Desperate Fun Productions

you can't say "hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby" on a poll with a 60/40 split. that's hydrogen bomb vs regular bomb

Pipe bomb versus somewhat smaller pipe bomb.

Hydrogen baby va coughing bomb

Two bombs, both alike in dignity, in fair tumblr, where we lay our scene

I am so tired of short-attention-span, trim-the-fat culture. All writing advice these days is for how to write like Chuck Palahniuk. "Cut 'think', cut 'feel', cut 'wonder' - only action, only pushing forward, show and move and move and move." What if I could emulate this style, and still don't want to? What if I want to write like Henry James, with three paragraphs of introspective musings between each dialogue line? The music advice is, "make it shortform, make it Tik-Tok compatible, make it punchy, hit the refrain as soon as possible." What if I want that 10-minute prog rock piece? What if I want that symphony? What if I want it slow and luxurious and lazy? Movies. Series. Poetry. Bodies. Everything is "trimmed trimmed trimmed trimmed, stripped bare, you have three seconds to win me over, make it airport chic." I don't want to win you over, then, I guess. I want the fat left it. I want the pleasure and the indolence and the indulgence. Fuck this art-advice that's always "your art needs Ozempic."

i told my dad the joke “dad jokes are just mom jokes that a man repeated louder” and he thought it was hilarious. he turned to my mother, intending to relay the joke to her, and a bare second after he opened his mouth i watched it dawn on his face that he was about to become the subject of the joke. when i tell you that man was slackjawed as he turned back to me, like he had an entire life altering realization in the span of about 20 seconds.

Everyone go look up the song nasa banned from space

I should make this my new alarm.