💀 weirdgirl zine 💜

some franitized fun for ye. well, not so much ye… mostly me. 🩷 tonight, we'll be examining the complex connections of the allegorical dante alighieri's inferno, to the biological classification of the bristol stool chart.  this groundbreaking analysis will undoubtedly revolutionize our your relationship with your soul, your shit, and possibly even the shit in your soul. sins, punishments, and the bristol stool chart: limbo (unbaptized/virtuous pagans): type 1 (separate hard lumps) isolated, incomplete, like the separate existence of the virtuous pagans. lust (carnal/sexually immodest): type 2 (lumpy sausage) – chaotic and inconsistent, reflecting the turbulent nature of lust. gluttony (excessively indulgent): type 3 (smooth soft sausage) easily consumed, lacking substance, mirroring the emptiness of excessive indulgence. greed (avaricious/miserly):  type 4 (smooth soft-serve) superficially pleasing but ultimately empty, reflecting the hollow nature of greed. wrath (angry/veng...

sometimes you just gots ta live. i just poured an entire box of cereal straight into my pie hole. all of it fit, nary a cocoa pebble fell out. (well, in my mind’s eye it wasn’t nearly so messy as irl. oops.) twas glorious. who needs a bowl? not me. life's too short for that bullshit. then there's the ultimate plan: set up the beach tent in the grass, load up the c0mp00p0r with binge night movies. create a world right here, right now. it's about making magic in the mundane, because fuck… mundanity? oh fuck spellcheck didn’t correct it. yay me, figured out the noun form huzzah. cereal, movies, a makeshift tent – this is living. it is freedom. it's about embracing the simple pleasures, foregoing the bowl & diving straight into a box of fucking cocoa pebbles. 💜  

this horror show demonstrates that the capacity for secondhand embarrassment is nonexistent. the man created an acrostic poem with my name. an acrostic. poem. what are we, in third grade passing notes? let's examine this crime against language: my name (changed it to jazzlynn since he thought my name was fuckin jazzlyn for half a year and fantasized about me while saying it and things eww eww eww)… so my name surrounded by words like "radiant," “special," "glowing," and "intellectual" "rare," "bodacious," "savage" "alluring," "worshipped," "breathtaking"  "refreshing," "magical," "compassionate".. the visual arrangement is a catastrophe, with turdy lamebert’s words scattered like buckshot across the page. some are crossed out, suggesting even he realized how cringe they were but lacked the commitment to start over on fresh paper. 😂 the fact that "bodaci...

From the Franiverse Wiki, the sacred source of lore and gastric terror. The Assblasting Festival is a core Franiverse blood orgy -- an official holiday. Celebrated annually by mortals, vampires, and Sims-based lifeforms, it is a metaphysical shitshow of digestive depravity. As one of the highest holy blood orgies, it’s a sacred, cursed, and utterly pooptacular event rooted in mass trauma and a metric fuckton of emotional gluten. Think Thanksgiving, but everyone’s dead, and the turkey is alive. The festival originated when Thorne accidentally served a cursed casserole laced with tainted plasma fruit. This infamous dish -- Gelatinous Soul Ambrosia Casserole -- was crafted from expired Makkabakka meats, ghost tears, and litterbox scraps. The result? Mass toilet casualties, soul docking (don’t let the casserole dock souls), and explosive bathroom Jackson Pollocks -- but not smelling like one. 🔪 The Grand Meal (The Last Slaughter) Participants consume spoiled or cursed food, triggerin...

