Like…the reach people are making against Hilary like holy shit ya’ll
Any vote not for her will be for Trump, I’m sorry but that is how politics WORK. We have a two party system and this isn’t going to magically change. Plus you are literally splitting the party apart which is even worse for going against Trump.
Trump is dangerous. We can’t let him have a chance at office. Stop sulking and realize how dangerous this is holy shit.
I don’t like Hilary, can’t stand her on some prospects, but the idea of Trump winning literally terrifies me so.
sometimes i think about how much of our mass media portrays romantic relationships as grossly unhealthy (this is like, double true for married couples on TV) because apparently the only way to write ~drama into a relationship is to have them be assholes to each other and I just get so mad like, listen, do you know how many frickin fanfic writers can stretch mutual pining and self-sacrifice and putting the other person first and small acts of caring and utterly destroy their readers and keep us hooked for 100k? but the people getting paid for this shit think that petty insults and infidelity and fighting and one person treating the other like shit is what’s going to keep us interested?
okay, so, this isn’t a Hamilton lockscreen, but my friend asked for summaries of the tracks on Hamilton and I did them for her as Friends episode titles. she liked them and I guess I decided to share them with y'all? *laughs nervously*
1. alexander hamilton: the one with alexander hamilton’s tragic backstory
2. aaron burr, sir: the one where burr literally wants alex to shut the hell up
3. my shot: the one where alex shows off his lit squad
4. the story of tonight: the one where said lit squad sings about dying in the revolution
5. the schuyler sisters: the one where angelica shows aaron who’s boss
6. farmer refuted: the one where alex can’t take samuel’s bullshit any longer
7. you’ll be back: the one where king george laments the destruction of a lot of tea
8. right hand man: the one where george washington gives not one single crap about aaron
9. a winter’s ball: the one where the guys totally have game
10. helpless: the one where eliza falls in love with alexander
11. satisfied: the one where angelica regrets everything
12. the story of tonight (reprise): the one where alex’s lit squad misses out on some juicy aaron gossip
13. wait for it: the one with aaron’s tragic backstory
14. stay alive: the one where congress doesn’t do a thing and george appoints everyone general. except alex.
15. ten duel commandments: the one where john takes on lee in a duel and wins
16. meet me inside: the one where alex gets in deep shit
17. that would be enough: the one where eliza asks alex to stay
18. guns and ships: the one with lafayette’s very fast rap
19. history has its eyes on you: one time george screwed up big time and learned something
20. yorktown (the world turned upside down): the one where hercules mulligan is a bamf and they win the war
21. what comes next?: the one where they’re free from britain’s power. awesome. wow.
22. dear theodosia: the one where aaron and alex go on about how great their kids are
23. non-stop: the one where alex is unstoppable and there’s a really good medley of act 1 songs
24. what’d I miss: the one where thomas has zero idea what’s going on
25. cabinet battle #1: the one where alex pwns thomas’ smarmy ass in a rap battle
26. take a break: the one where alex refuses to go on vacation with eliza and angelica even after philip’s dope rap
27. say no to this: the one where alex is a complete idiot
28. the room where it happens: the one where aaron is 100000% jealous about not being included in anything fun
29. schuyler defeated: the one where aaron switches parties so he can actually do something
30. cabinet battle #2: the one where alex realizes that thomas and Lafayette look hella similar
31. washington on your side: the one where aaron, james and thomas are jealous that george only likes alex
32. one last time: the one where george is hella done with everything so george OUT. *mic drop*
33. I know him: the one where king george reveals that he loves the hunger games
34. the adams administration: SIT DOWN JOHN YOU FAT MOTHERF****R
35. we know: the one where alex is accused of doing something horrible and confesses to some other horrible thing to deny doing the first horrible thing
36. hurricane: the one where alex comes up with a stupid idea
37. the reynolds pamphlet: the one with said stupid idea
38. burn: the one where eliza is hella done
39. blow us all away: the one where Philip does something and alex is like ‘ok son here have some guns go to your duel (death)’
40. stay alive (reprise): the one where everyone learns how to count in French in the most heartbreaking way possible. emotional suicide.
41. it’s quiet uptown: the one where alex is horribly sad and wants eliza to forgive him. also emotional suicide.
42. the election of 1800: the one where alex comes out of his bubble of sadness to snub aaron one last time
43. your obedient servant: the one where alex and aaron throw a whole lot of passive aggressiveness around
44. best of wives and best of women: the one where alex literally hasn’t learned anything about duels and listening to eliza
45. the world was wide enough: the one where aaron realizes that he’s made a horrible mistake.
46. who lives, who dies, who tells your story: the one where it is revealed that eliza is the actual hero of the story
Contractions function almost identically to the full two-word phrase, but are only appropriate in some places in a sentence. It’s one of the weird quirks of this language we’ve.
Like “Mad Max” is essentially just a catchy franchise title, and the movies follow him because he’s a recognizable starting point. He literally tries to quit his job in the first movie. He never wants to be the protagonist. Leave him alone.
“He literally tries to quit his job in the first movie” as someone who has seen every Mad Max movie more than once, I can confirm this is true. Movie one is him realizing being the main character sucks, and every movie after that is him just being like “I don’t want to be here I don’t want to be here CAN I PLEASE LEAVE NOW.”
Which, tbh, makes him the most relatable male action movie protagonist ever.
All of Fury Road is Max basically going “I UNDERSTAND that shit is bad but I would like to LEAVE okay, like, shit, you can leave with me–ah, fuck, no, now they’re shooting at me, I JUST WANT TO GO. All right FINE I’ll do something productive and THEN I AM LEAVING.”
