you know when little kids are told to smile for the camera and they do the biggest grin bc they arenāt self conscious about their teeth yet they just give it their all.. thatās wat this looks like

oozey mess

blake kathryn
hello vonnie
macklin celebrini has autism

ā
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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if i look back, i am lost

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@sunshine-and-thunderstorms
you know when little kids are told to smile for the camera and they do the biggest grin bc they arenāt self conscious about their teeth yet they just give it their all.. thatās wat this looks like

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Help! All These Boring, Ugly Bitches Won't Hang Out With Me
Care and Feeding, Slate, 23 January 23:
Dear Care and Feeding: I live in the very lonely overlap of a Venn diagram, and I need help figuring out how to fix it. To keep it short, Iām a mom who was on the fence about having kids, so Iām not a very āmom-yā mom. My kid isnāt my life or my identity, and while I think Iām a caring and attentive parent, Iām not the primary parent, and I like it that way. I lost most of my non-parent friends when I had my kid. However, my appearance and interests still very much scream ānon-parent.ā My kid is off-putting to the people most like me (many are overtly judgmental), but my looks and lifestyle are off-putting to other moms (for example, I prioritize my appearance, have a lot of tattoos, and value my work). This has left me very lonely and isolated. Finding friends as an adult is so hard, so please donāt suggest āfinding my peopleā as Iām very extroverted and have been trying to make new friends for years. Itās not working. If Iām honest, I think my childless friends think Iām stupid for having a kid, while my mom acquaintances are jealous of my appearance and judge my choices. It really sucks. āThe Worst Venn Diagram
Dear The Worst Venn Diagram,
Holy shit, a mom ... but with tattoos? Is that even possible? You think you've heard everything at a gig like this, but then someone as incredible as you comes along with such an unusual life story! What a remarkable woman you are.
I can see why it would be difficult for someone as hot and interesting as you to make meaningful connections when you yourself are so special and have a lot of tattoos, and moms are always so ugly and boring and worthless and don't have any tattoos, let alone a lot of them. It might help take the sting off to reframe it this way: it's actually a much bigger bummer that all those sad, frumpy mommy-bots are missing out on an amazing opportunity to befriend a mom with tattoos. Can you imagine how enriched their lives would be if they could get over themselves for just one minute and try to understand you as a person, rather than making a bunch of generalizations and assumptions based on surface-level observations? But here they are, writing you off as soon as they see how beautiful and covered in tattoos you are when you walk around with your important briefcase from work. It's really their loss.
You're practically a unicorn! I mean, okay ā unicorn is hyperbole. But you get what I'm saying! You're probably one of a handful of women anywhere who has a kid and also cares about the way she looks, and when you add in the fact that you work and have just so, so many tattoos? I don't know, unicorn might not be far off.
In light of that, you've set for yourself a really hard task here. It's not going to be made easier by the fact that the dull and homely stay-at-home moms who stupidly chose to contribute nothing worthwhile to society are being so judgmental about the way you live your life as a gorgeous, professional cool girl who just happens to have a kid. You have such a neat and fun lifestyle and other women don't! Why should you be punished for being a valuable person who, more importantly, values herself, unlike the other moms, who look like absolute shit and never have anything interesting to say and don't have tattoos and are so mean and critical of your choices and the way you look?
