Rose Thorne(She/Her)

They generally have them on the containment units, and if they’re used elsewhere, on the pipes/machines carrying/using the chemicals.

Now, if they’ve been properly replaced since installation is a completely different question. I’ve seen far too many faded/shredded diamonds on the sides of things.

When I prayed for Jesus to be packin’, this is not what I meant.

Oh well, least I still have Mohammed. Maybe Buddha, too.

Goes to show how well my memory works, I genuinely thought it was supposed to still be a thing in 1 but the official deal fell through until 2.

The official shoes of Sonic, at least during the Adventure era.

Same day, after the event at the school, thankfully, but I was with several fellow graduates when it happened. There was an extremely popular steakhouse we all went to with our families, and every one of us who ordered the signature steak ended up getting food poisoning, and several of us ended up getting caught very suddenly by it.

Days over, no coming back from that. Time for a long shower, fresh clothes, and go back to bed. Probably not sleep, because I’ll be dealing with embarrassment and flashbacks to graduating high school.

My only comfort still remains that I was not alone that day. Several of us got awful cases of food poisoning.

That’s the great/terrible thing about parts of the U.S this time of year! You can do both in the same day! You can watch as the alerts for burn risk due to low humidity and high temperatures pops up alongside the freeze warning for the night.

It’s just the best! I fucking hate it! You stay in layers until the sudden onset of heatstroke. You get to feel like the Mad Hatter is in control of the thermostat, always ready to change layers.

Stepfather. Was the only reason I got my chance to get out before things got really bad, my father finally sat my mother down and threatened to take everything to court if he had to, she could stay in the shit if she wanted, but he was getting me out and getting everything we needed to protect ourselves.

Better now, I like to think. Still working through some of the anger left from that time because it was an unhealthy crutch I leaned on. Had to work through a lot of complexes I didn’t realize I had.

And, in a fucked up way, that time gives me pride in who I am. A poly-pan transwoman, everything that would piss him off to see. I can look at myself in the mirror and be proud, because I had to get past the hate for myself he tried to push into me. It’s another push to keep standing, speaking and fighting for myself and those like me, because no one should have to walk that path and wear this armor.

He was an abusive narcist. I hate throwing the term around, but it’s the only thing that fit his personality and mental condition. It took my mother over 13 years to break free.

Physically, mentally, and emotionally abused his biological son and me, threatened my mother with a firearm, tried to have his debts pushed onto my mother(including his companies bankruptcy). Blamed a lot of it on his pain medication after he hurt his back(even the shit that happened years before then). He is what led to a large part of my family finally breaking.

Last I saw of him, we was sitting alone in a shitty hotel bar with no one to talk to, unemployed, and living in his late mother’s rotting home. He deserved worse. If there was a hell, it would be a paradise against what he deserves in my eyes.

My high school had a rule about the “difficulty” of books you could read. You weren’t supposed to read too high “above your grade”. I assumed this rule was something with the school library and their Accelerated Reader program.

Nope! Tried to give me ISS because I was reading “Screwjack”, which I brought from home. It wasn’t even in class! I was a fucking junior. A high school junior should be able to handle Hunter S. Thompson.

According to them it was “college level” and therefore I shouldn’t be reading it. My father raised absolute hell in that office. Don’t think they tried enforcing that rule again.

They also tried bitching about girls tops until a group of very pissed off redneck fathers had questions about how they were touching the students to measure the width.