly benifical marrage.

Behold the friendly face of Absoulute hereditary power!

In DnD terms, this verson of Robbin Hood is Lawfull Evil, fighting to uphold his own legal power and staiuts against an usurper.

Sad to say it given, he gave me my sexual awakening, but this fox is, and always has been, a fascist.

I mean I'd still fuck both of them but the sex with Rob would be far angrier.

This fox, this guy right here:

He's just a depressed millennial with childhood trauma running a gig economy job. He's not even doing anything particularly illegal, as shown by the only thing Judy (a frighteningly effective cop) can find to charge him with is tax evasion. He's a high functioning borderline genius level guy running street scams due to racial profiling barring access to higher education and better jobs, and once someone gives him an in he proves very very good at solving crimes. He had no ideological stake in this, he's in DnD terms true neutral tending towards chaotic neutral, but he does risk his life to stop and actual fascist coup that was happening hidden behind a facade of public safety (looks at canera), which is something. He's an everyman antihero who sells out for a job with helthcare and/or bunny boobies at the first chance he gets, very relatable.

This Fox, is and always has been, Moray grey.

and he fucking knows it, the sexy beast.

In conclusion, Disney has always been a Conservative company filled with left leaning creators, and Sometimes thier furry kink critique of the current system leaks out and they are at their best when it does.

I feel like any aliens that were prey at some point in evolution would have an odd fear of humans. Mostly cause they look like predators, act a bit like predators, and ARE predators. One perfect example is when we're focused on something like a mosquito that's been bugging us for a long time and we are just done.

Alien: "What. What..?"

Human: *HUNTING down a mosquito it saw*

Alien: ".... yeah I am really uncomfortable...."

Human: *quiet footsteps, pupils dialated, intense focus,*

Alien: *WAR FLASHBACKS*

Human: "Found you." *absolutely desimates the mosquito, squashing it into a million pieces as it's guts and various body parts liquidize into blood of the bloodthirsty, now stained on the palm of the human. A living being now reduced to a useless corpse as the human wipes the remains on their pants*

Alien: "I feel like I've just gained trauma."

here are some interesting surnames I have seen on old graves:

*they’re not inherently “weird” or “rare”, they’re just names I noted for possible future use in my writing

so the thing about my family is that we have two ancestors on my dad’s side who were buried in france, where I currently live. one died in the spanish civil war, and one died prior doing…we don’t know what. but he somehow managed to get buried in père lachaise. 

so anyhow, my gran sends me a message like “pls put flowers on ur uncle samuel’s grave because he’s gone over a century with none and it will make the ghost mad if he hasn’t already” because my family spends time in europe but never long enough to go all the way to père lachaise and give ya boy samuel jr. his death rites. so im like “ok gran I can do that” bc im a good grandson and you do not fuck with gran she doesn’t DESERVE THAT 

i figure out which plot he’s on and ask someone specifically where you can find uncle samuel jr. and they tell me where and so I arrive at the junction and. 

HE GONE. 

WHERE DID YOU GO UNCLE SAMUEL. 

*celine dion’s smash hit “my heart will go on” playing in the distance* 

in other words either someone stole my entire great great uncle samuel or he has risen again, ready to party in paris for all of eternity. 

So I just went with my buddy while he got a rib tattoo, and they hurt like a lot, so he’s over there grimacing and being a huge manbaby so I just reach over and grab his hand so he can squeeze it because I’m a good person who helps others

And he’s clinging to my hand like it’s a life preserver and I’m being me and talking about nonsense like Grimace from the McDonalds commercials and how R2D2 is always ready to throw hands, and whatever, and the artist keeps glancing over at me and I’m like do your tattoo bro I’ve got my buddy handled

But then I realize he’s like, looking over because he can’t tell if he’s seeing something or not, and I glance down and I see my rainbow scalemail bracelet, and how I’m talking to my buddy all fondly and I’m like stroking his arm like he’s a wounded animal, and right as it clicks in my head the tattoo artist asks in his most nonchalant voice possible, like intentionally bland, I’m just talking about the weather haha what do you mean voice:

“So, are you guys close?”

And my gay ass is over to the side internally screaming because yeah, I am gay, but like this is just me being a good bro and my buddy is COMPLETELY OBLVIOUS TO WHAT IS HAPPENING BECAUSE HE’S A GARBAGE STRAIGHT PERSON AND HE SAYS

“Yeah of course, that’s why I asked him to come”

SO NOW THE TATTOO ARTIST THINKS HE’S RIGHT AND HE HAS A GAY COUPLE GETTING A TATTOO AND MY BUDDY HAS NO IDEA AND I’M AWKWARDLY SITTING HERE LIKE SHOULD I STOP HOLDING HIS HAND??? SHOULD I CORRECT THIS TATTOO ARTIST??? SHOULD I LET MY BUDDY KNOW??? MY GAY ASS DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE BEING INCORRECTLY ACCUSED OF BEING GAY, WHAT DO YOU DO

So that tattoo artist is like “Cool man, that’s great. Good for you.”

So then my buddy is like can I get some water, and the guy comes back with one bottle of water and my buddy takes a drink and then hands it to me, and I’m like obviously he has to lay down and needs me to hold his water so I just hold it in my hand, but turns out he was offering me water, so he turns to me and is like Colton, drink some water, and I take a drink and my garbage lizard brain is like “You’re drink sharing in front of the tattoo artist, now he KNOWS he’s right”

So we’re talking about tattoos with the artist and I mention that I’m getting a tattoo in September and my buddy is like “Yeah I’m gonna go and hold HIS hand for that one haha” and the tattoo artist FUCKING SAYS “I mean, I should hope so”

I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO

I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO

AND NO ONE ACTUALLY BROUGHT IT UP. I KNEW WHAT THE TATTOO ARTIST WAS THINKING BUT DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING TO CORRECT HIM. NOW WHEN MY BUDDY GOES BACK AND GETS HIS NEXT TATTOO IN THE FUTURE AND I’M NOT THERE HE’S GOING TO GO “OH WHERE’S YOUR BOYFRIEND”