Quinn Cummings Profile picture
Nasty, brutish, short. she/her/bitch. My podcast: https://t.co/kPW2H4R3E2
Chris Brown Profile picture white wine vigilante Profile picture Amy at ThreadReaderApp Profile picture Judy Karpathakis Profile picture OWC Profile picture 37 added to My Authors
21 Oct
A small story:

For a couple of years, Kid swam/water polo’ed/dove. She was never completely dry and the back seat of my car was a shade lighter than the front seat thanks to chlorine.
While all three pool sports shared a venue, the participants were easily categorized. The swim-team kids were the ones shaped like inverted triangles, the water-polo players were covered in bruises and the divers had destroyed hair.

“Didn’t they all?”

Nope.
Swim team wore caps, water-polo wore caps- at least in part so an opponent didn’t tear off their ears- but divers, did not. The pattern of diving/waiting to dive created greater porosity in the hair, leading to greater damage.
Read 15 tweets
20 Oct
For those who asked, here is the book (feat: Non-janky highlighter)
Here is the first page. I will give you no more but lie to me and tell me you don’t want @ElieNYC’s book.

Pre-order it.
You have no idea how mad I am at you, @ElieNYC.

Three chapters in and I CANNOT GIVE THIS TO EVERY PERSON I KNOW FOR CHRISTMAS THE FUCK.
Read 20 tweets
20 Oct
A small story:

I loved ballet.

I loved the precision, the quiet, the discipline, the chasing after a Platonic ideal of a line, a movement, the feeling of flight, of speed. I loved the wardrobe and oh, did I love pointe shoes.

Ballet tolerated me.
At its heart dance is a sport * and, like all sports, there are certain people more physically-suited to the sport than other. I wasn't designed for ballet.

* At its heart, ballet began as a way for French aristocrats to look at lady-legs and pick out their new mistress.
Even though I was small, I was the wrong kind of small; the perfect ballet dancer should have a smaller head, very long limbs and very bendy feet.

If spiders could pirouette, Balanchine would have married three of them.
Read 26 tweets
19 Oct
A small story:

If pressed, I think the most baffling thing to explain to anyone younger than 25 is how rarely anyone over 45 took a picture.

Well, that and rotary phones.

I imagine myself pulling down a photo album and then stopping to explain a photo album.
Having broken down the idea of "We printed them and then put them in a book and never looked at them unlike now, where they are in your phone and you never look at them," I'd show them an average page.

Birthday or two.

Holidays.

Vacation.

"That's a year," I would say.
They'd possibly push the pictures a few times, thinking that maybe it would open a file of the rest of the 16,000 images of pets, meals and bomb-light pouting which is now how we measure a year.

"Nope," I'd say cheerfully, "The picture were printed, picked up, put in here."
Read 18 tweets
14 Oct
A small story:

"I'm sorry," someone who knows me in three dimensions says apologetically, "I'm not on Twitter."

It's fair for them to assume this will wound me deeply. As I have noted before, "I was on Twitter" will always be my alibi, no matter the day or time.
Anyone who spends as much time as I do on here must like it.

Right?

"Good for you!" I say supportively to the non-Twitter person, then add, "And never start. It's a septic tank."

I believe this.

Turns out, I'm that bacteria which has evolved to thrive in septic tanks.
Until this morning, my answer was always, "There is no good reason an emotionally healthy and fully-actualized person should be on Twitter. The Nazis alone are reason enough. Also, no edit button."

This morning, I received a text from a friend's son, newly in this tank.
Read 10 tweets
13 Oct
A small story:

As anyone who has followed me for a while knows, my volunteering energy goes a bunch of places but I put the bulk of it towards @SanteDOr, a tiny, nearly all-volunteer rescue, based in a single storefront in Atwater Village.

Don't let the size fool you.
In the last twenty years, they have saved and placed thousands of cats, some dogs, a few very confused rabbits and one very alarmed hamster. During the pandemic, they redoubled their TNR efforts because a lot of groups were overwhelmed.

They are good people.

Stuff gets done.
More to the point, animals get second chances. Frequently during a Trap/Neuter/Release program in a feral cat colony a volunteer will realize a "Feral" cat is frantically purring and curling around their hands, desperate for safety and care again.
Read 25 tweets
12 Oct
A small story:

"I LIKE this dress!" Consort says appreciatively. I nod in agreement; it's very flattering, clever enough to keep me from yelling about who would pay over $700 for this dress. I mean, I wouldn't but I respect that someone with near-infinite resources would.
I swish around so the dress can have a moment and Consort says happily, "I'm glad you're enjoying this experiment."

