speaking of peeing the bed it’s been long enough that i can tell this story publicly. in high school i went to a party at some house with no adults, as you sometimes would, and at the end of the night like 10 people all clonked out together in the same bed. fully clothed, one of those teenage moments where you’re like wow heehee how rule-breaking, because sure a lot of our parents wouldn’t like us sleeping in a bed with a bunch of other teenagers and no adult supervision blah blah. fond memories. anyway.
i’m an extremely light sleeper, so i barely slept, and sometime around 6 am, i woke up to a girl totally panicking, very quietly, because she peed the bed in her sleep. and listen. this wasn’t a group of mean kids by any measure. but there’s no level of kindness or understanding in the world that will make peeing the bed when you’re 17, surrounded by people you only sort of know, a gentle blow.
so i sat up and she was like “oh my god” and I signaled at her to be absolutely silent and I said I’d be right back. And I crawled over everyone and out of the bed like a stupid cat.
and the thing is, by senior year i wasn’t getting bullied much anymore. i was generally pretty well liked by my peers, but, if this makes sense, people still didn’t always expect very much from me. i was still figuring out how to mask (autistic) and i still often said or did something that made everyone remember i’m weird and they’d just be like “well. that’s story for you. i guess.” and for the most part i’d become pretty secure in that.
so what i’m saying is i had nothing to lose and this girl had everything to lose.
so i went downstairs and i made tomato soup. and by “made” i mean i put a whole can of tomato soup in a too-small mug and microwaved it until it was lukewarm so as to be convincingly “made” but not so hot to burn someone.
and then i walked back upstairs, and no longer like a cat, i clumsily “attempted” to crawl back into bed, loudly lost my balance, and spilled tomato soup all over the girl and her lap and several other people’s laps and heads and the mattress.
everyone woke up confused and anguished and i was like, “oh my god, I’m so sorry. I just got really hungry and it’s all i could find.”
and everyone immediately accepted with absolutely no further questions that I would go downstairs, make tomato soup at 6 am,and bring it back to bed. everyone just begrudgingly climbed onto the floor and went back to sleep while I put the bedding right into the laundry.
i don’t even know this girl’s name. i only remembered this story recently because i’m in my hometown for a few months and recently a high school acquaintance said, “hey. do you remember spilling soup on everyone after prom? why did you do that?” and for a moment i genuinely did not and i stared at them completely dumbfounded while the memory loaded and then i started laughing too hard to answer for 2 minutes.
the best part is i can tell this story, and even if it reaches the people who were there, none of them will know which one of them peed the bed. thanks to tomato soup.
people keep pointing out how bewildering this must have been from her point of view and it’s making me laugh to tears. i never considered it. i had such a solid plan in my head. i went downstairs to find something to dump on the bed and when i saw the tomato soup i knew it was perfect because it has a distinct smell that would cover anything else and a color which would do the same.
i was so focused on my mission that in the 14 years since i’ve never once considered what it must have been like for her to decide to trust me because she had no other options, sit there in anguish for three minutes, and then watch me walk back into the room and dump soup on everyone.
How is bnha anime of the decade…… they aren’t even anime of the hour of the minute of the second
The notes on this post were so toxic that staff just axed em
1969………
Yes, when the original post is deleted from the server (not just the blog, but the Tumblr servers), there is no root post for notes to be added onto, and also no root post for time to be counted from, so it starts from zero. Most computer operating systems use Unix, which was launched in 1971 with t.he epoch date of midnight on January 1, 1970 as 1. Therefore zero is one second behind that date: December 31, 1969. Also, very unfortunately, this also means nobody except you and anyone you reblog it to will see this explanation, as you cannot open the notes to see comments when there are no notes.
I seriously do not get how people don’t understand this. The absolute dependence so many have with AI, so quickly, is utterly baffling. They’ve completely given up all thought, all pursuit, all effort because it’s the Cool New Thing.
We will NEVER be able to look at content online any more without thinking “Is this AI?”.
From funny voices and videos of famous people playing CoD, to fake smear campaigns, product placements and scams using those very same voices and faces.
How about academics? Why bother writing a paper on a subject when AI can do it for you? Teachers not bothering to create course work because it’s easier to have an AI plan a lesson for you. Doesn’t matter if the information is incorrect because the person checking the work isn’t real! It’s yet another AI, working off of the same bungled data that yours spewed information from.
People are giving up the very idea of THINKING, of CREATIVITY and CONNECTION to a machine purely for the sake of convenience.
Tech-bros stopped reinventing the train for once, instead they created The Torment Nexus
We all thought it was going to be some over the top, horrid machine of endless pointed blades. It’s not. It’s a recursive river of information, slowly poisoning itself on it’s own bad data while people unknowingly or without care, drink from it deeply.
