Anyways the most savage joke Andy Samberg’s ever done was that one time at the spirit awards the year all these racist ding dongs werent bothering to pronounce Quvenzhane Wallis’s name right and he spent the whole night hosting it pronouncing her name perfectly (including but not limited to opening his speech with saying that she’s one of his all-time favorite performers) and seemingly obliviously calling Paul Rudd “Paool Rood”
To any suicidal followers I may have: This is a sign to not kill yourself. You are loved and the world is special because you are in it. Keep holding on.
In a footnote to a May 10, 2005, memorandum from the Office of Legal Council, the Bush attorney general’s office argued that restricting the caloric intake of terrorist suspects to 1000 calories a day was medically safe because people in the United States were dieting along those lines voluntarily.
“While detainees subject to dietary manipulation are obviously situated differently from individuals who voluntarily engage in commercial weight-loss programs, we note that widely available commercial weight-loss programs in the United States employ diets of 1000 kcal/day for sustain periods of weeks or longer without requiring medical supervision,” read the footnote. “While we do not equate commercial weight loss programs and this interrogation technique, the fact that these calorie levels are used in the weight-loss programs, in our view, is instructive in evaluating the medical safety of the interrogation technique.”
Another another friendly reminder that the Minnesota Starvation Experiment subjected adult men who were VOLUNTEERS to 1,560 calorie diets and the psychological effects were so profound that one volunteer cut three of his own fingers off and could not remember why.
These men were volunteers who knew exactly what they would be going through and when it would end, and who believed they were doing it for a good and moral reason (the research was used to help rehabilitate victims of starvation and famine at the end of WWII).
And these are the things we are expected to engage in FOREVER to stay at a “healthy” weight.
Reading about the Minnesota Starvation experiment was my wake-up call. It was what kicked me out of my eating disorder. The guy missing three fingers, whatever his name was, he was the last straw for me.
Scared me so fucking bad I stopped restricting my food that day, and never went back to it.
WOW.
I deeply, deeply regret my time counting calories and points.
hello, have you ever read the farseer trilogy by robin hobb?
I have not! Is it good? Do you recommend it? Is there magic? Details, mon ami, I am curious. A cursory Google search reveals assassins, assassins are good.
Bilbo: owns a sensible car that he drives at twice the speed limit through residentials, while Thorin braces himself with a hand on the ceiling, a hand on the dash, and a foot propped up next to it. Lobelia puts up a sign in her neighborhood that says “DRIVE LIKE YOUR KIDS LIVE HERE THAT MEANS YOU BILBO BAGGINS” and Bilbo texts her at a red light a reminder that he doesn’t have any children, thank you. When he adopts Frodo, he slows down a tad to just a quarter over the speed limit, unless Bilbo gets caught up telling one of his stories. He’s been clocked going over one hundred on the road back from Bree; his only defense was that, “The part with the trolls always does get me riled up.”
Thorin: drives ten miles below the speed consistently and obliviously while Bilbo slowly dies from the agony of it in the passenger seat, except when someone cuts him off at which point Thorin tailgates them for miles. His radio presets all lead to static because he’s owned his car for about two decades, and set up the radio stations in his old hometown. He never changes them: he knows that sooner or later he is going back.
Thranduil: owns a fancy sports car that in theory has a backseat and in reality comfortably fits exactly him and maybe one passenger who is still badly hunched over in shotgun (really discourages Legolas from bringing friends home from school). Speeds all the time. Has received multiple speeding tickets for the exact same stretch of road, which he pays and then continues to speed. The local traffic cops all know him and hate him and realize that he funds like a quarter of their operating budget.
Bard: owns a truck. Helps people move with his truck. Is too nice to say no even though he hates helping people move with his truck. When his kids are in the car, he drives exactly the speed limit. When he’s alone, he zips down the road at 14 mph above the speed limit because 15 is the point at which it’s reckless endangerment. He hasn’t gotten a ticket in years though. Most cops like him except the ones that don’t, and the ones that don’t always have the most obvious speed traps. Bard likes to roll through them at exactly the right speed. He nods at Alfrid as he does.
