Hei hei Appa, olit paras kiisu ♡♡♡♡
2014-2023
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KIROKAZE
Sweet Seals For You, Always

ellievsbear

@theartofmadeline
Not today Justin
Sade Olutola

★
d e v o n
cherry valley forever
Mike Driver
$LAYYYTER
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor

Origami Around
Show & Tell

izzy's playlists!

Janaina Medeiros

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@drev-the-procrastinator
Hei hei Appa, olit paras kiisu ♡♡♡♡
2014-2023

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Did teen girls in the 60s write weird fanfic in their notebooks about being sold to the Beatles or Beach Boys?
So apparently there weren't actually that many unironic "sold to One Direction" fics in the 2010s. Most of them were satirical.
There should be a name for the phenomena where something does a plot or elements that enters the public conscious as a cliche despite most instances of it's actually being a parody of 1 or very few in ironic examples.
Like there are almost no horror movies that are earnestly about a group of teens going to a cabin in the woods and getting got by monsters, almost every example is either a parody or satire or a subversion,
Phantom Trope maybe? Like phantom islands.
Isn't that just dead unicorns?
That's brilliant, actually. Like "beating a dead horse" but the horse doesn't exist.
The Odyssey but retold as a low-stakes modern adventure of one guy out with his girlfriend leaving the bar with his buddies to do just one (1) simple thing real quick, it'll take like 15 minutes tops, he'll be right back, but then some bullshit happens and the trip keeps getting more complicated as more bullshit keeps happening while he just tries to get back to the bar because he promised his girlfriend that he'd get back and he knows that she's still there because she told him she'd wait there.
And by the time he finally gets back it's almost 3 am and the bar is about to close while she's sitting there stone cold sober, surrounded by 5 drunk guys unsuccessfully trying to convince her to give up on waiting for him and go home with one of them instead. And the guy shows up to proceed to beat the shit out of them before explaining himself to her like hey sorry bullshit kept happening, my phone fell into a storm drain and my wallet got stolen when I was trying to find someone who'd borrow me a phone so I could call and
His girlfriend had been fending off the 5 drunk guys for most of the evening by explaining that even if she was going to ditch her boyfriend, she can't possibly leave without finishing her beer, which she is keeping perpetually full via careful sleight of hand where she's just pouring it back and forth into and out of the pitcher.
However the drunk guys are also drinking, and eventually she can't afford to buy another pitcher for the table so she can't keep up the ever-full beer glass trick. At this point she has to resort to setting up the pool trick shot that she's never seen anyone but her boyfriend pull off, and says she'll leave with whoever manages the shot first.
That buys her another hour or so and then, finally, her boyfriend makes it back. He looks like shit, hair down and just a mess, he's wearing an entirely different jacket that he got from an alley, and barely recognizable—especially to 5 guys who've been drunk for hours now. He lurks for a minute, finds out what's going on, and proceeds to pull off the trick shot first try. Throws the jacket off, fixes his hair with a hair tie his girlfriend lends him, finally looks like himself again, and THEN beats the shit out of them with the pool cue.
yuh i was there, that's how it happened
Copycat
the last day you have your house to yourself before visitors arrive is kind of like a dead wife
prev you get ittttttttttttt

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Same spot, different month. The first painting is from April 2024 and the second one is from July 2024.
I walk my dog along the path that goes past this bench. I have an obsessive amount of photos of this exact spot. The changes in nature and weather intrigue me.
Gouache on A5 Hahnemühle watercolour sketchbook.
Spin the wheel. That's who's trying to kill you.
Spin the wheel again. That’s who’s trying to protect you.
(If you have zero idea about a name you got, spin until you see someone you recognize.)
Are you safe?
Absolutely not. I'm dead. 100% dead.
I might stay alive, but it'll be a really close thing.
I'll take some hits, for certain, but I should be okay in the end.
A few attacks might get through, but nothing concerning.
The attacker might be able to get in one lucky hit. If that.
I am the opposite of worried. I'm 100% safe.
…Look. I've tried picturing this. But I honestly don't know how to answer.
(I've run this poll twice before, expanding it significantly for the second run. With about a year passed since that second run, I thought it was time to add another couple hundred names to the list and have another go.)
I'm not ready.
brain grace,,, grain
Some narratives in international development hold that ending poverty and achieving good lives for all will require every country to reach t
The conclusion, and one of the harder hitting parts of the article. Solving poverty does not require complex solutions and long timeframes.
I'm reminded of that one part in Frederick Douglass's autobiography where he gets to the north for the first time and assumed, since they didn't have slaves, that everyone was about as poor as non-slaveowning white southerners. And they weren't! There were poor people, sure, but there were lots of people living very comfortably or in luxury.
He mentions how angry it made him, that not only were thousands and thousands of people suffering to create luxury for a few, but that slavery wasn't even necessary for wealth to exist. That's really stuck with me.
we have the solutions. We are watching the powers that be continually create golden calves to pray to, hoping maybe this next god will give them a different answer other than the obvious. It's socialism or barbarism.

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Hello, welcome to 2050, our gallery - oh, no, that art is not done with AI, the industry collapsed decades ago, but human artists have rediscovered the aesthetic and are using it ironically. Yeah they call it Neo-Modern AI Chic, they've been trying to recover surviving slop and put it in the archives. Oh, we're very into 2020s aesthetics now. You remember, Hyperlink Unburbia? Rustic Pseudo-Cryptid? Self-Care Shadowscape? You don't...know any of those? That's weird. They really define your time, is all, uh, and we're into it
That china dog that ornaments the bedroom of my furnished lodgings. ...I do not admire it myself. Considered as a work of art, I may say it irritates me. Thoughtless friends jeer at it, and even my landlady herself has no admiration for it, and excuses its presence by the circumstance that her aunt gave it to her.
But in 200 years’ time it is more than probable that that dog will be dug up from somewhere or other, minus its legs, and with its tail broken, and will be sold for old china, and put in a glass cabinet. And people will pass it round, and admire it. They will be struck by the wonderful depth of the colour on the nose, and speculate as to how beautiful the bit of the tail that is lost no doubt was.
We, in this age, do not see the beauty of that dog. We are too familiar with it. It is like the sunset and the stars: we are not awed by their loveliness because they are common to our eyes. So it is with that china dog. In 2288 people will gush over it. The making of such dogs will have become a lost art. Our descendants will wonder how we did it, and say how clever we were. We shall be referred to lovingly as “those grand old artists that flourished in the nineteenth century, and produced those china dogs.”
-- Three Men In A Boat, Jerome K. Jerome, 1889
Unburbia...
Blueberries - Heikki Kukkonen , 2021.
Finnish , b. 1954 -
Oil , 14.5 x 26 cm.
Thinking about a new bit where i start using “workers of the world” as my go-to second person plural pronoun. Like “chat”.
Workers of the world what do we think of this. Is it funny.
Workers of the world please like and reblog my post
Study of Drapery (1900) by Alphonse Mucha
When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.
After a few hours, I didn’t hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said “hi” and I said “hi” and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadn’t read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said “hey buddy” and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child they’d pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.
The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didn’t use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldn’t and she instantly looked relieved and happier.
My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.
Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didn’t make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says “I found a movie about Your People.” My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didn’t know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, “Hey dad, you know how about half the world is women?” And he said “yeah,” and I said “Well, see, I’m on that half now. I’m not doing drag.” And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like “omg that’s so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?”
Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.

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Here's some unserious comics and hastily drawn doodles
a visitor on the biodome!!