FN-2187 walked into a detention cell and removed a high level prisoner by saying, “Kylo Ren sent me” and none of the guards even thought to call and verify it. He then marched that prisoner through the corridors of a Star Destroyer and into a fighter bay passed a gaggle of officers and no one batted an eye.
But go on and tell me how Finn was just a janitor.
oh but now i’ve been thinking about this!
ok 1.) finn in before the awakening is literally at the top of his class, like phasma’s only beef with this dude is that he’s got too much empathy but other than that he’s a+ officer material in logistics, combat training, marksmanship, leadership, the whole shebang. so he’s probably trusted to know his shit and do his job. so if fn-2187 says ren wants the prisoner, then ren wants the prisoner. that makes perfect sense.
now the hangar tho, here me out: finn using the force. unconsciously, but we know jedi can pass unseen when they want/need to, and he’s so desperate to not get caught he’s probably thinking okay stay calm stay calm nothing to see here just a trooper trasnporting a prisoner nothing unusual here and it WORKS.
the idea that her paintings were representations of female genitalia was started in the 1920s, and it was an idea first presented by male art critics. she spent most of her career trying to disprove these ideas. they’re outdated, boring, and frankly, sexist. so can we stop acting like it’s edgy or somehow feminist, cause it’s not. male artists get to have their art seen through multifaceted lenses but female artists are often reduced to things like this.
wow i’m angry about this! every art history teacher i’ve ever had, even the women, talked about the ‘sensuality’ of her vagina flowers and straight up said that was like the point of them
Alright, so let’s talk about Sam Wilson for a minute. Just about Sam. Not Sam in terms of his relationship with Bucky; not Sam in terms of his relationship with Steve. Let’s talk about how Sam was vocally arguing against the Accords before Steve even opened his mouth to weigh in. Let’s talk about how Sam made his own decision based on his own experiences and beliefs. Let’s talk about how Sam was consistently committed to doing the right thing regardless of the cost to himself personally. Let’s talk about how Sam was the one who suggested that Team Cap give themselves up to ensure that Steve could find and stop Zemo. Let’s talk about how Sam made as much of an effort to save Rhodey as Tony did. Let’s talk about how Sam was the only person in the Raft to not give Tony any shit but instead asked him how Rhodey was doing. Let’s talk about how Sam understood that Team Iron Man had convictions of equal strength to his own and that while he didn’t agree, he did empathize with them.
Let’s just talk about how fucking awesome Sam Wilson is.
what originally started out as a safety plan for a friend, i’m gonna extend it to everyone else.
claim @imbloggingmyself as yours if u got a nosy parent (or anyone else). it’s 100% clean. no foul language, controversial issues, and is sfw in every way
its content is pretty general to suit most people’s interests even to slight degree: puns, (clean) funny stuff, animals, nature, cities, all that
plus it’s a cool inside joke because the header image is the Windows background and only 1 person has commented on this
id also like to add i set up a queue so it posts at random times every day so it doesn’t necessarily stick to one time zone/schedule
I also try to keep content unisex (so not a bunch of pink and flowers in case guys need this to be somewhat believable too)
Man history majors are so great because they know all this stuff but they have The One Subject and once you find out what a given history buff’s Subject is you will never be bored again because they will tell you all about it with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning
This is also more widely applicable.
For example: my roommate is a linguistics major. Her One True Subject is conlangs, and she can (and has) talked for multiple hours without slowing down. She’s gonna make a language and we’re going to run around yelling at each other in it, it’ll be fun.
I hate when comicbook fans gate-keep by running you through a fact-check quiz. Even if you’ve ready every comic you’re going to be wrong. Why? Because comics can’t even keep their shit together. Bruce’s parents were either killed outside of Mask of Zorro or an opera, their killer is either unknown or Joe Chill, he started as Batman at either 21, 26, 28 or 32. Barry has died six separate times and during several of his absences both Bart and Wally have been the Flash at the same time. Steve has given up Captain America due to anything from a minor cold, dying, wanting to retire and straight up disappearing. God forbid you ask how Tony got his heart.
The only thing we know for certain is that Uncle Ben died and it is always, always, always Superman’s fault that Lex no longer has hair
Apparently my director went to see a production of West Side Story a few years ago, and the guy playing Chino forgot his gun before coming out for his final scene. Once it got to the big scene where he is supposed to shoot Tony, he screeched “Poison Boots” and kicked the actor playing Tony until he went down. The girl playing Maria then had to jerk the shoe off of Chino’s foot, and had to do the gunshot scene asking “How many kicks Chino? How many kicks, and one kick left for me”.
There should be a blog dedicated to theatrical urban legends. Like that opening weekend of Dracula where Dracula (still hungover) vomited all over the audience during the first stage direction that everyone has a friend of a friend that worked on the show and was there.
or the one where the bridge never came out for Javert’s suicide and so he just pretended to stab himself and then lay there until the lights went out
best story i heard was when a friend of mine saw a show where juliet forgot to bring the dagger out on stage so she just ripped the squib out of her chest and blood squirted everywhere
During a passion play a friend of my brother was supposedly in, one of the roman soldiers who was supposed to stab jesus on the cross and accidentally grabbed the wrong spear- he was supposed to grab one with a fake tip, but instead he grabbed one with an actual metal tip and, well
Jesus screamed “JESUS CHRIST YOU STABBED ME”.
Since that Jesus had to be taken down due to a bad case of stab-itis, the backup Jesus came in, but he weighed significantly less than the original Jesus- which would have been fine, except that at the end the cross was supposed to ascend upwards with Jesus on it, and the weights hadn’t been adjusted.