People will suffer, knowledge will be lost and those terrible few will use it to obscure their crimes more so than they already do.
Don’t shoot! I’m friendly!: Prove you’re not a bot
AI dismemberment: Disable algorithm settings
Friends?: Gained a mutual
I recognize you: Follow someone you know from r/Tumblr
MY EYES!: Change the site palette
Great Idea: Reblog a post
They love me: Have a post reblogged
Oh boy oh boy you’re gonna get a Rare achievement for this one
Containment Breach
I’ve been inundated with over 120 new followers in the last 5 hours. I haven’t been able to even check if I have any pornbots. I’m tired and need to go to bed. I’ll clean up this mess tomorrow.
This is cool to look at, though. I’m studying some data-science adjacent fields so things like this are fascinating to me.
I’ve been told I should submit this to world-heritage-posts. Just to make it clear what happened to me, here’s a screenshot of my notifications activity in the last 24 hours.
For additional context, I’ve only been here 4 days.
At his point, I’ve been here 5 days and this post has 85k+ notes. My notifications have recovered to the point that sometimes they’re empty so I’d say the breach has been recontained and now I just need to deal with the cleanup process.
I figure it might be interesting to show just what this experience has been like.
This is my notification history over the last week. I joined Tumblr Saturday June 17th, 2023 around 12pm so the actual data starts half way through the chart. My follower count has grown at a roughly equal pace.
Overall, I enjoyed the whole thing once the shock died down. I was just surprised this was the post that would gain any traction at all. I expected the chicken posts would be the first ones to reach triple digits and only several months later. But I’ve enjoyed reading peoples’ reactions and chatting with folks here.
I’ll close out by sharing some other achievements I’ve gotten since:
It’s free to give: Like a post
It’s great to receive: Have a post be liked
This calls for a specialist: Install a third-party app
CONTAINMENT BREACH: Have a post spread across Tumblr
Fallout: Have at least three posts reach 500 notes during a containment breach
Blessings(?) of the gods: Have a post reblogged by a member of Tumblr staff
At this point, it’s all white noise: Open your notifications when it’s at 99+ and receive 99+ notifications in less than a second
And blocked: Receive hate mail
Also blocked: Receive a creepy DM
To the scrapyard with you!: Report a pornbot
Shiny scrap: Report a male pornbot
Maybe you should have thought ahead: Use the Mass Post Editor to add a tag to 20 posts
Next time, proofread before you post: Use the Mass Post Editor to edit a tag on 20 posts
Wild creature at the zoo: Find a heritage post using the search engine
It’s raining cats and cats!: Receive 30 cat pictures
True human experience: Receive a message that makes you feel genuinely loved
And with this, I’m going to call this chapter of the Saga of Containment Breach closed
You are going to have a 100k notes post in your first week here. You are really speedrunning Tumblr.
♩♫♩Guess what happened?
♩♫♩Guess what happened?
♩♫♫♩And you know what that means!
My Tumblr childhood lasted a day and a half.
I’ve been here a month now which means this is the last day I can see all my activity data.
As you can see, activity on my blog has greatly stabilized. I’m definitely getting greater than average traffic (1,000+ notifications per day) but I’m getting notifications from other posts, not just this one.
New Achievements:
Poet: Get reblogged by Haiku-bot
Free Speech for $7.99: Obtain a blue or rainbow important internet checkmarks badge
True Breach: Have one of your posts appear outside Tumblr
Caught in the Blast: Be part of, but not the creator of, a blog chain that appears outside Tumblr
There and Back Again: Find one of your posts on the blog of someone you follow who didn’t reblog it from you.
Hot topic: Get a post on the first page of Top posts of a trending topic
I don’t remember posting this: Schedule a post to come out at least two weeks into the future
Wild creature in the wild: Find a heritage post through someone you follow
Glitch in the Matrix: Report a bug
Rage at the gods: Make a post to staff
Peer-pressured: Let a discussion on Tumblr influence something you do in real-life
Can’t believe I forgot this one:
Destroy the Tories: Participate in Out-of-Touch Thursday
It’s been a year since I made this post.
New Achievements:
Webbed Site: Make a post that breaks the site in any way
Bug Squisher: Make an in-depth post about a bug on Tumblr and then see the bug resolved
Critical Mass: Make a reblog chain so long that the site becomes unresponsive when you try to reblog it
Perfect Miss: Have over 2,000 followers and then make a post that gets 0 notes for at least a month.
Idiot: Get blocked
Now Sleep in It: Make a promise you didn’t want to keep and then have to follow through on it
Ive already made this post 3 times but the cutest thing ever is adding mutuals on instagram and seeing how normal everyone is
Mutuals on tumblr: i NEED to be bisected by an anarchist punk lesbian werewolf TONIGHT or i will kill myself
Same mutuals on instagram: Wow, it was a crazy weekend hiking with my friends 🌄 and then celebrating my little brother’s 11th birthday! 7th grade will be wonderful for you little man 🤘
According to color theory, brown has more positive connotations than negative. Brown is associated with nature, stability, and warmth. Also a rich neutral tone goes well with most decor.