Never forget this: you are exceptional. It's not such a mystery that you've been trying so unsuccessfully to make friends for so long. Of course you can't "find your people." There are none. You're a sexy mom with tattoos and a job, and that's always going to be hard for the two kinds of women on earth to understand, whether they're the kind of woman who is a judgy, child-free asshole or the other kind of woman: a jealous, kid-obsessed mommy zombie.
You are one of one ā wild and precious and brave and free and so, so pretty, and with so many tattoos. You must never let motherhood define you ā only everyone else.
This is absolutely the advice this person deserved. What an absolute asshole.
Hunger Games didnāt really eat holes in my brain the way that it did for some other people but god the opening lines. The opening lines. Katniss wakes up in bed and immediately, instinctively reaches beside her, only to find the bed empty and cold. Before we even know her name ā before we know literally anything about her or this world or her place in that world ā we know that she loves someone. We know that she is reaching for where Prim should be, sleeping safe and warm beside her, but Prim is not there. She is not there, and her half of the bed is cold and empty. People talk about characters being ādoomed by the narrativeā when most of the time the character was literally just a well-foreshadowed death, but Prim WAS doomed by the narrative. Itās the very first thing we learned. Itās the most key, integral, important piece of information weāre given about everything that is about to happen: Every single choice Katniss makes is to protect her little sister, and it isnāt enough. In the end, Prim still dies. Prim was dead before the story even started. Katniss, reaching. Primās side of the bed was cold and empty. There is no version of this story where Prim could have been saved. Katniss, reaching. The very first thing she does in the series. She wakes, and she reaches, but Prim is already gone. THAT is how you do Doomed By The Narrative. Edit: Also it is key that there was literally nothing Katniss could have done differently. If she had not acted to save Prim, Prim would not have survived the Hunger Games. But by acting to save Prim, Katniss accidentally kicked off an entire rebellion and ultimately massively increased the amount of danger Prim was actually in. The key is that this is irrelevant. If Katniss had done literally anything differently, Prim still would have died. If Katniss had faltered or changed course at any point, Prim still would have died. There was never a point where Katniss could have changed Primās fate. Thereās no version of this story where Prim lives to see the end of it. Sheās dead before the story begins. Thatās doomed by the narrative.
velma and wednesday shows have proven to me that network executives cannot be trusted with our weird girls we need to take them back by force if neccessary
netflix/hbo exec hearing pitch for show about beloved weird girl character: okay this is great. you know what would make this better? we make every other character from this pre existing franchise act completely out of character. right? so it makes the protagonist look far less unpleasant. then we also shave her of everything that actually made her interesting. put in a bunch of fourth wall breaking quotes. yes make a joke about the MeToo movement and weed. teenagers love weed right. amazing. now we just need to make every other girl in the cast impossible to stand and have the protagonist become my mouthpiece for all the shit i cannot get away with saying and jokes that were never funny. but theyll laugh because its a girl right? amazing. send it off. if it flops theyre antifeminist
sorry this is by and far the funniest way to announce youāve lost a leopard

