Me, The Graveyard Shift, To My Poor Evening Shift Coworkers Who Went Out Drinking With Me Then To My

Me, the graveyard shift, to my poor evening shift coworkers who went out drinking with me then to my place after the second bar and didn't start walking home until dawn

Put it like that and it really is a beautiful fever dream

imagine youre a teenager and one day you decide to steal a car because it looks fast and sleek and you want to travel on the road. so you go on a trip in your stolen car and you love it so much that you dedicate your life to the road. you spend your years travelling, visiting new places and picking up hitchhikers, all in the same car you stole, which at this point has become old and run down and needs refurbishing every now and then, but you never replace it because you live in this car now and it's your home. at one point your actual house was demolished and your family members are dead. the people you've hooked up with in your car have broken up with you and gone away. youve changed many times as a person, but your shitty car has stayed the same, the one constant in your hectic life. it's the last one of its model after they stopped manifacturing it: that's how old it is. then one day, your car suddenly breaks down in the middle of the road. you go out to get help and find a lady who weirdly knows all about you. she knows all the places youve been to and the people youve gone there with. as you talk with her more, you begin to realize that, somehow, the soul of your car—the one that's sitting broken outside—has transferred into the body of a human woman. your car is alive and now speaking to you, and she remembers all the moments you two have spent together, every word youve told her when you thought you were alone, every desire and complaint youve expressed to her in the middle of the night. your car is speaking to you, and she tells you that however much you love her, she loves you equally back. that you never really stole her all those years ago because she wanted to travel with you, and she wouldn't change you for anyone else in the world. you speak with your living human car, and you realize that, hey, she's kind of funny actually, and you might be a little bit in love with her, and she might be a little bit in love with you. but the desert you're stuck in is also sentient and evil, so your human car dies in your arms in order for her soul to transfer back into the machine and drive you away. so now you're back on the road with your car the same as always, except now you know she's sentient and maybe has feelings for you, so you sometimes let go of the wheel and let her take you wherever she wants. that's what happened between the doctor and the tardis in that one episode

I guess I can paint stripes of void, that's pretty cool. Not sure what that does though

The 2024 Gender Census is now open!

[ Link to survey ]

The 11th annual international gender census, collecting information about the language we use to refer to ourselves and each other, is now open until 13th June 2024.

It’s short and easy, about 5 minutes probably.

After the survey is closed I’ll process the results and publish a spreadsheet of the data and a report summarising the main findings. Then anyone can use them for academic or business purposes, self-advocacy, tracking the popularity of language over time, and just feeling like we’re part of a huge and diverse community.

If you think you might have friends and followers who’d be interested, please do reblog this blog post, and share the survey URL by email or at AFK social groups or on other social networks. Every share is extremely helpful - it’s what helped us get 40,000 responses last year.

Survey URL: https://survey.gendercensus.com

The survey is open to anyone anywhere who speaks English and feels that the gender binary doesn’t fully describe their experience of themselves and their gender(s) or lack thereof.

For the curious, you can also spy on some graphs and demographic data for the incoming responses here.

Thank you so much!

[ Link to survey ]

Image credit: Malachite and rhodochrosite.

I wish octopus could learn how to read. They could be pen pals with middle schoolers.