Samwise Gamgee: drives his grandfather’s old motorcycle which is older than Sam himself. It does not pass any emissions tests. It has extremely difficulty going up hills. But it always gets to the top, as Sam cheerfully reminds Mr Frodo, who rides in the little sidecar that Sam’s Gaffer used to transport his bulldog around. Frodo wears a helmet and googles. Sam keeps shouting over the roar of the engine if Frodo is doing alright , which is a nice sentiment that Frodo absolutely cannot hear.
Merry and Pippin: are not allowed to drive anymore. Not after The Incident. But it’s fine because they have plenty of friends who are happy to give them rides, or at least willing to give them rides, or are going to give them rides regardless of their feelings on the matter. Merry and Pippin are masters of the aux cord though. You never drive to better jams than when they are riding with you. It even makes up for all the times they say they just need a ride to a friend’s house and they make you take them to their weed man.
Elrond: arranges the neighborhood carpools. Is not sure how this became his job.
Eowyn: drives a big goddamn truck with a hitch for horses in the back. When men try to tell her how to park it (and men are always trying to tell her how to park it) she stares them down until they slink away. She’s got a lot of old country CDs on constant rotation; she likes hauling the truck up hills to the sounds of the great women of the Grand Ole Opry. She ends up stealing her uncle’s motorcycle from his garage and roaring out of town on it without a helmet is one of those stupid things she’s sorry she waited so long to do.
Boromir: drives an SUV his dad bought for him. Ends up ferrying a lot of hobbits in it. Will never start driving until he’s sure they are all buckled up.
Faramir: owns a smart car because it’s fuel efficient, compact, and easy to park in the city. His father refuses to let him park it in front of his house. Eowyn thinks it’s sweet, even if it is a pain in the ass to try to makeout in the back seat.
Galadriel: is chauffeured. Does not believe in making small talk with the chauffeur but somehow knows everything about him. Once she looks at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes and says, “why don’t I drive today?” And then proceeds to go roaring down a road recorded on no map or GPS while the chauffeur holds on for dear life. They arrive unscathed and ahead of schedule. Galadriel smiles knowing at the chauffeur until he can collect himself enough to go around and open her door.
Aragorn: owns my grandfather’s station wagon, which means it’s a partially rusted behemoth full of tarps, propane, fishing gear, and an odd smell identifiable only as “woodsy old man”. Everything in his car seems to be covered in a strange powder. It’s either dirt or the physical manifestation of age. He has a glovebox full of maps to towns you aren’t sure exist anymore along country roads you’re pretty sure are overrun. In his garage, there’s another car covered by a tarp. Rumor has it that it’s a big old fancy car that would make aficionados weep at the sight of it, but you peeked under there once and it looked nice and all but you can’t help but think Aragorn looks better in his old reliable rust bucket.
Gandalf: owns an ancient Volkswagen van. Never uses turn signals. Is offended that you would imply he needs to.
It’s been literal years and I’m still not over Snape’s cloak-shrouded ass for asking an eleven year old muggle-raised kid the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane in front of the everyone on the first day. You want to know the difference? There is no fucking difference. They’re colloquial terms for the same fucking plant. He just wanted the intellectual upper hand over a goddamn little kid. “Haha, trick question”, so clever. you oily bag of tits
I want to write an alternative version of Romeo and Juliet where instead of being a little ponce and trying to work things out for himself, Romeo asks his smarter friends what to do about the whole thing and Benvolio and Mercutio come up with the world’s greatest plan:
Marriage of convenience between Juliet and Mercutio.
Think about it.
Juliet’s parents want her to marry into the Prince’s family. Mercutio is a good compromise between no marriage and Paris.
Mercutio probably won’t get his inheritance if he keeps being HELLA FUCKING GAY ALL OVER THE PLACE so a beard is only a benefit to him.
They would probably get along great rolling their eyes at how adorably stupid Romeo is.
