For those who don’t contain a vast knowledge of Green Day lore like myself, I don’t think it is hitting just how much of a “fuck you” the NFL is giving djt/the white house.
This is a band that is:
Made entirely of openly bisexual/queer men
Made entirely of men who are vocal about being raised by single mothers on welfare
One of their members was adopted and raised by a Black woman and has said he “understands how his mother could hate ‘the white man’ and love him with her whole soul.”
Were the first band to say, “No Trump, No KKK, No Fascist/MAGA U.S.A.” on live television without ANY warning.
Literally released a song last year called, “The American Dream Is Killing Me”
Only hires ALL FEMALE bands to open for them to address inequality in the music industry
OPENLY tells trump supporters they are not welcome at their concerts.
Anyway, Enjoy Feb. 8th Magats! You’re gonna hate it. :)
A fun thing about fiction with large casts of characters is that sometimes you’ll have a Spicy Bananas moment where every single character has an identical yet wildly atypical experience of some very mundane thing, and slowly you realise that the author isn’t Making A Point, they just think that’s normal.
I love my cats very dearly, but I think one lesser-spoken fact must be emphasised to anyone who does not have a cat and thinks they want one:
It’s not about the risk of claws to your inanimate items like curtains and sofas.
It’s not about the regular chore of litterbox cleaning.
It’s not even about their love of bringing you nearly dead things and leaving them in strange places.
The thing that must be emphasised about getting a cat is that your cat will have a frankly unholy genius for pinpoint targeting your most tender and vulnerable spot with somehow double their entire weight on one delicate little paw.
This may be your left tit, your favourite bollock, that really sharp bruise you just got at roller-derby – whatever it is, your cat CAN and WILL step on it with stunning precision.