I stop mid-swish.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," I say, then add, "I mean, it's fine. It's a good writing prompt."

Even the best couples have unbridgeable chasms.
I think of Consort's temperament as the byproduct of his Mediterranean ancestors, a man capable of great pleasure merely by being surrounded by the things in this world which matter to him. A great red wine being drunk with lifelong friends on a lakeside porch?

Joy.
Read 16 tweets
12 Oct
A few weeks ago, it was suggested a certain “self-made” “billionaire” is expecting a male child.

Court Jester immediately suggested a terrible joke, a joke so bad Quinn informed her, “That joke is not going out.”

She agreed, but suggested we send it to @AlecMapa.

“Fine.”
He laughed.
This morning, I saw this.
Read 5 tweets
9 Oct
Started the podcast and realized, "I MUST LISTEN TO THIS BOOK!"

Got it on @librofm.

@HallieRubenhold has written a compelling, fact-based, sympathetic but clear-eyed history of the people who actually matter in the Jack the Ripper stories; the victims.

Think you know them?
You probably don't.

For one, they were probably not sex workers. Not that their job matters but it set the narrative of blame, a narrative which continues. Rubenhold tells some harrowing stories in her podcast of Ripperheads rating the victims in terms of their sexual appeal.
(You already know that the people attacking her on social media for telling their actual stories, for not being interested in "solving" the case, for giving the victims their humanity back are, by a wide margin, men)
Read 21 tweets
9 Oct
A small story:

Very small.

I don't think you will be surprised to learn I have zero interest or aptitude for the domestic arts. If you've ever heard any of the Biblical passage waxing lyrical about what a real woman does (Proverbs 31:10-31), well, I am Goofus to that Gallant.
This past year, I was (badly) ironing some dress shirt belonging to Consort as we were going to a Zoom funeral. I was watching a pleasantly anodyne baking show while I ironed when I suddenly realized the shirt was done and I still had more show.

I like things to line up.
I looked around and spotted the sheets I was about to (badly) fold and put away. On a whim, I ironed the pillowcases. Owing to them being rectangles, some might even say I didn't do it badly. I started the show again and the baker who won the week mentioned orange-flower water.
Read 6 tweets
8 Oct
My father-in-law was a cameraman who won two Emmys for his work shooting live. Because of his experience, he was brought on for a new live weekend sketch comedy show, where he worked until he retired. He worked for decades in the business, rarely said anything bad about anyone.
There was exactly one person he said was a fucking asshole.
Huh.

It's Chevy Chase's birthday.
Read 4 tweets
7 Oct
A small story:

"Quinn, you seem to enjoy needling idiots."

I do.

"Fish in barrel."

Sometimes, yes.

But also, no.

I suspect but cannot prove that part of what got us here was entirely too much "Let the idiots wear themselves out."

Idiots are built for endurance.
While the adults are waiting for these demented child-golems to stop screaming and setting things on fire, they've convinced five more previously borderline-reasonable souls to scream and set things on fire and yes, the first idiots are tired but also, more fires.
Ideally, needling is like tying ankle weights on them, wearing them down faster. Perfect world, the idiot is embarrassed enough to go wandering off for at least a few minutes to shit on their own toothbrush or listen to @hughhewitt.
Read 21 tweets
5 Oct
A small story:

Mustn't brag but you know you're maybe taking too many Zoom Sculpt classes when the teaches says, "You seemed a little distracted yesterday."

"I was," I answered, nervously eyeing all the accessories we need for class; chair AND resistance band is not good.
I continued, "Small domestic drama was playing out."

I explained that while she was running us through various weight-related tortures, Kid was in lockdown in Doodlehaus because a neighbor had reported a man with a gun in their neighborhood.

"AND YOU STAYED IN CLASS?"
She shouted that but I'm guessing you did as well. I told her what I will now tell you: they were in the inner rooms of Doodlehaus, away from windows; the lights were off; several of her cheerful male roommates were there.

"You sitting on the ground?" I texted Kid.
Read 19 tweets
30 Sep
A small story:

"How goes dresses?"