Romeo and Benvolio could get a “bachelor pad” right next to Juliet and Mercutio’s house. Every night, Romeo and Mercutio high five as they hop the fence to go bang their one true love.
The second half of the play is just all of them trying to keep up the charade and being “THIS CLOSE” to getting caught all the time. But everything ends nicely because true love conquers all.
Everybody wins. Nobody dies.
THE SHAKESPERE AU I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED
DUDE DID YOU JUST FIX ONE OF THE MOST ICONIC PLAYS EVER CREATED?!
ONCE AGAIN EVERYTHING IS SOLVED BY THE QUEER LENS.
Ok i have read Sansukh but you have a better way with words and my campaign to get my friend to read it has stalled so PLEASE GIVE ME THE MOST IMPASSIONED FIC REC IN THE HISTORY OF FIC RECS I THROW MYSELF ON YOUR MERCY
O K A Y
SO
Let me take you back, my dear, to approximately one year ago, shortly after my ass finally sat down for a plane ride and read all three Lord of the RIngs books in twelve hours. Naturally, having finished them and being in need of more, I went out to AO3 within days and started sifting through the Legolas/Gimli fic, because that ship sails itself to Valinor and I’m not a moron. And the VERY FIRST FIC when you sort by kudos (one does not simply enter a new fandom sorting by Date Updated, after all, sorting by kudos is the wise soul’s path) is Sansukh, with some rather peculiar tags (’dead dwarf peanut gallery’ among them) and 400K words and the ships Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield and Gimli/Legolas Greenleaf in pride of place.
“Well,” I said to myself, “I’ve never even READ the Hobbit and from what I know, I don’t ship Thorin and Bilbo at all, doesn’t Thorin try to kill him?” (Not that that’s ever stopped me before, but forgive me my naivete.)
“I’m sure there are more Legolas/Gimli fics that include ships I ship,” I decided, and kept right on scrolling.
So I skipped it. And methodically worked my way through the nine hundred odd Gimli/Legolas fics available on AO3. The quality of these fics declined, both in terms of characterization and of grammar, as these things do, until I broke down and admitted to myself that I couldn’t stand to drag myself through an unbroken block of text, and went to glance over FF.Net because that’s my usual move. Now, self-insert fics are some people’s cup of tea, and that’s great, but I was on a mission, I had a quest, and Girl-Of-The-Week/Legolas was getting in the way of my need for Gimli/Legolas, so I didn’t last long in the FF.Net archive, needless to say.
“Come on,” I groaned, “there’s got to be more good shit, where is the rest of it? Where’s my novel-length mess of mutual pining and tragic adoration and banter, with Eternal Third-Wheel Aragorn and beautiful world-building and rampant use and abuse of Sindarin and Khuzdul?”
And then I recalled something that had almost slipped my mind.
There was that one fic. The one I’d taken to skimming past because why do people ship Thorin/Bilbo, anyway? It was long, it was popular, and hey, I could always just…stop, if I didn’t like it, right?
I was desperate. It was worth a try.
And, oh, darlings, was it ever worth a try.
I was a chapter in.
I had been dropped headfirst into a pool of characters I didn’t know–Thorin? He was a king of something, I thought. Thorin’s nephews, Fili and Kili? Never met them. I was pretty sure one of them was blond. Mahal? Had to Google him. Dead members of the Company? Had to look up a list. Thorin’s father and mother and brother and grandparents? Spent a few VERY confused minutes doing research before I realized half of them had been created wholecloth by @determamfidd. It didn’t matter. By the end of the first full chapter I was ready to take a throwing axe to the chest for these dwarrows (and Mahal).
Watching Thorin come to terms with his death was agonizingly wonderful.
By the time Thorin’s spirit visited a sixty-something red-haired dwarf with a temper and an axe, I was addicted.
By the time Thorin had a sudden and terrible revelation about Bilbo Baggins, I was beyond sold, I was in love.
