My name is Cooper. My hands don't work and I talk about myself, and personal stuff, far too much. Prone to attack when provoked. Incendiary.

Horse trainer/rock climbing instructor/scientist. Terrible and occasionally sacrilegious Irish catholic. Certified MRA hunter: Saving people. Burning fedoras. The family business.


Calamity’s child

My name is Cooper. My hands don’t work.

Cooper here:

24 years old, native Northern Virginian.

College student. Lush salesperson. Scientist. Ginger.

Rapid cycling bipolar. Two spirit *, pronouns they/them (or “your highness”). Surprise social justice warrior and misandrist. Loves making mean people uncomfortable and trolling. It is one of my life goals to be able to gleek on demand. Certified MRA hunter: Saving people. Burning fedoras. The family business.

*(disclaimer- the use of the term “two spirit” by non-native people is cultural appropriation. I have struggled, as a white passing Amerindian, in whether or not to assign this title to myself. I understand my white passing privilege, which may make some people uncomfortable with my use of the term. I have spent a long time struggling with my identity, both as the “most” white passing member of my family, and someone who is a registered member of the Cherokee nation and non-registered Choctaw and Comanche descendent. I am not going to deny my cultural identity, and my families history, anymore for the sake of not worrying about what other people think of the ginger white girl at the family reunion, and I’m not going to mislable my gender for the sake of people who don’t know me)

That is me. This is my face after getting in a “fish fingers and custard” fight.

This is my face in Centralia, Pennsylvania, with a headless doll:

This is my face in the bathroom:

This is my face with a mustache:

And this is my philosophy towards life:

And I guess that’s it for now.

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