cup of bastard soup

this picture of a chip pan oil fire from the wikimedia cookbook is so strikingly sublime

Tetraopes femoratus

they raised the price of monster bang :(

woe, pensive trans pride crochet blanket carmela soprano be upon ye

The Sopranos S03E03

in the pines, in the pines, where the sun don't ever shine

This was parked in front of the club

what is biblical skincare can anyone tell me

my coworker announces that he's off to the dentist. someone reacts with a tooth emoji. is this a statement of dentist solidarity? a wish for my coworker to return with more (or fewer?) teeth than he set out with? simple word association? who can say

you don't go wandering around the appalachians after dark because they have a fuckzillion natural caves a fuckzillion additional mineshafts with a fuckton of random-ass poorly husbanded new growth forest skinned overtop. you don't need feral hillbillies to explain why people disappear in a mountain range with more holes than fleshlight factory. you need two seconds of looking at a map.

AND also, of course, the intense classism and desire to steal local resources (and avoid the guilt of past stealing), which is what turns this ignorance into the specific form of "ooooh scary inhuman hillbillies." but like, in addition to that, there's just no conception that someone could die of exposure/animals/etc. if they're east of the mississippi.

At the age of 93, Duane Michals (February 18, 1932 – June 9, 2026) created this photographic triptych “Do You Mind if I Sit Here?" for the New York Times, a reflection on gay cruising and the pain of being closeted.