• 19 Posts
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Joined 2 years ago
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Cake day: June 13th, 2023

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  • It has the number of steps it does so that the pressure from the button holding your pants closed is evenly distributed over the fabric (and thread), so that nothing tears or rips. When sewing through cloth more points of attachment is generally better. You might be able to staple a button on without damaging the fabric over time, but it’s probably a lot less comfortable to wear than one sewn on.

    Just attached a button to my pants yesterday, after the factory sewn button gave up.












  • This plus being forced to watch a video of a woman giving birth for us. Also that birth control methods in general, including condoms, aren’t very reliable. Well, guess what happens when you tell teenagers a condom might not even make a difference in preventing pregnancy…

    Absolutely nothing about consent either, so the nastiest shit was said about a teenager who got pregnant from statutory rape (7+ year age difference). LGBT? Absolutely nothing. I think someone might have said something in one of my classes asking if we were going to cover it, and the (gym coach) teacher making loud disgusted noises while laughing and saying no.

    Christ, the 90s and 00s were not great in a lot of ways.


  • The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains. And the smell of rot fills the country. Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.

    There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.

    -John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

    The more things change the more they stay the same.