MY EX’S BROTHER KILLED HIMSELF THREE WEEKS AGO and saying “my ex’s brother” is kind of shitty of me i think. but i also can’t say “my friend” because we weren’t friends, and i can’t say “my friend’s brother” because now that we’re exes we’re not really friends, and also there’s a difference between “friends” and “grew up in the church together” and that’s a lot to say to someone who doesn’t have the whole picture. but it’s better to include “ex” in there somewhere, because when people hear “ex” they like to assign some bitterness to it, and it’s kind of refreshing to hear “do not meet him for coffee who cares if he’s grieving he’s an ex for a reason” instead of the run-of-the-mill scrambling for something polite and respectful to say. and then when i do meet him for coffee and his hair’s grown out again to where i once told him i like it and he tells me about his next tattoo and that he’s saving up for another motorcycle and apologizes for something he barely did two years ago and tells me that he’s single again, i can joke around with my best friend about how he still wants me if his instagram likes have anything to say about it, and i don’t have to think about how tired he looks or that, like me, he hasn’t said a word about God in six years. i don’t have to sit in the church i haven’t sat in since high school and wonder if this is the funeral—sorry, celebration of life for someone who didn’t even want to be here—my ex’s brother would have wanted. i don’t have to watch the back of my ex’s head and wonder how he can stand any of this because nobody here will shut the fuck up about God. i don’t have to sit in the back of the congregation and selfishly think WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD for three hours. and usually my purse is relatively neat but right now it’s stuffed full with tissues and waterproof mascara and packets of wildflower seeds and i wonder if my ex’s brother really did like planting wildflowers or if they just told us that so we’d spread them.
later that week when i spend the night at my sister’s she tells me the exchange student she brought home for thanksgiving a few years ago was in an accident. i want to apologize because ever since i was a child i’ve felt like death follows me around somehow. his instagram says he was doing what he loved and he’s with God now. i hug my sister while she cries and i think WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD. in a few days i will text her at midnight because i had a dream that i don’t necessarily remember but i do remember wishing she was still alive. and i won’t tell her that but i’ll ask her what she’s wearing to the bridal shower and she’ll say the same thing she wore to the funeral because she doesn’t have anything else, and i’ll do that too since we were asked not to wear black and the blue i wore is much more suited to a happy occasion anyway. the brides will make a toast to loved ones lost while i’m wearing the same dress i wore to celebrate the life of a dead boy and my grandmother will pray to bless the union and i’ll arrange flowers and play little games with the women in my family and all i can think is WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD.
whenever i tell people my cousin drowned they always ask if he’s okay and that always surprises me because i feel like the word drowned has a finality to it; it’s an end result, and if he was okay i would have said almost drowned but i didn’t. and sometimes when i talk about someone in the past tense people will say what do you mean was? is he not your uncle anymore? as if the concept of death is so far-fetched and archaic that it only happens to the elderly and the extremely unlucky and people on tv. these are the same people who keep talking about Heaven and eternal life and how death is just the beginning and nobody’s really gone and i smile politely but i want to grab them by the shoulders and shake them and say fuck you. MY EX’S BROTHER KILLED HIMSELF THREE WEEKS AGO and i am drawing pictures and watching a trashy reality show when one of the contestants announces his early departure because his sister has died.
why do you write so much about death? what is everyone else writing about if not death? a few years ago i found out people think i’m obsessed with the idea of dying. i am not. i didn’t know there were people out there who have not experienced tragedy at all. i say tragedy and people think it just means loss. i am not talking about old men passing peacefully in their sleep. i am talking about a drowned fourteen year old and a fiancé whose heart suddenly gave out and a new grandfather t-boned by a drunk driver. these are too unrealistic for fiction. you write too much about death. i am not afraid of death and i’m not sure if that’s leftover from teenage suicidal tendencies or the result of years of exposure but i am afraid that i will die unexpectedly and nobody will know who to tell and so none of the right people will find out. and then the only people at my funeral will be family members who keep talking about God and Heaven and eternal life and give out packets of wildflower seeds, and i will watch from inside my casket even though i wanted to be cremated and i’ll scream EVERYONE SHUT UP ABOUT GOD until i can almost feel my throat but nobody will hear me because i am dead and no longer have a throat. my friends will keep texting me and wonder if i’m angry with them.
my ex’s brother killed himself three weeks ago. after the funeral i take a day off of work to sit in my kitchen and think WHEN I DIE I HOPE NOBODY TALKS ABOUT GOD.
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