The world may be broken but hope is not crazy.

my family has had some pretty interesting encounters with psychics/mediums that seem genuine in the past, but nothing will ever be funnier to me than the last guy my mom talked to who was so definitely bullshitting, because she said "I was hoping to hear from my husband" and the guy went "he said....it's okay to Move On" and like. every single person my mom has recounted this too has been like "He Would Not Fucking Say That". as if this was an ooc fanfic about my father. it's just so fucking funny. fake psychic dude take your shitty headcanons about my ghost dad and LEAVE!!!

like, my parents were legitimately insane about each other. I cannot stress how much he wouldn't say that. I have to assume his ghost was standing right next to this fake psychic yelling "WHAT THE FUCK!!!!" when he told my mom to move on lmfao

actually. funnier to imagine he was a Real Psychic who was just trying to put a move on my mom and didn't think the ghost would do anything about it and now is now dealing with a violently angry haunting for the rest of his days lmfao

Psychic: I also choose this guy’s still-alive wife.

at some point in your life you will be boiling fruit, water, sugar, and lemon juice in a pot to make a syrup or jam. the instructions will tell you to simmer for a certain amt of time. your timer will go off and you will look at the pot and go, "hm, this doesn't look thick enough. maybe i'll let it go for another 10 minutes." this is the devil speaking. it's only so liquid right now because it is at boiling point. it will thicken when it cools down. learn from the follies of my youth and do not let this happen to you

at some point in your life you will be making a sauce or a stew in which you need to add cornstarch to thicken it. and you will prepare a slurry of starch in cold water and think "this looks like way too little starch to thicken this amount of liquid." this is the devil speaking. cornstarch instantly polymerizes at 95°C and if you add too much it will turn into an impossibly thick goop.

at some point in your life you will be making some sort of cream based dessert that requires gelatin to thicken it. and you will soak some gelatin sheets in water and think "this is too few gelatin sheets for this amount of cream." this is the devil speaking. it will thicken in the fridge and if you add too much you will end up with milk jelly

at some point in your life you will be baking cookies. you will take the sheet out after twelve minutes as the recipe instructs and the cookies will still be glistening and soft. "these don't seem cooked enough," you will think to yourself, "i should place them back into the oven until their edges are nice and golden." this is the devil talking. this is how you get dry, overdone cookies. the cookies will continue to bake on the warm sheet for several more minutes and then harden up after sitting on a rack for a while. trust the process. trust the process.

at some point in your life you will be adding a small pasta to a soup and you will think "that is not enough small pasta." this is the devil talking. the pasta will absorb the stock and expand. this is how you end up with a soup that is a solid mass of soggy ditalini.

happy disability pride month to mean cripples, nasty addicts, people with down syndrome who arent nice and talk constant shit, wheelchair users that WILL run you over, autists that dont care and arent about to pretend to, people who lie to their psychiatrists, people that sit on the floor in public places with no benches, amputees that lie profusely about "what happened"; to the "noncompliant", the "drug seeking", the "mean", the "difficult" and the "undeserving", and so on and so forth, i love us all and we deserve the world actually mwah mwah

you summoned them. The bitches with no car

That's how they get around. They teleport to your current location whenever we hear someone talking shit.

when you see something that needs to be done and you think “someone should take care of that” just remember that you’re someone

my knight you have to live you have to get up you have to put your hand over your wound and hold it there. you have to keep walking and walking and walking because you cannot lay down yet, it’s not time. wipe the blood off your breastplate and look up into the sun. lean on your sword if you need to. lift one foot after another. get up. get up. this would be a pitiful grave.

this would be a pitiful grave.