y'all ever get bored but like in an angry way….like you keep picking things up and putting them down bc none of them is The Right Thing and you have like pent up manic energy but absolutely nothing is holding your interest long enough to release it and you’re just >:(
Jason Aldean has a small man insecurity. He is trying to exploit small town insecurities from his mansion and security detail. #PlasticCowboy
Can’t imagine surviving a mass shooting where guns killed 60 innocent people and wounded 400 more, and you think guns are the way to resolve issues. Fcuking 🤡
It’s worth noting that Kenneth spent the entire episode making the game (and the subsequent fight) as inclusive as possible for JJ and his disabled friends (all of whom were played by disabled actors/actresses).
Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.
Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.
Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.
You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.
As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.
Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.
This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.
A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.
Weren’t u a facebook admin for a group that just did that?
the most hilarious moment of my career was when i got a job at the company that ran the best of tumblr FB page so i briefly had the keys to one of the pages that had been stealing my shit for years.
The threat that we won’t have new shows and movies coming out because of the strikes would hit a little harder if 99.9% of everything coming out wasn’t God awful derivative schlock that you watch once and immediately forget.
“Due to the strike we’ve had to turn the diarrhea machine off”
so SAG-AFTRA finally released some official guidance for fans, viewers, creators/influencers, critics, and more during the strike. here’s what you need to know:
if you see a publication/news source/journalist talking about a piece of struck work, that’s ok. they’re allowed to do that.
2. they’re asking regular viewers and fans to DONATE TO STRIKE FUNDS, SHOW UP TO PICKETS IF YOU CAN, and please do NOT boycott streaming services or movies in theaters.
3. influencers, content creators, cosplayers, and anything in between is still a bit of a grey area, but they’re asking people to use their best judgement. “organically” means UNPAID promo (like an invite to a premiere without being paid, being sent a publicity box, letting the company’s social media post a photo of you in cosplay, etc).
obviously this doesn’t answer every question, and isn’t hard and fast rules for fanworks, but it can at least inform how you personally choose to move forward when posting online and moving publically. i hope this helps!
“weird al is a quirky tumblr band” BRO EVERYBODY LIKES WEIRD AL
MY PARENTS LISTEN TO WEIRD AL, WEIRD AL’S PONYSONA STARTED A FAMILY WITH PINKIE PIE, I KNEW WEIRD AL PARODIES BEFORE KNOWING MOST OF THE ACTUAL SONGS HE WAS PARODYING, POLKA FACE DEFINED MY TWEEN YEARS
idc what you think of jack stauber or whatever acoustic song about sapphic pining is popular this month or what tiktok is taking out of context
IN WHAT WORLD IS WEIRD AL A QUIRKY ARTSY UNDERGROUND INTERNET EXPERIMENTAL MUSIC THING WHO THE FUCK ISNT LISTENING TO WEIRD AL
ALT
