I recently cleaned malware that downloaded as a virus during one of the early February Chrome updates, and I was going to blog about it, but I just don’t care to anymore. It caused a lot of stress, and I was too paranoid to go into email or blogging-related things, because I didn’t want to have to spend time cleaning malware off the server if I could easily avoid it.

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Autistic Hedgehog: If you support @AutismSpeaks, we can't be friends. via @lizandcode

Autistic Hedgehog: If you support Autism Speaks, we can’t be friends.

If you follow me on Twitter, you’ve likely been hit with a swarm of anti-Autism Speaks tweets, whether they were retweets or actually my own.

I’m autistic—an Aspie—and I used to not talk about it. Now, I do, and I feel better for it. I’m not ashamed. I don’t want a fucking cure.

The Autistic Hedgehog meme may seem a little harsh, but it’s spot-on, and I’ll tell you why. I blogged about this over on Crunchy Family, my cousin’s blog, because of the mommies I wanted to reach out to, and I decided to talk about it here, because it’s extremely important.

If you support Autism Speaks to support autistics, you’re not supporting autistics. Autism Speaks doesn’t speak for autistics—they don’t even listen to us, contrary to one of their slogans—and they’ve been trying to silence us for the last few days.

Autism Speaks does not make autistics’ lives easier.

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Sweaty palms and pits, a volcano preparing to erupt in the stomach, heart rapidly beating as if life’s about to end—these are the moments felt before a phone call.

When someone says they’re going to call me, I think to myself, “Okay, how can I make this not happen? What could I be doing instead? I have laundry I need to do, I could clean my room, I could clean the bathroom—someone might need help moving something, or maybe I’ll need to babysit… what if I get sick?

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I can go off on tangent after tangent, ranting about how 6birds is my blog, my life is my life, and my story is my story.

I can explain how fucked up it is that I’m expected to fucking censor myself because some people that were once in my life are so fucking paranoid—and then go on to explain how fucking ridiculous and out of line it is to have people request from me proof of my online activities demonstrating how I’m not doing anything wrong in their eyes.

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