How to make an autistic obsessive-compulsive cry...

We organised skeletons today, which is a pleasing thing to do. If respectful treatment of human skeletal material is organised from the outset, one rarely has to consider its previous use inside humans (disrespectful treatment means one would have to consider it, to rectify the problem). I just like arranging things correctly, bones included.

I was wrestling with the worst preserved skeleton of the lot. Many of the bones were unrecognisable at first glance, appearing just as bony lumps. And a mean trick was played upon me.

"This is a ball and socket joint. It plainly doesn't belong to a pelvis, but the scapulae are both there."

While someone else was muttering... "This foot has six and a half toes..." I wasn't really paying attention. I was stuck, stuck and unhappy with my outlying chunk of scapula.

It was, finally, the three lower legs that clinched it (and I mean finally, we'd been so desperate to sort the damn thing that the third bone disappeared from our vision entirely for about half an hour).

When I'm in Hell, they'll make me sort things that cannot be sorted.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to make a brief, unrelated public service announcement:

If someone has a female-assigned vagina, and intact "female" reproductive organs, and you have a male-assigned penis and intact "male" reproductive organs, and you place the latter genital into the former with no heed to safer sex...

Small humans can be made.

The gender identity of the vaginaed partner is not important. Neither is their exposure to testosterone. Small humans can still be made.

I'M NOT PREGNANT BTW, this is for a man I spoke to recently, and those like him... I quote.

"I fucked him up the fanny! What? He could WHAT?"