"Steve Irwin of Los Espookies" gets me every time.

image id : cardboard poster reading "why are you so sick ae other cunt's genders as if it's any yer business? Sitting up at night pure foamin at the mouth hinkin aboot other folks' genitals like a fucking weirdo"

You write all this and don't even say the fucking word woman and then in the tags you say "We support sex workers" You're just as fucking bad as everyone else.

oh, i see you and a few people like you are struggling with this content. no worries. let's try to work through this together.

If you put on your good reading eyes and big thinking cap, try to go back over the post and see if i do or do not use the word "woman" or "women." (HINT: I might also use man). then use these Key Reading Notes to guide your interpretation:

- do you think it is possible that any person can experience the results of a puritanical culture that degrades and dehumanizes normal human behavior? (THINK: Taylor Lautner was 15 when grown adults begged him to be their husband, their hands shaking, tears in their eyes. Did he have to use the word "woman" in his experience?

- how can society trap sex workers in a horrible loop of both scrutinizing their experience while also demanding excellent performance? how is a video of someone in ropes only okay if it is selling perfume or a car? why are artists on this site blocked by the porn ban, but none of the bots are? what conditions are we creating for victims to come forward? how are we preventing abuse in the industry that is obviously making a few specific people a lot of money? (KEY NOTE: is it only women in porn? is there a reason that when you picture pornography, you assume only women must be present? it's a visible connection to your misogyny: there is often also a man in the scene. that man is also a sex worker. why might it be that you were picturing the woman on her knees?)

- who are you fighting here? (NOTE: with your hands up, flinching, you try to devour the world because the anger in your heart burns louder than the kindness. this will annihilate you. you sit and you scream and it makes no difference. you throw your hands against the wall and it changes nothing. where is the word woman? here, right here, here you go: woman. woman. woman. was it worth it? does it help? does it save any one person? elicit any real response? make that wretched white heart of yours burn a little lower?

- when was the last time you actually reached out and helped a stranger? the last time you actually invested effort in your community? the last time you looked someone in the eyes and said - oh shit. we are both people. and we both deserve our humanity.

Soapbox time, sorry to interrupt but it’s something I feel strongly about.

I LOVE birds. Adore them. Obsessed with them. I see a vulture on the side of the road and I squeal because they’re so COOL. I plant honeysuckle outside my window to watch hummingbirds. I spend hours looking at bird photos for this blog. In some circles my name is “Auntie Birdie” and in others “Bird Lady.”

And I am strongly against parrots as pets… even though I own one.

She is a rescue, whose previous owners thought it would be fun and cute. When she was a baby, they adored her. Then she started to grow up, and so did her demands. They couldn’t keep up with having jobs and coming home to a screaming toddler every day, knowing that this was the next 40+ years.

So now I own her, but honestly she owns me. I lament every day that she wasn’t born in the wild with a flock. I am twisted into a pretzel trying to keep her engaged and happy, and it’s a full-time job, and it’s never enough. I love her with every beat of my heart, but I would still rather see her living in the wild where she belongs.

There are some days when she’s using her “oh no I’m lost my flock isn’t here” scream intended to travel through the rainforest… Inside my home… When I’m just a room away… I just think about the average person who wants a parrot, and I wish they knew.

They aren’t pets. They aren’t cute little cuddle things that talk. They aren’t the funny, silly things on YouTube.

They are wild animals that are meant to be flying free and foraging in trees and making nests and screaming as loud as they want as much as they want.

I wholly recognize that there are lots of people like me who dedicate much of their life, time, energy, and money to keeping their parrot happy.

But I also know, for a fact, how many parrots suffer. How many rip out their feathers from anxiety and depression and from being unable to cope with the stress of captivity; instead of a flock and an entire forest or plains or mountain, they now depend on you, in your home.

How many parrots are snatched from the wild to be sold as pets. To be forced to live and breed in small cages so their young can be sold as pets.

How many breeders see them as high value items, a market good. There are breeding mills. There are parrots kept in a garage for the sole purpose of breeding. There are parrots who don’t get to fly, to play, to run around.

So if you really want a parrot, ask yourself this.

Are you ready to have a toddler for the rest of your life? Are you ready to be a parent whose child never grows up, never matures? Are you ready to have a pet that you can’t easily board when you go on vacation?

Are you ready to try to be a substitute for an entire flock, to be a substitute for the wonders of the natural world?

There are so many that are suffering. So many surrendered to rescues. Too many. Way, way too many.

Please think VERY CAREFULLY before buying a parrot, and then please still don’t do it.