So Jesus, instead, ROCKETED UP into heaven (or, just, above the stage).
This is wild from start to finish
I was in Peter Pan once and one night at a performance, the adhesive holding our Hook’s mustache on was wearing off. It was near the end with a big fight scene and when he got attacked, he let his mustache fall and went “YOU RIPPED MY MUSTACHE OFF!” in a scandalized tone and it added a new note of hilarity to the whole scene (which was supposed to be funny anyway)
In my seventh grade play, which was a midsummer night’s dream, Thisbe didn’t have a sword so she stabbed herself with a coathanger
My junior year we were doing Romeo and Juliet and after Juliet poisons herself it was supposed to go dark and she’d get off the stage. well the light crew accidentally turned them back on and Juliet who was sitting up slammed back down on the wooden bed with a loud bang. To which my theater teacher says into the com “zombie Juliet” and everyone who heard that had to keep as quiet as possible while our eyes were filling with tears.
i attended my county’s performing arts high school majoring in vocal studies, (mostly geared towards musical theater and opera styles) and once a year we got a field trip to new york (we were in jersey, so it’s not exactly far). we would do one touristy thing, an actor’s workshop with friends of our teachers working in various performing industries in nyc, and then see a show.
my first year doing this, our industry contacts were 1 actor, 1 casting director, and 1 producer to get different aspects of the business, and they all gave us amazing advice and told fantastic stories. the actor in question was Zazu on Broadway’s The Lion King for several years, and told the best story by far.
in The Lion King, there are only two pieces of pre-recorded noise in the whole show. one, when Pumbaa does a MASSIVE fart while fighting the hyenas, and the other being Mufasa saying REMEMBERRRRRR as Simba climbs Pride Rock. the actor told us while struggling not to laugh that, during one night’s performance, someone forgot to flip the tape of these pre-recorded noises.
so, at the end of the show, the great climax where Simba finally accepts his place in the Circle of Life, the heavens parted and-
everyone froze. and then all ran off stage positively HOWLING with laughter.
the lesson: sometimes there are fuck ups you just can’t recover from.
During a high school production of Beauty and the Beast, where I was assistant costumer and assistant prop master, our director decided that we needed to spice up Gaston’s introduction. You know: in the movie, when Lefou runs in trying to catch the duck/goose that Gaston has just shot out of the sky?
Originally, the actors were going to stroll on stage with our Lefou hauling in the really neat (and real!) taxidermied deer head that we had found in a local thrift store. Now, two days before opening night, our director wants Lefou to run in from off stage and catch a stuffed duck that Gaston has just shot. This, of course, requires two things to work properly as a scene: a gunshot noise, and a stuffed duck.
The gunshot noise, we had covered. Blue-collar, redneck school? Guns a plenty to record. The stuffed duck? Harder than you might have thought to obtain.
Three hunting stores, two taxidermists, and one Pet Supply Store ™, I’d finally found a semi-realistic pheasant squeaky toy. What follows is an account of the ways this dog toy managed to be the nightmare prop of the six show run.
Opening Night: The stagehand, who was supposed to drop the bird from the ceiling catwalk, missed his cue and didn’t drop the it. Lefou’s actor rolls with it and does an excellent job of looking around foolishly before getting cuffed upside the head by Gaston. The stagehand then drops the bird squarely on Gaston’s head. Cue laughter.
Saturday Matinee: Different stagehand throws the bird instead of dropping it and beans Lefou directly in the face with the prop. Lefou falls over. Cue laughter.
Saturday Night: Bird is missing during curtain call. Director hauls the deer head down from it’s place on the tavern wall and tells Gaston and Lefou to revert to the old blocking i.e. no gunshot, no bird, just walk in with trophy. During Gaston and Lefou’s conversation, gun shot sound goes off and a stagehand throws the bird onto the stage…from the wrong side of the stage. Lefou and Gaston stare at it in awkward silence for a solid thirty seconds before Lefou makes off-script, subtle joke about Gaston’s gun going off late instead of early. Cue adults in the audience laughing.
Sunday Matinee: Director begs the stagehands to get the cue right at least once. Gunshot and bird prop go off without a hitch. Lefou accidentally catches the prop when it falls from the catwalk. He’s so startled that he caught it that Gaston runs right in to him. They drop both the gun and the bird props, and grab the wrong prop in their scramble. Gaston spends the rest of the scene gesturing dramatically with a stuffed pheasant, instead of a gun.
Sunday Night:
Director is fed up with bird prop, decides that Lefou should just carry bird prop in after gunshot happens off stage. Lefou accidentally squeezes the prop during the intro conversation, startling both actors into silence with the squeaky toy noise - apparently, neither of them realized it was a dog toy.
Monday Elementary School Show: Lefou walks on stage with the bird. Accidentally drops the prop during conversation with Gaston. Gaston doesn’t notice the dropped prop and steps on it. Cue depressingly sad squeaky toy noise. Cue ten years olds laughing.
In a dress rehearsal for Peter Pan, Wendy forgot one of her lines and started singing the star spangled banner and the audience was singing along and people got emotional
Once during the closing night of our high school production of south pacific, we were havin our pre-show pep talk, and our director reminded everyone (mostly seniors) not to go off script to try to be funny. Of course we had one lead who decided to ignore this advice. So during one scene where the sailors were “fishing” at the edge of the stage, he decides to pull up his rubber fish, make a comment about how it wasn’t big enough, and throw it back into the “ocean”, which of course, was the audience.