The culture of the dwarves of Erebor, the return after the diaspora in the Iron Hills and their stony determination to survive, Dain Ironfoot’s abrupt promotion to king over the bodies of Thorin and Fili and Kili, Lady Dis’ grief, the anguish of the Moria colonists, the dwarves in the Halls of Mahal grieving their living and dead loved ones, Gimli’s reckless love for his family and his people–it was like falling, or flying, or drowning. It was perfect, I thought to myself, feeling a great tremendous weight in my chest like the breathless moment after getting the wind knocked out of you, right before it hurts, when you just think oh, wow. It couldn’t get better, never mind that this person had apparently written however many thousands of words of just…dwarves being dwarves.
And then.
Bilbo left. The Ring was on the field of play.
“There is no way this woman is crazy enough to rewrite the entire trilogy,” I said to myself. “And if she maintains this level of talent all the way through, I may have to scream.”
Well.
The fic is almost done. Dets is that crazy. I have had to scream.
This is the epic-length Tolkien fic of your dreams. It has women (and dwarrowdams, and lady elves) being badass. It has nonbinary and trans characters. It has world-building beyond the dreams of mortal man. It has desperate pining and steady love and families torn apart and reunited and heroes to save Middle Earth.
It has songs that will break your heart and make you smile and wriggle their way into your mind (The Iron Hills For Me fucking BROKE ME, I read that section in bed and I had to put my phone down so I didn’t get tears on it, I love it so much). It has moments of brilliant, shining joy where all you can do is laugh and heartwrenching world-weary tragedy where crying just doesn’t seem like enough, somehow. It has Aragorn, the perpetual third wheel, who just wants his friends to be happy and would consider saving Middle Earth a definite bonus to that. It has all the mid-battle and post-battle and just-because banter you could want, between dead dwarves and living dwarves and elves and Men and even the occasional Vala. It has Legolas and Gimli cobbling together a friendship from shared experiences and shared grief and falling in love and miring themselves down in misunderstandings and pining and coming together in the most perfect ways. It has Khuzdul and Sindarin and writing that honestly could put Tolkien to absolute shame in places.
It’s beautiful.
It’s elegant.
It’s sprawling.
It’s everything I could have hoped for in a Tolkien fic, and so much more.
It’s fanfiction of Lord of the Rings, but only in the way that Dante’s Divine Comedy and Milton’s Paradise Lost are fanfiction of the Bible.
someone:
you were pretty good at that thing, why'd you stop doing it?
me internally:
I get extremely anxious when I think about doing something I might possibly succeed at because I base my self-worth on my achievements and other people's approval, I am afraid because I know I will never be able to live up to my own unrealistic expectations, I hate making mistakes because they make me feel worthless, I take negative feedback too personally, I feel immense guilt over not doing things that I've been avoiding which just makes me avoid them more, I feel ashamed and inadequate due to how difficult it is for me to stay committed to anything, I'm worried that I'll just end up disappointing myself and the entire world, and I am convinced that if I failed I would literally die.
me externally:
idk i guess i've just been kinda busy lol
listen, there is absolutely nothing that gets me going like mutual seemingly unrequited pining like? i live for both people losing their minds over the other person in bitter silence. savoring every single accidental brush of their fingers, elbows, thighs, every stray glance, memorizing every gesture or expression they catch while the other isn’t looking, all while being absolutely convinced that it’s one-sided only to finally!! finally find out it wasn’t in a triumphant moment of bliss after years and years of delicious, soul-rending, torturous, heart-wrenching pining. i literally don’t care about the fact that this trope is predictable af and always plays out the same way i will still go wild over it every single time like they’ll be doing the same reveal scene i have seen a million times and i’m still on the edge of my seat gasping “are they gonna kiss???”
I’m such a laid back person you can tell me “goodnight” and I can see you posting and I understand sometimes you just need time to yaself to enjoy ur dash without talking to anybody, i get ya shorty do ya thing
Does anyone else get really caught up on the small details in their writing? Like you can be really good at writing situations and feelings and characters, but you get to a point when you’re writing something small like what they’re making for dinner and before you know it, you’re googling recipes with tomatoes because you think the scene won’t be convincing unless you know the cooking time and temp??
