every time i see this fucking toothpaste my brain autoplays the men in black theme song send help

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祝日 / Permanent Vacation

izzy's playlists!
Not today Justin
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Show & Tell
i don't do bad sauce passes
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@ritavonbees
every time i see this fucking toothpaste my brain autoplays the men in black theme song send help

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STAR WARS: THE FORCE AWAKENS 2015 | dir. J.J. Abrams
youre either getting in bed with me or youre getting in bed against me
A star trek cosplay photo from 1968 that i found while going down the rabbit-hole of looking for the source on a post
I feel like I need to share this because idk if Europeans are familiar with the presence of Aldi in the US, but at least especially in my area they’ve been growing a lot recently. Like Aldi bought out some local failing grocery chains where I live (Louisiana) and have opened Aldis in all these somewhat rural communities and small towns, which for the record I’m fine with
But as a result of this they are advertising a lot more in my area and also in many cases, the people in these areas have never been confronted with Aldi or any European grocery store. So the ads that Aldi is pushing out to its new US customer base feature a cowboy shopping at Aldi who is explaining to new Aldi customers how Aldi works. Like this cowboy is explaining you gotta put a quarter in the shopping cart and why there are very little name brands. A cowboy is how they want to reach their American customer base. They gave us a cowboy
Here he is, the Aldi Cowboy