Now, this probably wouldn’t have been too much of a problem if he had gently tossed it, since it would have landed right behind the pit. But naturalt, he decided that this fish had to break free in the most dramatic way possible, so he winds up and chucks this fucking foot-long rubber fish with all of his strength.
So now imagine the stage crew, all of us huddled together, silently screaming as this limp fish goes sailing over the heads of the audience in what looks like a low-budget reenactment of free willy, only to slap some poor parent across the face.
I swear, you could almost hear the chorus of “mmmm whatcha saaayyy” rising from all those backstage.
From that moment on, all rubber fish were ferociously guarded by yours truly, under the direction of our stage manager.
This post gets better every time it shows up on my dash
My Junior year of high school our drama club put on Peter Pan,which involved the construction of a small boat fashioned out of scrap wood,plaster and an old wagon. A few of the actors who were cast as pirates had to ride the boat-wagon down the aisle to the front of the theatre,which had a concrete floor that sloped. About halfway down the brake they were using to control their speed gave out,and they crashed into the front of the stage at high speed.The entire boat imploded. The actors just sat there in silence for at least a full 10 seconds in the midst of the wreckage before my friend Adena screamed “ABANDON SHIP” and they all jumped out and took off running.
My school once did a parody of Cinderella and I was Cinderellas dog. At one point Cinderella, the Fairy Godmother, and the dog had to flea the ball. I thought going down the stage steps wasn’t dramatic enough for “fleeing” so I launched myself off the stage and landed painfully in the center isle about three rows in accompanied with a very, very loud thump of face on concrete where I laid there like a dead fish for a while. At this point Cinderella and the Fairy Godmother got to me, not knowing what to do they stepped over me and continued running. But Cinderella had forgotten to loose her shoe so half way out of the room she chucked it back where it hit me in the head. I bolted upright and ran shrieking hysterically out of the room. A moment later the Prince came down to where the shoe was picked it up, looked dramatically at where I had exited and said “I hope that dog’s okay.” completely forgetting his line.
This may be my all time favorite post.
I was once in a production of “Hello Dolly!” and the two leads were complete jokers and would prank each other during rehearsals all the time. The rest of the cast never thought they would do that during a show, but they told the chorus (separately) that they each were planning to add some tongue into the final kiss between Dolly and Horace. Of course, we told neither of them about the other’s plan, so during the very last show, we were all waiting in the wings to see what would happen. What happened was we ended the show with the two leads violently frenching each other on stage as the curtain dropped. They started dating two weeks later.
Last year we did “Once Upon a Mattress” and the jester was supposed to do a somersault off of a stack of like 3 mattresses and then the minstrel and Lady Larken would be covered up with a blanket, but during one show the jester knocked down one of the mattresses and we had no time to fix it so we had to throw the mattress on top of them
On the spring show my friend was in the person who was playing Lysander (I think?) was supposed to do his,“though she is but little, she is fierce speech” and he forgot his ENTIRE monologue and there was a moment of dead silence before he just says,“BUT I LOVE YOU!” and just walks off stage
Tears in my eyes
My Broadway producer friends once told me a story about the eponine at the time. Everyone loves to snack on candy back stage and this girl decided to put skittles in her pockets. She went on for “Little Fall of Rain” and while she was dying in Marius’s arms, the skittles slowly started to trickle out of her pocket.
We were doing a modern version of Lysistrata, and at one point one of the husbands is supposed to toss his infant child (a doll we had swaddled in a blanket) up in the air, and his attendant was supposed to catch it, sneer back at him, and walk off stage. Well, during one of the performances, the actor tossed the baby waaaaaaay too hard, so the assistant DOVE to catch it, landing with a loud THUD that echoed throughout the theater, and slid part way off stage with a loud “squeeeeeaaaaaak.” The rest of us, waiting in the wing, grabbed his shoulders (which fortunately did make it off stage) and continued to drag him back, all while trying not to lose our shit.
My favorite will always be the production of The Diary of Anne Frank that was so bad, that when the Nazis showed up at the end, people in the audience screamed “They’re in the attic!”
During a dress rehearsal for the wizard of oz, oz forgot where he put his bag, which was supposed to hold all the ‘gifts’ for Tin Man, Lion, and Scarecrow. So his solution was to stuff the gifts into the waistband of his poofy green pants and hope for the best.
When it came time for him to pass out the gifts, it turned out that while he was walking, the gifts had slid down his pants. So he had to reach his arm down his pants to pull out the gifts, which was already bad enough, but since he had no bag, Dorothy felt the need to change her line to fit the situation.
Which resulted in a seventh grader saying: “Oh, I don’t think he has anything in those pants for me.”
“There’s one big difference between the poor and the rich,” Kite says, taking a drag from his cigarette. We are in a pub, at lunch-time. John Kite is always, unless stated otherwise, smoking a fag, in a pub, at lunch-time.
“The rich aren’t evil, as so many of my brothers would tell you. I’ve known rich people – I have played on their yachts – and they are not unkind, or malign, and they do not hate the poor, as many would tell you. And they are not stupid - or at least, not any more than the poor are. Much as I find amusing the idea of a ruling class of honking toffs, unable to put their socks on without Nanny helping them, it is not true. They build banks, and broker deals, and formulate policy, all with perfect competency.
No – the big difference between the rich and the poor is that the rich are blithe. They believe nothing can every really be so bad. They are born with the lovely, velvety coating of blitheness – like lanugo, on a baby – and it is never rubbed off by a bill that can’t be paid; a child that can’t be educated; a home that must be left for a hostel, when the rent becomes too much.