Seriously. I mean it. Because inevitably you will love something that no one else loves. Or you will love something that everyone loves and people will shit all over it because it’s “so trite and unimaginative and done.” Or you will love something that no one else has ever heard of. Or you will love something dark and edgy and or obscure and people will roll their eyes and say, “What, do you want people to think you’re dark and edgy and obscure?”
Alternatively, you will not love the thing that everyone else loves, and you will wonder what precisely is wrong with you that the sight of that thing is aggravating the shit out of you now when the whole world sings its praises as one.
People will irritate you. They’ll irritate you with headcanons that make no sense and misinterpretations of canon. They will make the same jokes 500 times. They will overwhelm your corner of fandom with something you either are tired of hearing about or don’t care about. They will post art that isn’t theirs. You will meet people who think you are the greatest person ever and bombard you with messages only to wander off when they find someone new or shinier; you will meet people whom you admire and who do not really seem to notice you exist.
So give zero fucks about it. Seriously. Like what you like, blacklist what you need to blacklist, and ignore everything else. Be friends, play nice, enjoy it. And in the meantime, just do you. Like what you like, love what you love, and to hell with all the rest of it.
RE: the ask about Hillary lying "as often as Trump": that is demonstrably untrue. Politifact's data shows that of these two candidates, she has lied significantly fewer times than Trump. She even has a better score than Bernie on completely true statements. I know it feels like she's smarmy, sly, and up to no good. Those perceptions have followed her throughout the entirety of her career, but they are feelings, not facts. That's not to say she's completely honest, but no politician can ever be.
You’re correct, and here’s the Politifact data to back it up:
I think the two bits that are vital are Pants on Fire (Clinton 4%, Trump 36%) and True (Clinton 53%, Trump 8%).
This is just data, and it clearly shows that Donald Trump is a liar.
I realize that a lot of Trump partisans and Never Clintons will ignore this, or find some way to believe that Politifact isn’t a totally non-partisan and purely fact-checking organization.
But those of us who live in the real world can look at these two charts and see, without any question, that Trump is a liar. There is just no equivalence between the two of them.
if you’re looking for a character with a redemption arc why would you ever ever ever even consider severus snape when you have regulus black right there
BERNIE SANDERS IS OFFICIALLY OUT OF THE RACE HE IS NO LONGER A CANDIDATE - HE DOES NOT WANT YOUR VOTE. HE WANTS US TO VOTE HILLARY TO DETRUMP THE TRUMP - GET YOUR BERNIE OR BUST RHETORIC AWAY. CLEAR IT FROM YOUR MINDS. VOTE HILLARY. GIVE HER ANY NUMBER BOOSTS YOU CAN. I DON’T CARE. USE YOUR FUCKING BRAINS. PLEASE.
Ok, but also, do people not realize how much bernie accomplished despite not getting the nomination???? In the end, Bernie did what he wanted to do all along. He shook up the DNC despite their plays against him. He got the Democratic party to adopt THE most progressive platform in HISTORY!!! He made people stop and think and adopt and protest and force the Democrats to notice; he changed the game. He’s already made a huge impact. I would’ve loved him to receive the nomination, but we have to face the reality. If you write him in, or don’t even fucking vote, Donald Trump, the farthest thing from what Sanders believes in, will win because you’ll split the democratic vote. So if you’re a die hard Bernie supporter like you say you are, don’t throw away the work he has done. Don’t throw away his success. Vote Clinton.
Of mice and men. I will always hate Of Mice and Men.
always
The Catcher In The Rye most trash book ever
^yeah, gatsby was terrible too tho
I liked gatsby because the narrator thought everything that happened was bullshit too. I HATED catcher in the rye though.
All of the books listed here I hated with a passion, but none more so than The Catcher in the Rye. GOD.
I had to force myself to read that shit. Anything by Steinbeck is a basically a sleeping pill.
