thou art a half-eaten sandwich left on a park seat

Daily Recommended Dose of Fiber

as a comment on this post

and hope the bot sees

Do it or the animatronics fucking get me also no I did not kill anyone what are you talking about

tags: @biscuits-lovely-corner @expresso4thedeppresso @funkingrn @aroacesigma @lastdivantruther @barracuda677 @pengumi12 @sulkystella @misschuchuw @someonebeatmetotheseusernames @blinksager @sav3yee @chuuyasboner @ur-local-remy-kinnie @urazayt @thelittleprinceconfirmed @gherkin-saute @vinylbiohazard @amioddlyart

tag all you moots this is not an option

oh and @probablyautism here u go luv

CMON FOLKS

Here's Aziraphale in disguise:

And here's a backstage shot of the Gentlemen in 1941 suits:

A man obsessed with trains finally steals one and immediately crashes it, killing several people.

At the trial, the man is found guilty of multiple murders and sentenced to death.

Before he faces his sentence, he’s offered a last meal, and asks for a single banana, which is given to him.

The next day, he’s led to the electric chair. They strap him in, pull the switch, and... nothing happens.

There’s never been a failure before. But because you cannot punish a person twice for the same crime, the court is forced to let him go free.

Within a week’s time, naturally, the man, who is obsessed with trains, goes and steals another one.

He doesn’t care that he can’t drive it or that he failed catastrophically before; he is obsessed with trains and his only desire is to operate one. As before, he crashes it, and kills several people.

Again, he stands trial, and again, he is sentenced to death, showing no remorse, only delight that he got to operate the train.

His last meal request is a single banana. When he goes to the chair, the executioner pulls the switch, but nothing happens. He goes free again.

The train-obsessed maniac, once more on the loose, wastes no time in hijacking a train and crashing it.

His trial is speedy, because this has already happened twice, and he is sentenced to death.

They ask him what he’d like for his last meal. “A single banana,” he says.

“Oh, no you don’t, you son of a bitch. We’re on to you, now. We know all about your little banana trick, and you’re not escaping this time!”

The guards refuse his request, and instead serve him a standard last meal of steak, potatoes, and berry cobbler.

The next morning they strap him into the electric chair, pull the switch, and... nothing happens.

“Did you give him the banana?” demands the head guard.

“No, sir! He asked for the banana but we didn’t give it to him, we swear!” says one of the guards.

Bespoke 9 course meal meant to be enjoyed by @tothechaos

Foreword:

As tasked by the prolific Gordan Ramsey, this 9 Course endeavour will feature the post in its entirety segmented into 9 delightfully ornate, unreasonably complex yet delectably unparalleled dishes. In the following, we'll see how to prepare each of these dishes.

Course One

Dish name: 10k notes of Hubris

10k Notes of Hubris is a simple risotto with saffron infusion and forest mushrooms, topped with shavings of the top 9th piece of this post, printed in full colour, regular stock. Due to the nature of a 9 course setting, it is wise to start with a simpler dish.

Ingredients (serves four people):

1 teaspoon of saffron

300g carnaroli rice

50g extra virgin olive oil

20g butter

5g shallots

1l vegetable broth

parsley (to taste)

100g porcini mushrooms

80g portobello mushrooms

100g brown mushrooms

5g truffle oil

5g lemon peel and lemon juice

30g parmesan cheese

thyme (a dash)

5g garlic

A pinch of salt and pepper

The first 9th of this post, printed in full colour with regular stock.

Method:

In a saucepan, pour the oil and the chopped shallot(s), then add the rice and saffron and toast

Pour the broth a little at a time and cook slowly. Allow to cook before adding salt and black pepper. Stir in butter, grated parmesan cheese, chopped parsley, truffle oil, lemon juice and peel.

In a separate saucepan, cook the mushrooms with oil, garlic, thyme, salt and black pepper.

Presentation:

At the base of the dish pour the risotto, complete with forest mushrooms and basil leaves. Shave the printed top 9th of the post and sprinkle on top. Drizzle a dash of olive oil before serving.