Their lives are the same for generations. There is no social upheaval that will really affect them. If you’re comfortably middle-class, what’s the worst a government policy could do? Ever? Tax you at 90% and leave your bins, unemptied, on the pavement. But you and everyone you know will continue to drink wine – but maybe cheaper – go on holiday – but somewhere nearer – and pay off your mortgage – although maybe later.
Consider, now, then, the poor. What’s the worst a government policy can do to them? It can cancel their operation, with no recourse to private care. It can run down their school – with no escape route to a prep. It can have you out of your house and in a B&B by the end of the year. When the middle classes get passionate about politics, they’re arguing about their treats - their tax-breaks and their investments. When the poor get passionate about politics, they’re fighting for their lives.
Politics will always mean more to the poor. Always. That’s why we strike and march, and despair when our young say they won’t vote. That’s why the poor are seen as more vital, and animalistic. No classical music for us – no walking around National Trust properties, or buying reclaimed flooring. We don’t have nostalgia. We don’t do yesterday. We can’t bare it. We don’t want to be reminded of our past, because it was awful: dying in mines, and slums, without literacy, or the vote. Without dignity. It was all so desperate, then. That’s why the present and the future is for the poor - that’s the place in time for us: surviving now, hoping for better, later. We live now - for our instant, hot, fast treats, to pep us up: sugar, a cigarette, a new fast song on the radio.
You must never, never forget, when you talk to someone poor, that it takes ten times the effort to get anywhere from a bad post-code. It’s a miracle when someone from a bad post-code gets anywhere, son. A miracle they do anything at all.”—
A rant about the divide between the rich and the poor from “How To Build a Girl” by Caitlin Moran (via itsalljustvapourtrails)
“When the rich get passionate about politics, they’re arguing about treats. When the poor get passionate about politics, they are fighting for the lives.”
if you are an eligible voter in the US this coming election and bernie sanders does not have the democratic nomination
you. have. to. vote. for. hillary.
i am not fucking messing around
i am not gonna sit here while you write in names or go on some fucking strike. hillary is not on the same level as donald trump. all of you who act like that’s a hard choice are ridiculous. you vote for hillary clinton if she gets the primary. if you don’t, you give trump the presidency. clear and simple. normally i would not advocate against writing in names, but at this point writing in names would take away from hillary’s vote if she is the nominee–EVEN IF YOU WRITE IN BERNIE SANDERS, YOU GIVE TRUMP A HIGHER CHANCE AT THE PRESIDENCY, AND YOU DON’T WANT THAT.
not even a year ago y’all were laughing about donald trump. don’t fuck this up. in no world is hillary clinton as bad as donald trump.
Who wants to hear my latest story of being a fucking disaster?
All right, so, here’s the deal: I’m pre-med, just finished my junior year of college, and, like a fucking moron I thought that I could maybe trust that, y’know, literally anyone in the department at my school would have realized that I do not actually know everything. In fact, I often don’t even know what I don’t know, and therefore am often in a position of, A, flying completely blind, B, bordering on a panic attack, and, C, totally unable to even start doing research in order to resolve my ignorance.
Why does this currently matter?
So, the deadline for the medical school app (yeah, there’s just the one, apparently, and they send it to the schools you want them to send it to) turns out to be October 13th.
That means that I need to take the MCATs at such a time that I’ll have the grades by October 13th, meaning that I need to take it in early September (because then the grades will be out on October 12th), which means that instead of having a significant part of next semester to study, I have this summer.
Now. I also have an internship this summer. A very intensive internship eight hours from my home. An entirely research-based internship that I only signed up for after my…everyone spent months talking me into it. After my organic chemistry teacher spent an entire semester talking me into it. I do not have time to intensively study for the MCATs during this internship, but I guess I’m going to have to fucking make do because I will not retain information through a gap year. If someone had thought for one second to talk to me about the MCAT thing, this all would have been very different. Given that it actually never came up, I did not even begin to realize the size of this critical gap in my knowledge.
You know, I have trust issues and I know it, and I have trust issues with teachers and authority figures specifically, but somehow every once in a while I get comfortable enough or stupid enough (fuck if I can tell the difference anymore) to think they’re actually going to take care of me. And then I am suddenly and viciously reminded of the fact that this always happens and I shouldn’t be surprised anymore and yet somehow I always am. I expect teachers to punish me for things that aren’t my fault or leave me to handle a physical threat without help–hell, I even expect teachers to punish me for handling a threat to my safety. But for some goddamn reason I always fool myself into thinking that somehow they’re going to help me with shit like this.
If you find a bunch of bones that are A: untouched and B: supernaturally clean, there is definitely a reason for both of those things. Sometimes that reason is ants. Sometimes those ants are fire ants. Sometimes those fire ants have made a nest over the entire three meter area around those bones
Sounds like someone had an adventure with fire ants
hey man i haven’t seen a single similar post (concerning???) so i feel like it’s important to make this.
tomorrow is ramadan. your eating disorder will not magically disappear in ramadan.
allah will not hate you if you relapse in ramadan. be it that you faint or you binge, if you need to break your fast because of your eating disorder THEN YOU BREAK YOUR FAST.
You are not supposed to fast when you are sick. YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO FAST WHEN YOU ARE SICK. IT IS HARAM TO FAST IF YOU ARE SICK BECAUSE IT BRINGS HARM TO YOUR BODY. If you start feeling horribly sick and you know, you haven’t had sufficient suhoor or iftar for a few days or anything of the sort, it is okay to break your fast and even go to the hospital if you need to.
habaybi that have eating disorders, PLEASE take care of yourself during ramadan. It is a month of cleansing and forgiveness, so forgive yourself if you relapse. You can always redo your fast after ramadan.