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my first year of high school i was in this intensive outpatient exposure therapy program which i attended for the first half of every other weekday, or something. it was in this out-of-the-way room in some sort of hospital; the memories flicker a bit because i've been in a lot of rooms with buzzy fluorescent lights and adults who talk to me like a dog, so they sort of blur together. there are a few things that distinguish my time in iop, though, and one of those is the little boy on the other side of the room, with a different small group of kids and therapists, who screamed endlessly. he couldn't have been much older than eleven. he would come in every day a bit after me and start screaming and i would put my head down on the table between my arms, trying to cover my ears. i never heard him say a word. there was a tiny empty room they sent him to, but it wasn't actually soundproof, just a little further away, so everything we did at the program was accompanied by the background score of a little boy screaming in another room. at the time i found it only a bit more annoying than the slight buzzing of the fluorescent lights, because none of the adults gave any indication that something was wrong here, and all of us kids were crazy anyway. i graduated the summer before my sophomore year, and he was still there when i left. i don't remember his name or what he looked like, and it's not like i could reach back and save him if i did.
i keep wanting to reframe this act as some kind of tiny liberation, but that's a lie, and not a permissible lie like the lies that slip into everything i write from memory no matter how objective i pretend to be. it's the worst kind of lie! it's theft! i spent some time in that room, too, when i became too unwieldy, but i can't cut and fold my memory over him and place the screams in my throat. i can't know why he screamed. i know that i could have, and i think that i probably should have, and i know that i didn't. i spent the first part of my childhood screaming, and then i spent a lot of time in rooms with buzzy fluorescent lights and adults who talked to me like a dog, and i became the only person i can tell this story as: the girl on the other side of the room who listened to him scream and didn't wonder about it at all.
“I was thinking,” I said, “about back then, at Hailsham, when you used to go bonkers like that, and we couldn’t understand it. We couldn’t understand how you could ever get like that. And I was just having this idea, just a thought really. I was thinking maybe the reason you used to get like that was because at some level you always knew.”
Tommy thought about this, then shook his head. “Don’t think so, Kath. No, it was always just me. Me being an idiot. That’s all it ever was.” Then after a moment, he did a small laugh and said: “But that’s a funny idea. Maybe I did know, somewhere deep down. Something the rest of you didn’t.”
— Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go
The Shout by Simon Armitage
We went out
into the school yard together, me and the boy
whose name and face
I don't remember. We were testing the range
of the human voice:
he had to shout for all he was worth
I had to raise an arm
from across the divide to signal back
that the sound had carried.
He called from over the park - I lifted an arm.
Out of bounds,
he yelled from the end of the road,
from the foot of the hill,
from beyond the look-out post of Fretwell's Farm -
I lifted an arm.
He left town, went on to be twenty years dead
with a gunshot hole
in the roof of his mouth, in Western Australia.
Boy with the name and face I don't remember,
you can stop shouting now, I can still hear you.
one of my favorite things in Master & Commander the book is there's a side character with a blatant huge gay crush on Jack and everyone else is like "does he know... he has to know... there's no way he doesn't know..." and then you get Jack's POV and it's extremely clear that this man is a remarkably smart dog who was bred to understand the world strictly in terms of Ships (fantastic) and Not Ships (?)
Putting the term "male gaze" on top of the fridge until everyone remembers that it refers to a cinematographic trend and not the act of looking at things while being a man
reaching up to get it off of the fridge and the big tshirt im wearing as pyjamas rides up and the reader sees my panties
intercepting it basketball style and putting it in whatever the hell is going on in this song, upsetting everyone
Let’s not forget to acknowledge Alexandre Dumas this Black History Month
The writer of two of the most well known stories worldwide, The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo was a black man.
That’s excellence.
Let’s not forget that he was played on screen by a white man. And the fact that he was black is barely ever mentioned or the book he wrote inspired by his experiences.
Other things not to forget about Alexandre Dumas:
chose to take on his slave grandmother’s last name, Dumas, like his father did before him.
grew up too poor for formal education, so was largely self-taught, including becoming a prolific reader, multilingual, well-travelled, and a foodie, resulting in his writing both a combination encyclopedia/cookbook (which just— is fucking outrageous to me) AND the adaptation of The Nutcracker on which Tchaikovsky based his ballet
he also wrote a LOOOOT of nonfiction and fiction about history, politics, and revolution, bc he was pro-monarchy, but a radical cuss, and that got him in a lot of hot water at home and abroad.
even beyond that, he generally put up with a lot of racist bullshit in France, so he went and wrote a novel about colonialism and a BLATANTLY self-insert anti-slavery vigilante hero (which he then cribbed from to write the Count of Monte Cristo, the main character of which, Edmond Dantés, Dumas also based on himself).
(…a novel which also features a LOAD of PoC beyond the Count, and at LEAST one queer character, btw, bc EVERY MOVIE ADAPTATION OF ANYTHING BY DUMAS IS A LIE; seriously, at LEAST one of the four Musketeers is Black, y'all.)
famously, when some fuckshit or other wanted to come at Dumas with some anti-Black foolishness, Dumas replied, “My father was a mulatto, my grandfather was a Negro, and my great-grandfather a monkey. You see, Sir, my family starts where yours ends.”
for the bicentennial of his birthday, Pres. Jacques Cirac was like, “…sorry about the hella racism,” and had Dumas’s ashes reinterred at the Panthéon of Paris, bc if you’re gonna keep the corpses of the cream of the crop all together, Dumas’s more widely read and translated than literally everybody else.
and they are still finding stuff old dude wrote, seriously; like discovering “lost” works as recently as 2002, publishing stuff for the first time as recently as 2005.
ALSO IMPORTANT:
SWAG
I am absolutely ashamed to admit I had NO idea Dumas was black.
when this post first went around (a year ago apparently) I was like BUT WHAT ABOUT DADDY DUMAS THOUGH because basically
daddy general dumas was an immense fierce french warrior who was a 6 foot plus, stunningly gorgeous and charismatic Black gentleman
he invaded egypt
the native egyptians said “is this napoleon? this must be napoleon. we for one welcome our majestic new overlord”
then napoleon showed up
napoleon has all the presence of yesterday’s plain Tesco hummus
the native egyptians were like “… no… no, we’ve thought very hard and we’ll have General Dumas actually”
this did not make napoleon happy
in fact it made him jealous
napoleon felt so emasculated that he launched a campaign of revenge against General Dumas, including taking away his pension, that probably inspired a lot of Alexandre’s rather satisfying scenes in which fathers are nobly avenged and the money-grubbing villains are rubbed in the mud
I was never taught that he was Black either. WTF.
General Dumas (aka Thomas Alexandre Davy de La Pailleterie) looked like this…
…and like this…
…while “Napoleon has all the presence of yesterday’s plain Tesco hummus“…
:-D
I suspect Alexandre Dumas would have laughed at that, because besides looking like someone who laughed a lot…
…he was also a foodie.
He was also born in present-day Haiti. Back then, it was the French colony of Saint-Domingue.
General Dumas was also the highest ranking officer of African descent to have command of a European army. EVER.
His stuff is in the public domain, you can find them on Project Gutenberg here:
Project Gutenberg offers 73,007 free eBooks for Kindle, iPad, Nook, Android, and iPhone.
And for those of you who would like to try audio versions, this is what is on LibriVox, the free, volunteer run audiobook version of Project Gutenberg:
LibriVox
I think a lot about who I am to other people in the world–particular who I am to strangers as a mere concept in their lives.
Today this woman called our information desk and said, “my son’s band is playing tonight. I want to come see him, but he never answers his phone…..I want to be there. Have you heard anything about his band?”
And I felt so bad for this lady but I’m not in the music scene around here so I had to tell her no, sorry.
Five hours later, I’m hiking and run into a group of guys setting up for some outdoor performance, and as I watch them unload the drums it hits me.
“Hey,” I said, “are y’all in a band?”
They said yeah and smiled and I told them “one of your moms called today. She wants to watch you play, but she can’t get a hold of you. Call your mom.”
And they all pulled out their phones and started discussing whose mom it probably was as they presumably dialed their own.
And now, unless we meet again and recognize each other, that’s who I’ll be forever to those guys–some mysterious courier for mom-messages who came out of the woods and told them their mom called.
I didn’t even tell them why their mom called me. Who am I to their mom?? Nobody even asked. They just took my word for it and called their mothers.
Amazing.
I’M LAUGHING!!! THEY DIDN’T EVEN ASK WHO I AM.

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dr frankenstein was one of the first to invent a guy to be mad about
ok hands up who built the forever war from the hit sci-fi classic 'don't build the forever war' we've been over this
me last night, immediately before getting in a giant weirdly cyberpunk looking hot tub with a fat butch in a bikini and a bunch of naked gay dudes (one of whom was wearing a pink cowboy hat)
how drunk was i? the hot tub had an underwater light and every time it cycled green i was like wow we're getting Gatsby in this hot tub tonight lmao

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goo goo dolls if they were in dune: and i don’t want the worm to see me
most FUCKABLE trolls
HOTTEST goblins
top TEN WAYS to make your penis STRANGER