@just-shower-thoughts

@just-binch-thoughts

Xoxo

-Designer

BARD I paint ye now an image from my kin. I’ve been and ta’en it for your hearing ears: A hospital for children, made of old, Has been remade, a recent remedy. This new decor, a mystery I’ll tell, and your own wit shall that myst’ry unfold. Imagine, if you will, a white-stain’d hall, As pale and pure as any infant’s soul, With paints of red and crimson smearing it, In lines across the floor and through the doors. Now answer, if you may, this question plain: What seems the matter with this painting plan?

FIRST LADY OF PRACTICE I can with ease and style tell ye this: That any choice of shade would better be.

FIRST LADY OF THEORY I’d point to thee a simple truth, my friend: The shade of red has, in totality, More good than evil in its meaning truth.

FIRST LORD OF PRACTICE O! I am slain! Thy words have killéd me. Thy speech, sweet lady, rocks me to my core. For truly, red hath meaning in the scores, But one fine truth makes this irrelevant: The image painted by our kindly Bard Stirs in the mind a sight of murder foul, With red of blood across the whitéd walls.

SECOND LADY OF THEORY Good sirs and ladies fine, please hear me now. There is, i’faith, a thing we must attend: ‘Tis Colour Theory, bright and shining light That will, in its fine song, come bearing truth. My friend, the other lady of this faith Hath spoken truly of the soul of red. I’ll tell ye now, all who attend my speech, What red doth in our hearts and souls arouse: First: love, and follows quickly after: lust, Then, passion, which makes living worth its pain, And many other good and worthy things. Thy “blood” and “death” do fade in light of this. I leave ye now with three fine helpful gifts: The first, a book, a Dictionary fine, Which will with pages long and words verbose Bring light into your dark and suff’ring minds. The second gift, a fleeting kiss to you, The third, a warm and comforting embrace, These last I give so that in hours late, When candles dim, and all is cold and dark, A memory you’ll have to keep you warm: ‘Tis that of being closely held and kiss’d By one as wise and artistic as I.

SECOND LADY OF PRACTICE I think these words, though truly ones of wit, Doth miss the point somewhat.

SECOND LORD OF PRACTICE                                                  I’ll drink to that. A man can sing and dance around the point. A man can run across the sea itself, A man can hold and kiss me ‘til I bleed, But song, nor sea, nor sweet embracing arms Can change the fact that this appears as blood.

THIRD LADY OF PRACTICE The ladies here who “Colour Theory!” cry Doth, as milady said, full miss the point. The song, or tale, our Bard hath painted here Does only in a small amount of words Say “red”; the rest, in speaking of the hall, Speaks of its stark and shocking conflict, see. A man who sees a hall in white and red May very well see love and lust and all, But if the hall has red in smears and stains A splattered mark upon the wall, or trails As those left by the low and slothful snail, The man will see in scarlet only blood, And no embrace, or kiss, or ancient tome Can override an instinct strong and true.

They play the same roles as I/me/my/mine. In modern english, we use “you” for both the subject and the direct object/object of preposition/etc, so it’s difficult to compare “thou” to “you”.

So the trick is this: if you are trying to turn something Olde, first turn every “you” into first-person and then replace it like so:

“I” →  “thou”

“Me” →  “thee”

“My” →  “thy”

“Mine” →  “thine”

Let’s suppose we had the sentences “You have a cow. He gave it to you. It is your cow. The cow is yours”.

We could first imagine it in the first person-

“I have a cow. He gave it to me. It is my cow. The cow is mine”.

And then replace it-

I sleep in the attic. Thou sleepest in the attic. He sleeps in the attic.

I love pickles. Thou lovest pickles. He loves pickles.

I go to school. Thou goest to school. He goes to school.

The -(e)st ending is only added to one word in a compound verb. This is where a lot of people make mistakes:

I will believe it when I see it. Thou wilt believe it when thou seest it. He will believe it when he sees it.

NOT

*thou willst believest it! NOPE! This is wrong

If you’re not sure, try saying it in the third person and replacing the -(e)st with -s:

*He will believes it when he sees it. ALSO NOPE! 

In general, if there’s one auxiliary, it takes the -(e)st ending) and the main verb does not. If there are multiple auxiliaries, only one of them takes -(e)st:

I could eat a horse. Thou couldst eat a horse. He could eat a horse.