Jazakallah please reblog this post and ramadan mubarak to you all! ♡
Little reminder for my Muslim pals and followers. Please be kind to your bodies and remember to take care of yourselves this ramadan!
I just learned that some websites use cookies to adjust prices. That is, if you visit a certain website a lot the price will increase.
You can tell if that’s the case by checking the same web page on a different browser if you have a different number of stored cookies for that site. I checked something on Chegg and it was $14.95 on Chrome, $19.95 on Firefox, and $16.95 on Safari.
gaelic:
the pronounciation changes depending on the gender and what letter the word starts and ends with and hahah i dont even know good fucking luck
polish:
here have all of these consonants have fun
japanese:
subject article noun article verb. too bad there's three fucking alphabets lmao hope your first language isn't western
welsh:
sneeze, and chances are you've got it right. idfk
chinese:
here's a picture. draw it. it means something. it can be pronounced four different ways. these twenty other pictures are pronounced the same but have very different meanings. godspeed.
arabic:
so here's this one word. it actually translates to three words. also pronouns don't really exist. the gender is all in the verb. have fun!
latin:
here memorize 500 charts and then you still dont know what the fuck is happening
sign language:
If you move this sign by a tenth of an inch, you'll be signing "penis"
russian:
idk man its pronounced like its spelt but good fucking luck spelling it
Greek:
so basically we're going to add 15 syllables to every word you know and assign it one of 3 genders at random. Also good luck figuring out where to put the accents you piece of shit
czech:
so there is a word. there are 14 fucking forms of that word. also there are actually 42 forms. and here's a verb. there are actually only 3 tenses but who am i kidding, there is more and i don't even fucking know how many. the verb changes depending on one's gender. also you can change verb into a noun. that noun has its own gender. you can change any word into a noun and that noun will have its own fucking gender because who cares, only 10 million people can speak with it. also you have to inflect all words. adjectives. names. pronouns. idefk. when you call someone, you fucking have to inflect that name. we also have a letter that almost no foreigner can pronounce. and good luck, even we don't friggin know how to write. also you can say a completely innocent sentence and it could be understood sexually because our slang doesn't fucking make sense. good fucking luck fuckers.
azerbaijanian:
we ain't got any gender conception but you have at least 4256234523 different suffixes that you should add to every word and get it right in order make any sense. it can be double, triple or even more and you should get the right order and adjust it to the last vowel of your word. you should also re-learn the latin alphabet with a different pronunciation + additionally "ə, ğ, ı, ö, ü" in order to be able to speak.
That One Unnamed Extinction Event That Happened When Blue-Green Algae Discovered Photosynthesis and Started Pumping the Environment Full of Oxygen, Which Was Toxic to All Other Life on Earth at That Point in Time
This extinction event did result in the extinction of more living organisms than any other, whether you rank by number of individuals, number of orders/genera/species, % of life, or amount of biomass, but they were all single-celled organisms, so they don’t even register on the metal scale.
The Current Slow Slide Due to Anthropogenic Environmental Modification
Habitat destruction isn’t very metal.
Late Devonian
Some super-weird shit died out, which is totally metal, but we have no idea why, which isn’t. It might not even have been an extinction event, just a decrease in the speciation rate. Jawed vertebrates totally unaffected.
End Ordovician
Second-largest extinction event after the End Permian (not counting those blue-green algae fuckers). Caused by tectonic plate shifting (kinda metal) and resulting glaciation (mildly metal).
Deep Impact
Pros: Giant asteroid hitting the earth.
Cons: Fictional.
End Triassic
Probably caused by massive volcanic eruptions, which is pretty metal, but mostly just wiped out some weird looking amphibians, which is only mildly metal.
End Permian
Greatest extinction event of all time (with the exception of that blue-green algae fiasco mentioned above), wiping out ~95% of all species: metal. Only known mass extinction of insects: metal. Probably caused by the biggest volcanic eruptions since life began (metal) which ignited massive coal beds (metal) and caused the release of methane from the ocean floor (metal) resulting in a runaway greenhouse effect that raised the average ocean temperature to 40C for several million years, essentially boiling the earth alive (super metal). Paved the way for dinosaurs to take over the earth: metal. Known as the ‘Great Dying’: totally metal.
However, most of the extinctions occurred in sessile marine organisms, which are way too boring to be metal, and for the first ~20 million years after the extinction event, land was dominated by Lystrosaurus, which is the most un-metal looking reptile you can think of.
End Cretaceous, aka the K-T Event
A GIANT FLAMING BALL OF ROCK HIT THE EARTH AND KILLED ALL THE (non-avian) DINOSAURS. ENOUGH SAID.
I agree with most of this post (I’d swap Permian/Cretaceous because the Permian was freakin’ metal, yo, but no biggie) but you don’t get more metal than the GREAT OXYGEN CATASTROPHE
The entire surface of the earth was POISONED by a GAS that SHOULD NOT EXIST according to the basic LAWS OF THERMODYNAMICS
It’s so metal that even billions of years later Earth has had to evolve entire ecosystems that METABOLIZE DEADLY POISON GAS. And survive by EATING EACH OTHER (which was probably not a thing pre-OXYGEN HOLOCAUST, you don’t need to bother eating each other if you aren’t trying to survive in a world full of IMPOSSIBLE DEADLY GAS.) Earth’s original inhabitants now have to eke out an existence in sealed-off channels in SOLID ROCK and similar places.
THAT IS AS METAL AS IT GETS.