💾 dirty qwerty, #004 a very special episode: never go bitch to Butch 🪬 “bitch” > “Butch” lowercase emotional vent? mid-rant? soft lil “bitch please” to no one in particular congrats, kid. apple thinks you meant to summon your deadish twinnish brother. 🧠 keyboard logic:  b and b: fine  i > u: shady side-switch — real qwerty demons  t > t: solid  c > c: bless  h > h: you’re perfect, never change contextually? a gut punch. yes, my brother is named Butch. and yes, he is a biiiiiiitch. hasn’t said a solid word to me since Blue’s Clues was canon. he’s mom’s flying monkey, perched right up her smelly drama-chimney. and yet — he’s always accusing {different sib} of being “up dad’s ass.” he even once said, “there must be something sexual between them…” …which tells you where his brain lives. cool story, oedipus. so, you bangin mom ig. gross-ass gross. anyway. dude stayed inside mom too long. came out with long nails on fingers and toes, full head of lon...

sometimes, creeps come at you quick. If you really wanna engage, just take it easy: like this…  “creep is crushing on you” creep: Can I jack off for you? qu33ni3: Babygirl, there's not enough money in the world. Sometimes people are cool, and you can make them laugh. onepieceboy: hey mama qu33ni3: Hello son. onepieceboy: do you fw one piece qu33ni3: no but I might fw little boys who fw one piece There are nice people out there, truly there are. When you find them, appreciate their hidden gem qualities - if only for a nice little chat. :) qu33ni3: I mean they. I didn't mean to assume Smokey's gender. smokeyzdad: You should see the movie it's really interesting smokeyzdad And thank you smokeyzdad: But yea he's a boy qu33ni3: I have a big 15lb bunny named Iggie. She's a bitch. smokeyzdad: lol damn smokeyzdad: Why haha qu33ni3: Because she's got a steaming turd where her heart should be. But sometimes you just need to be tough…  el abreviador: Wyd qu33ni3: Watch...

I'm a fucking freak, okay? My best friend keeps lube in his car for a good goddamned reason.  I absolutely hate many humans - but the ones I love have all kinds of crotch shapes: penii, vaginae, everything in between, cool-ass prosthetics, plastic lumps like barbie or ken, or even nothing. They fuck. We all fuck, mmkay. Even asexuals have intimate (be they sexy or be they platonic) things they like or don’t like. Intimacy. So let's be real about sex. When is something TMI? I am sex positive. I am good with whatever the fuck gender you are or aren’t, idc whatever the hell you’re attracted to, and whatever the shit you (and all consenting adult human partners) want to do to and/or with and/or for each other. Literally. Piss, shit, vom, and bleed on each other. Pretend to be chickens r8ping cows felching aliens & figging fetuses, like an interspecies erotica CNC LARP thing. Pop zits and use it as massage lotion, sex lube or anal/genital flavor toppings. Pull a narsty Steve Jo...

tarot card: five of pentacles -- hardship, stress, but also resilience and survival. happy happy turkey days with my beloved oldies was stressful buuutttttt comforting. phyl’s diva energy was high. she’s not a diva in the classic way. phyllis is more of a baby grump. you can tell when she gets big mad -- little foot stomp, sideways butt, and that look like “you touched me without clearance.” it’s dramatic, buuutttttt earned. date/context: november; thanksgiving + big bun mood. paid off nearly $600 in late bills, which feels like a weird victory. moving is pending… some days and anxiety is high -- even dreams of it into my sleep. still eating mushroom mac n cheese. planning a huge self-care sleep before the chaos unfurls.

living with x-linked dominant erythropoietic protoporphyria (yeah, try saying that five times fast) is a daily gamble — and spoiler alert: it’s usually a crapshoot. like where crap shoots out of me. some days i wake up, pee, poop, check my emails, eat some cold leftovers like a boss. no pain, no nausea, no drama. i jump straight into writing with my caffeine on standby. those days feel like winning the lottery because, honestly, most days don’t. other days? it’s like my body gets hijacked by the devil’s own rollercoaster. a random stressor or a dumb medication change triggers an attack that slams me into pain city — nausea, brain fog, all the neurological weirdness included. productivity? forget it. i’m lucky if i can just manage the pain, call my doc, and lean on my people without losing my shit. the worst part: people think i’m lying or exaggerating because this condition is rare and invisible. screw that noise. i’m not here to explain myself to skeptics. i survive in the tiny victor...