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Obsessed with how Glass Onion broke down character personality through masks right at the beginning. Birdy is the most obvious with her stupid, frivolous, and deeply insensitive mask that lines up with everything we before and after. Duke of course has no mask at all. Lionel not only has a mask, but it seems to be high quality. He knows the risk but ultimately is still with a dangerous and highly risky crowd. Claire has what looks like a sensible mask, but doesn't apply it properly, with having stuff stick out of it and it failing to cover her nose. And Blanc is the only character to put his mask back on after the injection. This fucking movie guys I'm losing my mind
ALSO a l s o
Lionel has a beard.
Masks just do not fit correctly with facial hair, especially as much facial hair as he has. This was hugely publicized in spring 2020 (remember when there were stories of people with beards for religious reasons shaving them to mask properly? Big deal). Not to mention, anyone who knows enough virus safety to use a KF94 eighteen months before huge disease control bodies officially stop recommending cloth/surgical masks, 1000000% knows this.
But he has too much of an ego to properly wear a mask ie. alter his appearance to do so.
Canāt believe Bram Stoker once sent a 2000-word fan letter to Walt Whitman which included his exact height, weight and how much he loved his poems and wanted to be friends with him, and that Whitman wrote back saying he liked his letter and hoped they could meet some day, how cute is that
And then he finally got to meet him and Stoker saidĀ āI found him all that I had ever dreamed of, or wished for in himā HOW CUTE IS THAT
bram stroker just mailed walt whitman his grindr profile just like that huh
Ok, I went to look this up, and it is amazing. Bram Stoker actually wrote this long-ass stream of consciousness letter that spanned about 2000 words and whichājudging by most sitesāhad 0 paragraph breaks and just went on and on about his Feelings. He then proceeded to keep that letter in his desk forĀ four yearsĀ because he was too shy to send it. He finally sent it, along with a slightly less rambly letter, on fuckin Valentineās day in 1876. In it are such wonders as:
If I were before your face I would like to shake hands with you, for I feel that I would like you. I would like to call you Comrade and to talk to you as men who are not poets do not often talk. I think that at first a man would be ashamed, for a man cannot in a moment break the habit of comparative reticence that has become a second nature to him; but I know I would not long be ashamed to be natural before you. You are a true man, and I would like to be one myself, and so I would be towards you as a brother and as a pupil to his master. In this age no man becomes worthy of the name without an effort. You have shaken off the shackles and your wings are free. I have the shackles on my shoulders stillābut I have no wings.
[ā¦]
If you care to know who it is that writes this, my name is Abraham Stoker (Junior). My friends call me Bram. I live at 43 Harcourt St., Dublin. I am a clerk in the service of the Crown on a small salary. I am twenty-four years old. Have been champion at our athletic sports (Trinity College, Dublin) and have won about a dozen cups. I have also been President of the College Philosophical Society and an art and theatrical critic of a daily paper. I am six feet two inches high and twelve stone weight naked and used to be forty-one or forty-two inches round the chest. I am ugly but strong and determined and have a large bump over my eyebrows. I have a heavy jaw and a big mouth and thick lipsāsensitive nostrilsāa snubnose and straight hair. I am equal in temper and cool in disposition and have a large amount of self control and am naturally secretive to the world. I take a delight in letting people I donāt likeāpeople of mean or cruel or sneaking or cowardly dispositionāsee the worst side of me. I have a large number of acquaintances and some five or six friendsāall of which latter body care much for me.
[ā¦]
It is vain for me to try to quote any instances of what thoughts of yours I like bestāfor I like them all and you must feel that you are reading the true words of one who feels with you. You see, I have called you by your name. I have been more candid with youāhave said more about myself to you than I have ever said to any one before. You will not be angry with me if you have read so far. You will not laugh at me for writing this to you. It was with no small effort that I began to write and I feel reluctant to stop, but I must not tire you any more. If you ever would care to have more you can imagine, for you have a great heart, how much pleasure it would be to me to write more to you. How sweet a thing it is for a strong healthy man with a womanās eyes and a childās wishes to feel that he can speak so to a man who can be if he wishes father, and brother and wife to his soul. I donāt think you will laugh, Walt Whitman, nor despise me, but at all events I thank you for all the love and sympathy you have given me in common with my kind.
Three weeks laterāwhich, considering the speed of transatlantic mail at the time, pretty much means immediatelyāWalt Whitman wrote back. He had, at the time, been recovering from a paralytic stroke three years earlier that had left him, in his own words, āentirely shatteredādoubtless permanently, from paralysis and other ailments,ā but he still found the time to respond with a much briefer but still very affectionate letter, the opening paragraph of which read as follows:
My dear young man, Your letters have been most welcome to meāwelcome to me as Person and as AuthorāI donāt know which mostāYou did well to write me so unconventionally, so fresh, so manly, and so affectionately, too. I too hope (though it is not probable) that we shall one day meet each other. Meantime I send you my friendship and thanks.
[letter source]
Despite Whitmanās parenthetical remark about the improbability of meeting, Stoker did eventually manage to call on Whitman a couple of times some years later, and expressed thatĀ
I found him all that I had ever dreamed of, or wished for in him: large-minded, broad-viewed, tolerant to the last degree; incarnate sympathy; understanding with an insight that seemed more than human.
Whitman, meanwhile, found Stoker āan adroit lad,ā and ālike a breath of good, healthy, breezy sea air.ā Adorable.
#did walt whitman fuck BOTH bram stoker and oscar wilde?????#iām so enchanted by thisĀ (via wildehacked)
Yes.
#sending your crush a note that says i am ugly but have sensitive nostrils #get on bramās level (via @door)
Wut
(Cat is @/pixelandsophie on IG)
This comment in the replies has me in absolute hysterics
It's so specific!!
The trifecta
Some gold in the NYT comment section today