(also there’s the nuclear fission reactions and stuff, that part’s fun. Did the dinosaurs have nuclear fission? NO.)
For @littlestartopaz: Rogue/anyone really, with AN (“Have I
entered an alternate universe or did you just crack a smile for me?”) from this
post
Remy
LaBeau, it’s gonna be Remy La-Fucking-Beau, because I am shipper trash and
Rogue/Gambit is my hill to die on, y’all.
Also, since Rogue’s life sucks PRETTY BAD, I’m going to try to write
actual fluff tonight. This could be
almost any continuity—I’m kind of visualizing the potential future of the MacAvoy,
Fassbender, et. al. movies, because I saw Apocalypse twice in a week and
that’ll do stuff to you. I don’t really
like writing out accents, so feel free to mentally sub them in—Rogue’s from
Mississippi, Remy’s from New Orleans, in case you didn’t know.
“Oh m’God, who’s
cooking, that is amazing,” Rogue
called as she swept into the mansion and was hit by a wall of smoky-sweet warmth
spilling from the kitchen. “Is that jambalaya? Am I gonna have to do extra Danger Room
sessions or somethin’ for that?”
“That depends, ma chérie,” the man at the stove said,
turning and shooting her a smirk.
“What’re you prepared to do?”
Alternate Fantasy: All the WIP I'm patiently waiting for updates on get updated, the authors have great weeks, feel good and are showered with material blessings that allow them the time and energy to write more.
REBLOG TO SPREAD THE ULTIMATE FANDOM BLESSING TO YOUR PEOPLE, MY CHILDREN.
Let’s play a game. Type the following words into your tags box, then post the first automatic tag that comes up. you, also, what, when, why, how, look, because, never
i’m fucking cackling people are boycotting the sims 4 because they removed the gender barriers and 99% of randomly generated sims will now no longer fit in the gender binary like i cannot believe pixel trans people are ruining a game about a bunch of mixed race bisexual people screaming and setting plates of pasta on fire
it is a good day on the planet earth
All right but for just one second let’s consider the math here (note: I haven’t played the new Sims, and am just working from what I’ve gathered on the internet). There are four options, yeah? Each of them have two possible answers. That gives 2^4, or 16, possible configurations, with no regard for what the configurations are. Assume that one of those gives you ‘all masculine (your basic cis dudebro)’ and another one gives you 'all feminine (your basic cis sorority chick),’ and that every single one of them is equally probable. That gives you 2 in 16, or 1 in 8 (12.5%), Sims fitting the gender binary.
That’s way more representation than transgender people get in TV (less than 1%).
Now let’s take into consideration that one of those categories (clothing preference) has no impact on the actual gender of your Sim. That adds two more categories of cis characters: the cis man rockin’ a skirt and eyeliner, and the cis woman crushing it in a three-piece suit and a cropped haircut. Okay, now there are 4 possible arrangements of a cis Sim, making it 4 in 16, 2 in 8, or 1 in 4 (25%).
That percentage is almost half of the percentage of trans people who have attempted or committed suicide (between 40% and 50%).
So, uh…speaking as a cis person, I think everyone can just shut up and enjoy the spacious new vistas of Sim life, yeah?
listen secret magical creature heritage au’s may be cliche and overused but they are my JAM
you can’t tell me Luna didn’t have some sort of fae background. or parseltongue didn’t come from the nagas. or the Malfoy’s didn’t have veela blood. or the Weasley’s didn’t come from fire sprites. or the Pervell brothers weren’t necromancers. because I assure you this is 100% canon. fight me.
(What are you even suggesting, this is totally canon. Anyone who wants to get to you will have to fight me first. Bring it.)
It’s fairly obvious if you know what to look for. Unfortunately, so few people do, not realizing that person does not necessarily mean human. But perhaps this is inevitable, given that most nonhumans are dead, elsewhere, or intensely and viciously private nowadays.
A younger humankind would have laughed at the idea of “pure blood”. If anyone human-shaped was pure, then it was the purely nonmagical humans. Mud Men, many nonhumans affectionately called the tenacious people.
Goodness gracious, where did people think magical blood came from in the first place? The term mudblood? And if you wanted to call a pure elf or fae a creature or a beast, then it was a good idea to dig your own grave first. Save everyone else the trouble.
But that was then… and this is now. Now, you often must watch closely.
Lucius
Malfoy, for example, is not a terrifying difficult puzzle. One only has
to look up the family tree to find their French origins and relation to
many prominent Veela clans there. Although, that is perhaps more
difficult than it sounds, as the Malfoys have “fixed” all their copies
and buried the rest deep in unmarked graves.
But, watching
closely… the hair and general preening suggested quite clearly,
accompanied by a certain slant to the jaw and elegance to the limbs.
Along with how the man could lure many a Ministry official into
agreements with seamless charm and smooth smiles. And also in the way
his handsome face will twist into something terrible in anger, his hands clenching like claws, flexing with half-remembered fire and talons.
When
Lucius Malfoy cares for the peacocks at Malfoy Manor, when nobody is
watching, he will cluck and coo at them. And they will answer him.
Veelas have their own origins, after all, in the avian set of magical
creatures.
On the other hand, while Narcissa is loyal to her husband, the Black family has their own hidden nonhuman origins.
She
is much more of a lurker than dear bloodthirsty Bella, waiting for the
right moment to strike from the shadows, much like viciously protective
Andromeda - they are more scavengers than predator, the younger two.
Though none the less cruel or dark. None the less protective of their nest.
Narcissa
is quiet, unlike the howls of hateful Walburga, much like the silent
judgement of cold Orion or the creeping calculation of young Regulus.