The Scarlet Letter. I never even read Gatsby, still not sure how I passed that section tbh.
The Awakening. How did my eyes not roll right out of my skull while my ever-so-earnest English teacher rhapsodized for two weeks on Kate Chopin?
There is a burning hatred in my heart for anything Hemingway.
Does not help that my professor last year spent two months with the old fart’s metaphorical balls slapping against his chin.
THE AWAKENING My english teacher went on about what a feminist piece it was and how well written it was and it really just made me want to stab myself in the eye because it was neither of those things
The Awakening and Grapes of Wrath
G o d i hated grapes of wrath I don’t think I finished it
GRAPES OF GODDAMN WRATH.
Oh God did anyone else have to read You Can’t Go Home Again? It was WORSE. 700 pages of inane and plotless rambling. Fucking murderous.
I dont know how you feel about it but I am sooo excited for Suicide Squad like... I am dressing up as Harley and everything. I just needed a fangirl momentđ¤đ¤
Babe, I’ll admit that I’m more of a Marvel girl at heart (the X-Men were my FIRST LOVE okay, I was seven, I’m Committed), but I’m pretty excited too. I was apathetic at best and then I watched a trailer with Harley Quinn in it and like. Let me tell you a thing. I’ve watched worse movies for the sake of one snarky badass female character.
And that scene in the trailer where everyone’s ordering drinks and the one guy just goes “Water” and Harley points at him and say “That’s a good idea, honey” just??? Makes me so happy for some reason????
So YEAH the tl;dr of this is that I’m gonna watch the FUCK out of this movie for Deadshot being deadpan (*snicker* I’m hilarious) and Harley being Harley.
No, but seriously, Scotty and Keenser are going to be such proud uncles to Jaylah as she rips her way through the Engineering track at Starfleet Academy
psa if you ever meet me in real life I am really sorry for how much I swear like it’s really not a joke I have a mouth on me like a fuckin sailor and I can usually turn it off around adults but if you’re under thirty five I will likely throw one ‘fuck’ in for every three words that leave my mouth it’s shocking
the canon OT3 we’re not being coy like in the Rundown Job job
the one-off not quite canon within the story supernatural/fantasy elements job
the fake a cryptid (either bigfoot or el chupacabra) job
the circus job (I really want to see Parker the acrobat)
the explain how their clients even find them job. Like seriously do they advertise??? How does this work???
Hardison’s Nana comes to them because some fake debt-collection agency is hounding her for bills she already paid (or rather, that Hardison paid, via the Bank of Iceland). She is played by Nichelle Nichols. There is at least one Star Trek reference.
YES I need this like breathing. Nichelle Nichols is Nana now. Nobody can convince me otherwise.
And the circus job! No one can tell me that the entire crew wouldn’t get in on the circus job and be really into it.
Parker as an acrobat trying to get used to the idea that people are supposed to see her when she’s performing, and then getting into it and loving the applause when she does something extra fancy and death-defying with her ropes.
Eliot randomly is an expert at fire-juggling, because of course he is. He performs shirtless. The crowd goes wild. Never has there been so much thirst in a single room.
Sophie as the fortune teller. Sophie as the fortune teller who’s way too good at her job and has to tone it down a little bit because she’s freaking people out. She also does the knife-throwing act with Eliot, posing beautifully while he throws knives around her. She knows he’ll never miss.
Nate, of course, is the barker. “Step right up, step right up. See the beautiful, the death-defying…”
Meanwhile Hardison is behind the scenes bringing the technology into the 21st century. The light show to go along with the choreography has never been more beautiful, the sound system has never been so good, and the rigging has never been more safe. Also there are bugs everywhere so he can listen in and catch the bad guy, but that’s almost secondary.
In the end Eliot gets to fight the circus strong man, Sophi out-cons the bad guy, and the plan comes together like puzzle pieces falling into place right at the end so you can hardly believe it worked. Just like a good performance should.