as a sim living on a luxurious island, i'm always looking for new ways to enjoy my time here. that's why i decided to pursue a career as a sims 4 island living conservationist. not only is it a challenging and rewarding career, but it also allows me to do my part in protecting the environment and ensuring that this beautiful island stays this way! one of the things i love most about being a conservationist is protecting endangered species & their habitats. but it's not all work and no play here on the island. when i'm not busy saving the planet, i love to spend my time indulging in some of the simpler pleasures in life. i’m glad i learned how to grow pineapples and coconuts in sims 4! of course, no trip to the island would be complete without a little fishing. and lucky for me, i know all the best fishing spots in sims 4 island living. from the secluded coves where the water is crystal clear and the fish are plentiful, to the bustling harbors where you can catch a g...

in the tub i killed a spider. it reminded me of tyler. watched it struggle, watched it writhe; just another sacrifice. as he weeps about his pain, he'll keep stabbing til l'm drained; like a predatory bleeder, victim camouflages reaper. poured shampoo, watched it drown, spider struggled, flush it down;   it's me in my innocence,   trapped in tyler's cold pretense. to tyler, i'm that spider there; to spider, i'm its worst nightmare; i'm a predator yet prey, shifting roles like night to day. think of tyler, not the spider, one so cruel yet i’m no kinder; drained my heart, he played for free with my spider misery.

topaz and bloodstone are what any collection needs for balancing chakras while promoting friendship vibes! at 8 mohs, topaz is harder than trying to find parking… anywhere in california. it's perfect for helping peeps connect & be social. when you mix a topaz with peridot, you're getting protective properties with a strength that screams "i survived florida & still have standards" vibes. combine this gorgeous stone with garnet & you're creating grounding energy that's 100% bad bitch material. bloodstone and topaz bracelets with intricate gold accents. rich colors for a luxurious aesthetic. {bracelets: 30-40 tcw, bloodstone bracelet by qu33ni3, topaz bracelets by candy elle’s grandma} bloodstone radiates protection power while keeping you grounded & connected to earth! mix this spiritual talisman with ruby & you're getting grounding qualities that are bristol 1 thick. pair with aquamarine & you're bridging earth & water energ...

so peeps be wondering what is sea willow exactly? it’s a form of black coral, not a willow at all, but it’s shiny and durable. sea willow jewelry making and sea willow crafts are often used from this stunning natural badass. sea willow uses in jewelry include things like this sweet gold bead here. it has typical sea willow properties, like the striated shimmer. unique natural jewelry materials will often possess little defects, which is another way to tell what’s real. I’m not sure about this one, but I’ve got a few specimens in my shop soon. sea willows tend to be pricy, but I can hook you up. also, ik peeps don’t often discuss sustainable jewelry making with sea willow, but honestly it’s so important. this coral is rare and grows in these cool branch structures. often the natural black form is used as-is in ocean-inspired jewelry making, but sometimes they lighten the sea willow to a gold shade like my big weird beady friend here. whatever shade you crave, make sure that shit’s ethic...

i’m not “talking to” anyone right now. that phrasing’s dumb.  there was someone i liked, we saw each other sometimes—turns out he had a couple side quests going, so whatever.  i’m actually more talkative when i don’t care; when i do, i get quiet.  i think it’s hot when people can be vulnerable—any gender. it’s just part of being real with someone you trust.

treat your vape like the precious cargo it is! 💖 daily: quick wipe-down.  think of it as a daily sponge bath for your vape. ✨ weekly: deep clean.  give it a proper spa day! 🧽 monthly: component check.  make sure all its little vape parts are happy.🔎 yearly: replace parts or the whole device.  don't let it get all crusty!🔄 immediate action: fix broken parts or replace device asap!  a broken vape is a sad vape. 🛠️

we’ve also got choadclown, a dude who doesn’t know shit about dick except his own weird. he started immediately being gross with me… so I was gross right on back. He didn’t love it i guess, but my story is that he had so much “fun” that he was “finished.” 🥰 choadclown: Take a guess what I'm doing right now if you can guess it meee: Taking a monster dump. choadclown: Nope I'm trying to shoot a monster load meee: Do you ever use blood as lube? choadclown: Nope you meee: Because I honestly wouldn't mind if you'd bleed a little meee: Like when I peg you and stuff meee: Have you ever had a rectal prolapse? meee: I like searching for it in porn cuz it is so hot when guys get one meee: Are you okay with having your throat fukkkkkked with a spike dildo? meee: I could spit roast you and take pixxxxx meee: hey new friend, where'd ya go? **(This person has unmatched you)** **(Delete)**