Entirely unlike the brash swipes and territorial snarls of Sirius, who
is more familiar with lurking in shadows and striking for blood than he
will ever be comfortable with.
They are so similar, yet so
different. What they are has many names, bogeymen is one; they are the
brothers and sisters of all the necromantic (and some of the demonic,
too), and they come in so many kinds.
Luna Lovegood is
another simple puzzle - that she is practically made of thousands of
clues is answer enough. That she can see things and creatures and the
invisible sorts that most can’t is almost the only clue you need. Fae
are a rather insular bunch, after all, and few have the Sight to looking
for the Fair Folk or the way their Worlds weave together.
But
as for the little clues, well… the girl’s heritage is in the
vegetables in her ears, the odd-sounding sentences and introductions,
and the used bottlecaps around her throat. It’s from the inverted
reading of everything… to the visiting of Thestrals in bare feet and
with both an apple and a strip of flesh as offering.
Little things, odd things, but important things.
There
are certain Safe Ways of dealing with the world, you see - a certain
way to go about doing things. Like tossing salt over your shoulder if
you spill it, never breaking a mirror, and not intruding on Fairy Forts
for anything. Luck has to be worked for, and a smart fae follows
traditions and pays attention when their ears burn. Listening to omens
like owls and robins and black cats can save a life. (Luna didn’t know to be listening then, she regrets it now.)
And
it’s too faint to see, but when she skips, she hovers for a
split-second before she falls. Somewhere deep in Luna Lovegood,
something is singing a half-remembered warble… of wings made of
gossamer and glass turned flesh.
Weasleys, on the other hand,
are an interesting matter, especially with the introduction of the
Prewetts. Weasleys come from a curious line of creature, literally quite
curious, and… well… quite
weasel-like in appearance, as opposed to the avian origins of Veela. But
Prewetts… Prewetts were born of fire - fire sprites, elementals,
somewhere between nature spirit and demon, spiteful and fierce and warm
and hot.
One would need the right machinery to see it,
but it can be felt perfectly fine when a child of Molly Weasley gets
angry. The air around them gets quite warm. And they turn quite red,
which clashes horribly with their hair, which is sign in itself, really.
Quite a temper, fire has, if you poke it.
For those who can
see it and are paying attention, Ginny Weasley’s hair rises slightly
when she’s furious, and her tomato-red ears give off the faintest of
sparks. Luna doesn’t mention it though, because it’s not very polite to
point out that sort of thing. She does, however, note with some interest
that Ron’s do the same, after she meets him.
Harry Potter,
the infamous Boy Who Lived, is… a bit strange. He’s hard to pin down,
honestly, almost impossible. When he flies, one might suspect something
born of wind or something born with wings. When he fights, one might
suspect something animalistic, something extremely loyal and fierce, and
maybe a bit mean when provoked out of gentle contentment. Or maybe
something powerful, something truly sorcerous or maybe demonic.
He
hisses like a naga, he’s got eyes between nymph and necromantic, and he
acts sometimes… elvish in demeanor… house-elvish. It’s hard to
tell, honestly. Who knows? He certainly doesn’t.
Hermione
Granger, while on the subject of the three friends, is actually
incredibly obvious. That truly fearsome intelligence? That offensive
temper, that righteous determination, that jealous pride, that cruel
vindictiveness when crossed? That affinity for fire? That near hoarding of
as much knowledge as she can reach? A tad insecure, but the young ones
are always easily upset, and the kindness and crusading isn’t at all a
dealbreaker.
Oh, wouldn’t the so-called “purebloods” be
surprised? But, then again, many forget that fire hides under the earth.
And the riddling, terribly clever kind of dragons aren’t really around
anymore. The rare few that remain, however, always tend to be such book-wyrms.
Like the mudblood girl’s,
Tom Marvolo Riddle’s naga heritage was well-hidden. First behind his
handsome nonmagical father’s face, then behind the mutations and
corrupting magic of the Horcruxes.
He shouldn’t have tried to
get rid of most of his “Muggleness” when he resurrected himself, if he
had wanted to keep a human appearance. The faint scales of scales on his
skin and slits of his eyes are entirely his own fault - the ancient
naga blood wasn’t enough to create something less unnatural and
ill-suited to exist. Voldemort was always cold, wherever he went.
“Purity”
of magic and of witches and wizards, my friends, is such a laughable
thing. “Pure blood”? Goodness gracious, what a joke.
““Your generation would probably ‘livetweet’ the apocalypse” you say, and you laugh
You mean it as an insult, and I understand,
Or you don’t
because the word lies awkwardly on you tongue, stumbles as it leaves your lips, air quotes visible
You meant it as an insult, so you don’t understand, when I look into your eyes and say “Yes”
Because we would.
It would be our duty, as citizens on this earth
to document it’s end the best way we know
and if that means a second by second update
of the world going up in flames, or down in rain, or crushed under the feet of invading monsters
so be it.
It would mean a second by second update of
“I love you”
“I’m scared”
“Are you all right?”
“Stay close”
“Be brave”
It would mean a second by second update of the humanity’s connection with one another,
Proof of empathy, love, and friendship between people who may have never met in the flesh.
So don’t throw the word ‘Livetweet’ at me like a dagger, meant to tear at my ‘teenage superiority’
Because if the citizens of Pompeii, before they were consumed by fire,
had a chance to tell their friends and family throughout Rome
“I love you”
“I’m scared”
“Don’t forget me”
Don’t you think they’d have taken the chance?”—Sometimes it hurts when people scorn internet cultre (via azurelunatic)