I should go. Thou shouldst go. He should go.

I would have gone. Thou wouldst have gone. He wouldst have gone. 

You can reduce the full -est ending to -st in poetry, if you need to drop a syllable:

thou sleepst, thou lov'st.

In some common words–mostly auxiliary verbs, or what you might have learned as “helping verbs”–the ending is always reduced:

I can swim. Thou canst swim. He can swim.

Sometimes this reduction takes the last consonant of the stem with it:

I have a cow. Thou hast a cow. He has a cow. 

Or reduces the -st down to -t:

I must believe her. Thou must believe her. He must believe her.

I shall not kill. Thou shalt not kill. He shall not kill.

However! UNLIKE the third-person singular -s, the second person -(e)st is ALSO added to PAST TENSE words, either to the past stem in strong (irregular) verbs or AFTER THE -ed in weak (regular) verbs: 

I gave her the horse. Thou gavest her the horse. He gave her the horse.

I made a pie. Thou mad’st a pie. He made a pie.

I wanted to go. Thou wantedst to go. He wanted to go.

This is different from the third person!

*He gaves her the horse. He mades a pie. He wanteds to go. SO MUCH NOPE!

It’s not wrong to add -(e)st to a long Latinate verb in the past tense, but it’s unusual; it’s much more common to use a helping verb instead:

I delivered the letter. (Great!)

Thou deliveredst the letter. (Not wrong, but weird)

He delivered the letter. (Great!)

I did deliver the letter. (Normal if emphatic, or an answer to a question; otherwise, a little weird.)

Thou didst deliver the letter. (Great!) 

And a couple last things:

1.) Third-person -(e)th is mostly equivalent to and interchangeable with third-person -s:

I have a cow. Thou hast a cow. He hath a cow.

I love her. Thou lovest her. He loveth her.

I do not understand. Thou dost not understand. He doth not understand.

HOWEVER! Third-person -(e)th, unlike -s but like -(e)st, can, sometimes, go on STRONG past-tense verbs:

I gave her the cow. Thou gavest her the cow. He gaveth her the cow.

This never happens with weak verbs:

*He lovedeth her. NOPE NOPE NOPE!

And even with strong verbs, from Early Modern (e.g., Shakespearean) English onward, it’s quite rare. But you will see it from time to time.

2.) In contemporary Modern English, we invert the order of subjects and auxiliary verbs in questions:

Will I die? I will die. 

Has she eaten? She has eaten.

If there’s no auxiliary, we add one–do–and invert that:

Do you hear the people sing? You (do) hear the people sing.

In Early Modern English, this process was optional, and mostly used for emphasis; all verbs could be and were moved to the front of the sentence in questions:

Hear ye the people sing? (Or singen, if we’re early enough to still be inflecting infinitives.)

Do-support was also optional for negatives:

I don’t like him. I like him not.

Thou dost not care. Thou carest not.

She does not love thee. She loves thee not.

3.) Imperative verbs never take endings:

Hear ye, hear ye!

Go thou and do likewise!

Give me thy hand. Take thou this sword. 

4.) Singular ‘you’–that is, calling a singular person by a plural pronoun–arose as a politeness marker; and ‘thou’ fell out of use because it eventually came to be seen as impolite in almost all contexts. In general, once singular ‘you’ comes into use, it is used for addressing

people of higher social status than the speaker

or of equivalent status, if both speakers are high-status

strangers

anyone the speaker wants to flatter

‘Thou’ is used for

people of lower social status than the speaker

family and intimate friends

children

anyone the speaker wants to insult

It is safer to ‘you’ someone who doesn’t necessarily warrant ‘you’ than to ‘thou’ someone who does.

5.) And finally, that ‘ye’? That’s the nominative form of you–the one that’s equivalent to ‘I’ or ‘we.’ 

I  → thou → he/she/it  → we → ye → they

Me → thee → him/her/it → us → you → them

My → thy → his/her/its → our → your → their

Mine → thine → his/hers/its → ours → yours → theirs

Any time you’re using ‘thou’ for the singular, the second person plural– ‘y’all’– declines like this:

ye:  Ye are all a bunch of weirdos.

you: And I love you very much.

your: This has been your grammar lesson.