They give the circus back to its tearfully grateful original owner and drive off into the sunset–ready to con another day.
me: i feel awful in so many different ways. I have no idea how I’m supposed to cope and process everything that’s happening. me: turns to my ocs my ocs: sweats me: jaws theme
When I was 17 my appendix ruptured because I thought I was just having period cramps and didn’t go to the hospital so don’t tell me PMS symptoms are no big deal
this actually happened to me during my math final and i didn’t think anything of it and when i was later admitted to the hospital my math prof was asking me ‘you didn’t have to take the final! why didn’t you tell me it hurt?!?!’ and i told him i’ve had cramps worse.
he gave me 100
This is actually an extremely common occurrence simply because in sex ed they don’t teach you how to tell the difference between menstrual cramps and other more serious pains. The way to tell the difference between cramps and appendicitis is that while menstrual cramps are generalized toward the middle of the stomach below the belly button, pain from a swollen or burst appendix will start in the middle of the stomach and relocate to only the lower right side, even lower than menstrual cramps, and is a very localized pain. It also comes on extremely suddenly and will worsen over time or when you make a sudden movement, like a cough or a sneeze.
Basically, if you’re feeling any sort of pain, even if it’s menstrual cramps, don’t hesitate to tell the school nurse or a parent, or if you’re out of school and home even make a doctor’s appointment. Chances are if your cramps are that bad there’s something they can do to improve that as well.
I am boosting the shit out of that reply, because I am twenty-fucking-five years old and did not know how to tell the two pains apart
Adding another diagnostic tool! This is something we use in the ER called the rebound test. Basically, appendicitis and cramps react differently to certain things. If you’re still not sure if you have cramps or appendicitis, take two fingers and press them into your abdomen where the pain is (try repeating this on the lower right quadrant of the abdomen just to be sure.)
When you press in firmly, it will probably hurt. Here’s the test: LET GO. Does it get better or get worse? Appendicitis will immediately hurt worse when you let go. Cramps will not. Go to the ER if the rebound test makes it worse!
THE REBOUND TEST IS REALLY IMPORTANT.
My husband got sent home from the ER with a rupturing appendix. When he came back and was rushed into surgery, the surgeon was super angry – “Why didn’t anyone do the rebound test?!”
there was a post about musical star trek where spock is the one guy who doesn’t understand how everyone is singing and harmonizing but i say no
bones as the one guy who doesn’t understand why everyone is singing and what the hell is this choreography. because i want you to imagine this. bones getting very confused and going to ask spock what the hell is going on and spock turns around and starts singing too
What's your favourite book/author, and what's your dream job?
Okay, so, for favorite book, I’d say that The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley (pitch here, for her other stuff here), the Kencyrath series by PC Hodgell (pitch here), and Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (I haven’t done a rec for that one, but hit me up if you’re curious) are all strong contenders. Aaaaand those people would be my go-to’s for favorite authors too…although I’m sure that in a few minutes I’ll come up with half a dozen other things I should have put down.
For my dream job, I would ideally like to work as a doctor in an ER at a Trauma One hospital and write novels in my free time. Adler wants me to quit everything and write full time, but I get weird after a solid day of writing, I don’t want to know what I’d be like after multiple months.
People canât anticipate how much theyâll miss the natural world until they are deprived of it.
I have read about submarine crewmen who haunt the sonar room, listening to whale songs and colonies of snapping shrimp. Submarine captains dispense âperiscope libertyâ - a chance to gaze at clouds and birds and coastlines - and remind themselves that the natural world still exists. I once met a man who told me that after landing in Christchurch, New Zealand, after a winter at the South Pole research station, he and his companions spent a couple of days just wandering around staring in awe at flowers and trees. At one point, one of them spotted a woman pushing a stroller. âA baby!â he shouted, and they all rushed across the street to see. The woman turned the stroller and ran.
Nothing tops space as a barren, unnatural environment. Astronauts who had no prior interest in gardening spend hours tending experimental greenhouses. âThey are our love,â said cosmonaut Vladislav Volkov of the tiny flax plants - with which they shared the confines of Salyut 1, the first Soviet space station. At least in orbit, you can look out the window and see the natural world below.