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God the prices of tvs have changed so much let me get my graph
wow thats crazy... tvs used to be so expensive!!
This is a comment someone appended to a photo of two men apparently having sex in a very fancy room, but itās also kind of an amazing two-line poem? āHis Wife has filled his house with chintzā is a really elegant and beautiful counterbalancing of h, f, and s sounds, and āchintzā is a perfect word choice hereāsonically pleasing and good at evoking nouveau riche tackiness. And then āto keep it real I fuck him on the floorā collapses that whole mood with short percussive soundsābut itās still a perfect iambic pentameter line, robust and a lovely obscene contrast with the chintz in the first line. Well done, tumblr user jjbang8
I hate that my aesthetic sense agrees with this but everything you just said was correct
I went back to dig up this post because I was thinking about poetry.
This is one of those non-poem things that are among my favorite poems.
As the OP stated, the use of alliterative consonants is aesthetically just great, especially the placement of the strongest use at the end: āfuck him on the floor.ā The use of āchintzā is indeed great word choice.
Because Iām insane, decided to scan the poem:
Not only is the second sentence, indeed, perfect iambic pentameter, the entire poem is perfectly metered, though the first sentence has four iambs rather than five.
There are further things I love about this poem, though: I like the casual connotations of ākeep it realā juxtaposed with āchintz.ā It causes me to interpret the āchintzā more strongly as meaning something fake, a facade. There is also of course the coarseness of āfuck,ā which is a contrast with āchintzā but a different kind of contrast, gutsy and carnal where āchintzā is flimsy and inanimate.
And then there is the storytelling: there is SO MUCH storytelling in just these two lines. To break it down: The speaker is having sex with a married man, in the house he shares with his wife, which is āfilled with chintzāāsomething that here connotes fakeness, in contrast with ākeep it real.ā
The illicit encounter in the poem takes place within a house filled with facade, the flimsy construction of the wifeās marriage and domestic sphere, but the encounter itself is a taste of something āreal.ā Thatās a story, and itās just two lines.
This is EIGHTEEN SYLLABLES, yāall. The amount of meaning condensed into these eighteen syllables is stunning, and it is so elegantly done.
From a technical standpoint (and ive taken 300- and 400-level poetry classes so I can say this) this is damn near flawless as a poem.
Kept thinking about this ever since I saw it and had to do something
there's art now
Ah dang to go further; the floor is framed as a refuge. As if there is literally no other space in this house that hasn't been populated by his wife with flimsy inanimate fakery. There is no space for this man in this house save for the floor. There is no space for him on the sofa, oon the counter tops, and most notably, no space for him in the marital bed.
Iād also like to point out the use of the word āhas.ā The wife has filled the house with chintz. She isnāt filling the house with chintz. She doesnāt fill the house with chintz. She has filled the house with chintz. Use of the past-tense makes the wife a subtly removed element in the story, someone whose presence we see in the environment, but who is blissfully distant during the actors throes of passion. There is an element of physical as well as emotional separation from the wife that is catalyzed by being fucked on the floor. Use of the past tense is an end to the wife presence in the actors life, a carnal catharsis amid cold fragility and emotional distance.
šš“SKELTON PAINTED HORSESš“š
i know tumblr likes violent man eating mermaids but i fuck p heavy with pretty playful pretty scaled mermaids in warm sorts of waters keeping the tide gentle when lil toddlers are learning to swim and kissing the breath into good sailors because they have someone waiting on a cliff by the sea for them to come home and cutting seals and turtles out of netting and plastic bagsĀ
but maybe being from hawaii just made me think of the ocean of a safe cradley sort of place i know its scary i know itāll kick your ass but sometimes its ten types of turquoise and and sometimes sea foam sticks to your eyelashes sometimes the sun hits your face even when youāre twenty feet under and i have a hard time forgetting its first and foremost a wombĀ
so mermaids who watch the triple crown and scare sharks away from the surfersĀ
mermaids swimming upto sharks and gently redirecting them, āthere are no seals over here ok?ā and sending them on their way, tossing a smile to the shadow of the surfer paddling deeper into the waves
little mermaid children racing eachother below the waves, trying to keepup with the surfer above them, laughing and rolling in the water, just shimmers in the corner of the humans eyes.
I like this sort of mermaid more. Our world is scary enough as it is, we dont need any more monsters. Iāll take this over the man eaters anyday
āOur world is scary enough as it is, we dont need any more monsters.ā

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The point of officially naming a pet is not to actually use that name but to have a baseline from which to come up with every conceivable nickname to call them instead.
You bury a seed not because it looks nice in the dirt, but because the limbs that branch out will look nice in the sky
Congrats on contributing to the ancient tumblr tradition of turning shitposts into profound poetry
taylor swift is sooooo annoying. but she is the woman i married