Little Monsta

The Stop Killing Games movement has officially backed the proposed California bill focused on protecting players when online games are shut down. > Publishers must provide an offline mode or a way to keep the game playable after server shutdown. > If this is not possible, players should receive a full refund. > The goal is to protect digital ownership and game preservation. This proposal follows growing concerns over games becoming completely inaccessible once support ends, especially after shutdowns like The Crew. Most gamers think that if players pay for a game, it should remain playable or be fairly compensated.

ALLOWING POLITICIANS TO VOTE ON TERM LIMITS IS INSANE...LET'S PUT IT ON THE BALLOT AND LET THE VOTERS DECIDE!

When they say “ADHD gets better with age” what they really mean is “Men might present less hyper-actively.” They forget to say “Women go through a huge hormonal shift (ahem, Peri/Meno) and they lose their sh*t and their ADHD (which might not even be diagnosed yet) becomes untenable.” Glad I can correct that for you. You’re not weird or alone. I get it. XO, Dr. Jen

If you can't even stay in your lane, why are you driving a school bus?

We are GIVING AWAY a WOOLHAVEN PC with the help of @AftershockpcAU To celebrate the release of our first expansion! ❄️ ❤️ Like 🔄Retweet 👤Be following us for a chance to win!

Fuck ICE and tax billionaires

I know this is gonna piss so many people off but there is a popular saying on the Chinese internet says "Even a top tier man is just an average woman". Someone wrote "A man who doesn't smoke, doesn't cheat, doesn't drink, doesn't gamble, no criminal records, stable job, cooks, cleans, emotionally stable, kind to his family is a kind of man that's so rare, but honestly every one of my female friends meets that standards and even more, so yeah even the best man is just an average woman" omg Shakespeare could never!!!😭😭

When I was 15 years old I was obsessed with boy bands I hadn’t kissed a boy I slept with a stuffed animal My fave activity was hanging out at the mall I crushed on Leonardo DiCaprio Why? Because I was a child 15 year olds are children Nothing anyone says will change that.

JD's family has spent $35M on vacations. Kash Patel used a $60M FBI jet to go on a date. Trump spent $98M to golf for 24% of the days of this term. All our tax dollars. But you think single moms getting $6 a day for SNAP is the problem?

You promise?

@TVachaW My husband went through the same thing. I was too sick to drive, so he had to take me. He had to argue with the doctors to get me meds because they wouldn't listen and kept forgetting. He was shocked at how little they did for me.

Yesterday, girlfriend asked me to come into a GPs appointment with her to witness the level of gaslighting she gets from doctors. She reported standard symptoms of sleep apnea, and asked if there were tests for this. He said it’s *impossible* to get sleep apnea if you are under 40 and not clinically obese. Proceeded to say it she almost certainly just has an anxiety disorder (despite no anxiety symptoms during the day). Then proceeded to prescribe her a relatively high dose of SSRIs and insisted she see a psychiatrist. His whole tone throughout was of mild irritation at having to deal with her. It honestly felt like being in some Victorian clinic and witnessing a woman with epilepsy being diagnosed with hysteria or something.

Migraines daily for a month, started getting numbness, weakness and shaking on one side of my body, broke out in red dots everywhere one day. Went to urgent care and was asked if I'm taking antidepressants cause I'm fat and gave me Benadryl. Literally did nothing for me.

Everybody talking about how poor people shouldn’t be able to buy junk food on food stamps.. Well, I don’t think billionaires oughta be able to buy 14-year-olds on private islands.. But here we are

I think children should be allowed to experience cookies even if they are poor

So wait.. - Emiru’s preferred bodyguard was banned by Twitch - Emiru is forced to do the Meet’n’Greet to keep her show - Emiru gets assaulted and the guy is just allowed to walk away Remember when female streamers voiced their concerns and incels blamed Hasan for it???

I'm happy to see my tax dollars going to good use. I'm not diabetic, but it's on us as a community to help each other in time of need, so let's get insulin for those who need it. I'd rather my taxes buy meds for everyone, than buying another yacht for billionaires.

The poor are not there by chance or by blind and cruel fate. Nor, for most of them, is poverty a choice. Yet, there are those who still presume to make this claim, thus revealing their own blindness and cruelty. #DilexiTe

Remember folks, In 2023 President Joe Biden helped release 105 hostages in Gaza. He just simply didn’t make a sick show about it, that’s the difference between leader and the showman.

A message from a Kindergarten teacher: After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old: “My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.” No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.” My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me. When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic. But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe. My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown. And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice. They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer. The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.” As if kindness were a weakness. Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure — a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.” a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.” a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.” Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up. But this last year broke something in me. The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival. I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times. So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998: “Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.” I sat on the floor and cried. No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications. I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced. I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers. So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try. Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

Hey. So, I created this show (before handing it off to an incredibly talented group of writers & animators.) And no one was trying to push anything on viewers. We were just trying to dramatize the full range of human experience, which includes same-sex relationships. That's all.