I was in the zone—balanced, kicking, about to ride clean—and then… my ancient manderpants surrendered to Neptune. Just—gone. Slipped off mid-pool and floated like the ghost of my dignity. Katelyn laughed so hard she choked on her water bottle. I was mortified. These manderpants were historic—had mildew colonies once. Incidentally: these are the manderpants that ALWAYS FALL DOWN. I guess they chose this moment to finally transcend. Silver lining… I finally had to wear the newer pair that doesn’t slouch or slide. And guess what? My ride improved. Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe the Universe needed me to let go of moldy ass-drapes to level up spiritually. Surfing is humbling. Sometimes your pants fall off. Sometimes you gain gnarl. Sometimes both in the same five minutes!

my mother rewrote history until she was safe and i was gone. when i saw her using my brothers kids (my nieces & her grandchildren) as pawns with me, keeping me distant, she flatly refused to go to therapy with me. my family’s disownment was painful, still stings. but it also opened doors i never knew existed. doors inside of myself, and doors around the world. i've found my tiny scattered chosen family — people who support and celebrate me.  i'm sharing myself with the world, without reservation. i'm filling up my world with those who are honest and generous out of love, not out of their own ego trying to control the people around them. the pain and grief from the disownment were raw, and traumatic. the loss still hurts, and i process the grief as needed. things come up and hurt sometimes, but it happens and it’s something we learn to deal with. but i'm also celebrating my strength and the exciting future unfolding. it’s a chance to create the life i've always w...

nah not really xd but… consistency matters more than doing it perfectly. just show up, even if you half-ass it. you don’t have to do it for hours; you just have to do it regularly. even five minutes a day will make a difference. the trick is to make it a habit that you do as maintenance, not a last-ditch effort when you’re already spiraling. think of it as a daily brain sweep. Some days you’ll feel great and successful. Others, you might feel like you accomplished absolutely nothing. both are fine. just keep showing up. your brain will thank you.

the unfinished portrait of marianne (my grandmother), came entirely from memory and feeling. no photo, no reference—just me trying to hold onto a soft, strong presence. i wanted to show love, warmth, welcoming. a little innocence too. not the wide-eyed kind, but the gentle kind. the kind that lets you sit next to it quietly and still feel seen. i use black in every piece now. i used to try not to, but now it’s like ehhh fuck iiiiit. i outline in black a lot, shadow with it too. shadows need that kind of darkness. there’s depth in contrast. jewel tones, deep colors with a touch of light or gray—that’s my palette. i like contrasts. i don’t leave white space if i can help it. even in little toon-style drawings, i want something going on in the background. something light, even watery. the shapes in this one are simple, but the feeling behind them isn’t. it’s soft. it’s personal. and it’s exactly how i wanted her to feel.

november’s principle emphasizes our place within the vastness of the universe.  our individual lives are all really just a small part of something massive.  it’s really nice to honor ancestors during this season, connecting with their spirits and remembering their lives.  we can visit their graves, leaving offerings and sharing stories (i used to do this, but now i’m someplace new!).  sometimes in november i dream vividly of vaiva, the goddess associated with both the underworld and the rainbow.  the dream's vivid imagery serves as a powerful reminder of our connections — even across the boundaries of life and death.  this month's superstition: for me, a dream of vaiva this month signifies guidance and protection from the underworld.  

thanksgiving? more like thanks-for-the-fucking-nightmare. phyllis is about to turn your family gathering into a goddamn bloodbath. exploding turkeys, possessed yams, and a plague of demonic squirrels? yeah, that's phyllis's thanksgiving menu for you bunch of goddamn ingrates. say "rabbit rabbit," or face phyllis's november nightmare! incant the words, and she might reward you with a cursed cranberry sauce that gives you hallucinations. perfect for avoiding awkward dinner conversations, you fucking idiots.