Belle's Corner

*looks at polyamorous triad* so which of you is the soldier and which is the poet and which is the king

People who think sheep are killed for their wool are so hilarious to me. Does your barber slit your throat whenever you get a haircut?? Are you a returning customer to Sweeney Todd? Lmao it grows back, fools.

This is completely ignoring the fact that the sheep's soul is stored in its wool. So sure, the body remains, but the spirit, the essence of the sheep, that's gone forever, and then as the wool regrows a new soul moves in.

What

Same for me, I get a new soul with every haircut. That's why my personality changes so much.

Tumblr citizenship means being completely unsure if the person posting about sheep souls is being 100% serious or is just taking the piss.

I don't want to buy mass-produced garbage from a big box store so I go to etsy but half of etsy is now dropshipped mass-produced garbage or AI slop so I go to the local arts and crafts street market but a ton of those booths are also selling the same generic plastic objects or identical stickers or 3D printed dragons so WHERE do I buy real trinkets and art from sincere freaks

so what you're gonna do is you're gonna trim the top off a bulb of garlic, using the knife's edge to take off the tip of every individual clove, that's important. you're gonna place the garlic face-up in a square of tinfoil, drizzle with olive oil, wrap completely in foil, place in baking tray, repeat with a copious amount of garlic bulbs. you're gonna put that baking tray in an oven set to 375-400°F, for 30-50 minutes, until soft and browned. you're gonna toast some good bread, slather generously with butter and honey, maybe a tiny lil bit o' salt. and then. you're gonna SQUEEZE. OUT. THAT. ROASTED GARLIC. onto the butter honey toast. and you're gonna eat it. food stolen directly from the plate of the gods. that's what you're gonna do.

Yeehaw yall. Gracie is on the run.

What's sending me is the "described as having rounded ears", as if to distinguish her from other stray giraffes that concerned neighbours might encounter.

I mean given Texas apparently has no exotic animal regulation the fact you might encounter another stray giraffe is low, but not zero.

I went to my local wine shop, purchased a mid range bottle of champagne, put it on the top shelf of the fridge to chill, and will open it when it happens. And every day I open the fridge and see that bottle I will remember it might happen today, or it might not. But it will definitely happen some day.

In my fridge, in the door, is a bottle of the same bubbly my sister in law bought my spouse and me for our wedding. It’s queer branded, wrapped in a rainbow, and it is For The Occasion. Sometimes I touch the bottle and hope really, really hard.

And I’d like to add, because I am always conscious that some people do not partake of the spirits, that if you are looking for a non-alcoholic alternative to champagne that still feels fancy, Martinelli’s sparkling juice is delicious and comes in very pretty bottles and looks good in a champagne flute.

and your thing doesn't have to be a drink of any kind at ALL you can have some nice thing you're waiting to crack open to celebrate when it happens, whatever totem you want. it's just nice to have a physical reminder around the house that death comes for us all you know?

I have bought a very silly crab costume, and when it happens I plan on putting it on and running around the block.

give us back carcinization, bunjy. first warning.

The thing is nobody at pride is evaluating you to determine if you’re queer enough to be there because they’re too busy thinking “it’s so hot out” and “why is this lemonade 12 dollars?”

i love that star wars comic where padmé's surviving handmaidens hold a last stand against vader but honestly if i were them i would have dedicated the rest of my life to the most comprehensive and inescapable fake haunting in the history of the galaxy. man should not be allowed two successive heartbeats without seeing his dead wife's face gazing soulfully at him across the room and slipping away before anyone sees. literally what else is the point of being a highly trained operative capable of perfectly imitating your best friend if not to torment her husband for decades after she's gone.

"What do your elvish eyes see?" is Aragorn saying, as politely as possible, "Because the REST OF US are at a significant disadvantage, Prince Dipshit."

I sometimes feel that I'm not doing enough with my life, but at least I grew my first two arms significantly before a cactus would have been expected to.

Reblog if you grew your first two arms significantly before a cactus would be expected to

Be sure to give adolescent saguaros a thumbs up to let them know they’re doing a good job.

i don’t need to put my mental disorders in my bio you can easily infer that there’s something wrong with me