It's educational. I picked this because I thought, "Oh, it just looks odd because she doesn't know how to stand and it's sort of batik and I love batik because I grew up near Laurel Canyon and you can't go wrong with a shirtdress!"
You ever put something on which starts fighting you even before it leaves the hanger?

That was this dress.

It wouldn't release the hanger, then it wouldn't go over my head and then it trapped my arms like a straightjacket for a minute or so; this dress was not having it.

Me.
When it finally was approximately where it should be, I walked to the mirror and frowned. When had I developed a hunchback? I pulled at the hem which released the hump but then created an odd fluted effect on the bottom, rendering me a guest bedroom bedside-table lamp.
Read 19 tweets
28 Sep
Ah, Gunning-Kruger bit, because he's so nervous these days.

How's the search for a lawyer going?

You can't pay them in bullets, you know.

Remember when you thought this wasn't all going to blow up in your very spacious lap?
"You're ugly and you're crazy."

@johncardillo, you know what I'm not?

On the FBI's to-do list.
Gunning-Kruger, how do you know how you feel about Court Jester?

With your BMI, you haven't seen your dick in years.
Read 4 tweets
26 Sep
Hello, sad little man. What you are referencing is your interpretation of the Bible.

Which is not the Constitution.

My copy of THE PHANTOM TOLLBOOTH is equally relevant to a conversation about American jurisprudence.
Also, Sad Little Man, doesn’t your Big Book of Bullying decree this is the day of rest? And yet here you are…going against the word of Invisible Sky Friend.

@DaveWhiskers
Excellent point! Sad little man, those footie pajamas had best be pure. Unlike abortion, your Invisible Sky Friend had thoughts and feelings about that.
Read 6 tweets
25 Sep
A small story:

I clambered the steep side of Runyon canyon. I'd say "I clambered the steep side of Runyon canyon gracelessly," but that's understood. I'm freakishly adept at clambering but there's a moment on the hill which is just momentum and faith.
Having finished that bit, I looked up -what with being on my hands and knees- in the eyes of a mid-size dog, eyeing me from slightly above me. She thumped her tail as if to say, "Yes, four legs are better. Now, let me show you this smell I found."

"I'm good, thanks," I gasped.
She came over and made herself comfy. I looked around for her people, but everyone I saw seemed to be already attached to a dog. After a second, two women hove into view from the same hill which had tried to kill me. I pointed in a "This your dog in my lap?" way. They nodded.
Read 25 tweets
23 Sep
Huh. That seems like something an expert on shame may want to unpack for us non-experts.

It would certainly shame Court Jester if she did such a thing.

@BreneBrown?
"She was 14 going on 35 and I never forced her."

Wow.

That person who paid you has a really gross friend, @BreneBrown. Guess that check was so big you couldn't see them?

nancylevine.medium.com/is-whole-foods…
"Court Jester, that was four years ago!"

And Brene Brown, as far as Google indicates, has never said, "Upon further reflection, that was kind of 'rhymes with doorish' of me."

Rape culture doesn't stop until everyone owns their own stuff and does better.
Read 4 tweets
20 Sep
A small story:

I'm writing this knowing it won't do fuck-all but I occasionally allow myself a scream into the abyss.

"Papa had another heart attack. And he died," my mother told me when I was nine. I will never, ever forget those sentences. Eight words blew up my world.
How much did it affect me? For much of my life if I was mentioning a theoretical child in the context of something else, I would say "A nine year old girl/boy." My entire childhood was literally pinned to that moment.
Hell, my life was pinned to that moment.
(If you are currently thinking of virtually hugging me...don't. I am fine. Your sympathy or pity fills me with nausea)
Read 10 tweets
19 Sep
A gentle reminder:

1. Tonight is #TheEmmys,
2. Before an award show is the red carpet,
3. I have Thoughts, Feelings about fashion.

If fashion is not your thing, mute me after 2pm, PST. Image
First dress out, we have @nicolebyer in a great color and much fluff. After seeing a flurry of fluff at #TheMetGala, I'm predicting this is just the start of bouncy dresses.
Oh, Emerald.

It's at least three three dresses and Mrs. Roper may have owned all of them and the hair is from another ensemble BUT AT LEAST WE HAVE A BRIGHT LIP THAT DOESN'T GO WITH THE DRESS.

It's so ungainly that I'm going to assume it's Prada. Image
Read 48 tweets