On a Mars mission, once astronauts lose sight of Earth, theyâll be nothing to see outside the window. âYouâll be bathed in permanent sunlight, so you wonât eve see any stars,â astronaut Andy Thomas explained to me.
does anyone else secretly have that “i liked it before it was cool” complex but wont admit it
it’s more along the lines of “you guys were fucking making fun of me for liking this before it was cool” kinda complex
Also a “I super excitedly tried to show this to you years ago and you brushed it off and now you think you introduced it to me and that is infuriating” kinda complex
A week ago I sent you an ask really freaking out about college and your advice really helped me. I just want to say thank you so much. I still have 2 days until I leave but I am not as freaked out anymore. I do have another question though. Is there anything that I would need to bring that people don't normally think about? I don't want to get there and find out I have the wrong stuff.
Hey, babe, I’m so glad my advice was helpful! Hm, stuff to bring to college that people don’t normally think of…let’s see…
First aid kit. It might seem obvious, but it’s not. Even if it’s just a box or two of bandaids, some rubbing alcohol, a bottle of Advil/Tylenol, and some Neosporin. It’ll make you popular, and it’ll come in handy.
Small sewing kit. Even if you can barely sew a button. Thread and needle come in handy more often than you’d think, ditto safety pins and scissors. You should be able to buy one at any reasonably large craft store.
Your favorite kid’s show/movie and a way to watch it. I’ve watched more Disney in the last few years than…ever, maybe. And I got Liberty’s Kids this summer and I’m gonna watch the fuck out of it this year while I write my thesis. Seriously. Your serious, dark TV shows are great and I love them, too, but when you inevitably have a really awful day, a light, familiar, comforting kid’s show or movie is the way to go. TRUST ME ON THIS.
At least one book you really love. I brought a whole crate of books, including the entire Harry Potter series, my first semester. I didn’t read half of them, but I have no regrets. It was soothing to be able to see them there, you know? Something that was mine.
I suggested this before, but some kind of comfort item? I have a few stuffed animals that always come to college with me, a favorite blanket, that sort of thing. Tell anyone who questions you to fuck right on off.
Bring backups. If you wear glasses, bring an extra pair (try Zenni.com if you don’t have the money to drop on an extra pair of store-bought glasses). Bring an extra phone charger. Bring extra headphones. Bring extra everything.
SNACKS BUY FRIENDS. Bring some chocolate, bring some cookies, whatever you can get your hands on. It’s easy to buy the love of a college student with junk food.
On a related note, maybe have some foodstuffs in your room for when you decide that you just cannot with the dining hall anymore. Everyone reaches that point eventually, even if it’s just because you’ve had a long-as-fuck day and people seem too intimidating.
On ANOTHER related note, if you drink caffeine, find a source that works. Coffee, energy drinks, tea, those little MIO things. It helps to know where you’re getting that boost. And remember, kiddo: caffeine OD’s are a thing, and I will be disappointed in you if you drink twelve espressos in a day and have a heart attack.
Last but not least, something to cover the walls. I said it before, I’ll say it again. College dorms are basically prison cells before you put shit in them. Posters, sticky notes with quotes you like, pictures, whatever. I make signs with quotes and sketches and Organic Chemistry stuff. Adler has a postcard collage. ANYTHING. Blank white cinderblock walls are depressing.
D’you guys think that anytime someone questions anything about Sulu’s flying capabilities he has a split second where everything goes red and the disembodied haunting voice of Christopher Pike comes drifting out of the fog to say, “Is the parking brake on?”
“Charming! Delightful! Never have I enjoyed such a swearing before or since.”—Lafayette talking about George Washington cursing at Charles Lee for the battle of Monmouth (from Washington by Ron Chernow page 342) (via its1800)
Just think while you been getting down and out about Caesar’s use of the Ablative Absolute and Cicero’s lengthy speeches you could have been getting down
TO THIS
SICK
BEAT
*starts scanning a line written in dactylic hexameter*
