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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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hello vonnie
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@ace-lingual
no offence but i think a lot of us me included don’t actually want romantic love as badly as we think and really are just lonely and crave a closeness and intimacy that feels out of reach in friendships because of society’s emphasis on marriage and the nuclear family so we project that into the never ending search for a perfect love and a soulmate when really we all just want to mean something to someone
as much as the concept of Jesus being a fairly normal lad has its charms, im personally very intrigued by the idea of him being just… extremely weird. not even in a mystical sense, just…….staggeringly BIZZARRE.
you go to the well to get some water, and here’s Miriam’s boy, staring at the sky, completely still. his expression is unreadable. you hazard a hello and ask how he’s doing, and he slowly, unblinkingly, lowers his gaze on you (he’s 8 and is missing his frontal teeth, not that this is making you any less uncomfortable) and says “I cannot speak of the state of my being, Nathan son of Saul, my brother, but rejoice for the water you shall take today will be as pure as the soul of the children of Heaven”
…you start sweating
normal person in 1st century Nazareth: making my way downtown, walking fast
*sees J boy, 8 yo, staring at you from across the street*
normal person: walking faster
even funnier, the only person 100% on board with his Prophetic Kid Talk is his mother Miriam, an otherwise placid, absolutely normal woman around 25 or so
kid JC, coming home at twilight, a single white dove following him and chirping with weirdly human-like precision:
moth̫́er,̦͌ ̮̉i h͙̉av͔̽e ͓͗b̘̃r̞̓o̮͘u̲̒gh̟͒t̺́ you a do̗͐ṽ͙e̢͘ ͈̾m͒͢a͈̽dē̝ ỏ̘f ͈̓c̆͜l͔̂aỷ͇ aṋ̑d̳̿ g͢͞i̹̾fted̖͡ ̻͐it ͓͂w̖̿it̎͜h t̥̃h͙͒e ̨̒m̧̂i̡̍ŗ͒â̫cḷ̔è̤ ̛̻of̞̅ l̘̈i̛̦fè̳
Miriam: ! that’s my little boy :) now let’s go get ready for dinner :)
her husband Yosef, a carpenter who only marginally got signed up for this:
This post is so Christian, but it’s the spicy kind of Christian that gets you murdered by other Christians for heresy, so I’m torn.
literally biggest form of compliment i’ve ever gotten
that means the angels are babysitters then
here have more
You guys really need to read Christopher Moore’s Lamb, if you haven’t.
Just a heads up right now: on the day when Trump dies, I’m going to be extremely tasteless about it. It’s going to get ugly. You are going to see a side of me I am not proud of. I don’t want any call-outs in my inbox, I’m stating right now that lines will be crossed.
How disgusting can someone be
I wouldn’t even say this about my worst enemy
Forget the fact that its trump. If you agree with this youre fucking evil. Evil literally lives inside you. Wow.
Anyways all of y’all AND the evil that literally lives inside of you are invited to the sick ass house party I’m throwing when lord dampnut kicks the bucket
I feel like all you Americans need to take a look at what happened here in the UK after Maggie Thatcher died. Because when it comes to tasteless celebrations fuelled by anger and the death of a hated political leader, we REALLY pushed the boat out. We had street parties. We had burning effigies. We pushed “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” to the top of the charts out of sheer hatred. Bone up kiddos, and I really hope you manage to do that truly American thing, of dramatically outdoing us with your celebrations.
Reblogging for last comment.
With the way this year is going, the sooner it happens the better.
*this can be reblogged every year
I’m going to make cake. There’s going to be fireworks. There WILL be a burnt effigy.
“You realize your dietary requirements will get you killed in a survivalist context right?”
Buddy, I live every day in a body that’s trying to kill me, your weak ass prepper doomsday shit has no idea about what it means to survive.
Go be a mediocre sack of dicks somewhere else.
I will never understand why anyone thinks popping up in the inbox of chronically ill/disabled people to say “HEY! YOU’RE DEFINITELY GOING TO DIE IN THE APOCALYPSE BECAUSE YOU CAN’T EAT PALM OIL/NEED TO USE A WHEELCHAIR” is in any way a useful or helpful thing to do
It validates their own supercilious sense of self-worth and divorces them from the reality that while I might be well and truly fucked come the apocalypse, so are they. See you in hell, assholes. I’ll save you a seat.
If you somehow do wind up in Hell, I'd bet you'll be the one holding the pitchfork.
Ah, I see we’ve looped back round to the old adage “heaven doesn’t want me and hell is afraid I’ll take over” explanation as to why I’m still around.
Buddy, if anyone is likely to survive, it's gonna be the person who needs to choose, every fucking day, whether or not to get out of bed. That type of ingrained bone-deep stubborn can conquer anything, even if it's slower than your adrenaline-junkie entertainment considers useful.
“I am getting out of this bed even though I will scream my way through the process” will always trump “I’m totally apocalypse-prepped!” because the Apocalypse is easy shit in comparison.
Ok so I used to be involved in a post-apocalypse horror LARP that was basically 48 hours in the woods with zombies (which, though not anywhere near on par with actual disasters, was a vibe where you could be murdered in your bed at 4am, kidnapped and exploded, or randomly hunted for sport) And from just my own personal experience I learned:
- if you’re used to doing low-spoons Depression Meals you’re already used to surviving on apocalypse “eat whatever you can carry” rations
- if you’re already used to always pushing through pain most minor injuries won’t even spoil your mood
- anxiety makes a person an Incredibly Effective Lookout (Nothing ever got the jump on me)
- if you’re fighting depression you’re already used to spitting in the face of despair so staring down “impossible odds” kinda just feels like Tuesday
- folks who Make Things are the true backbone of society
- fighters are a dime a dozen but someone who knows how to care for the injured / accommodate disability is literally freakin irreplaceable
- you don’t have to be “~uSeFuL~” for folks to find you worth saving
- The people who survive are the people who care about people
Reblogging for the addition of awesome.
trying to prove a point to the boys at school
reblog this if you believe trans men are real men like this if you dont
Of course
i'm losing my shit at this the delivery is absolutely flawless
Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits
Reblog this on the first of the month for good luck all month long!
i wrote half an essay in 20mins today when it’s not even due for another 4 weeks, reblog this to have a productivity lightning bolt strike you like it did me today
I need this energy and motivation
Same
This comic is very polite this is how life should be
I will keep this photo posted for 1 week.
Every time someone Reblogs this photo I will donate 10 cent to charity: water
After the money is donated I will post proof of donation.
Show you care & Reblog.
always
If you don’t reblog this at least once you’re a joke.
Please reblog
I’ve never reblogged something faster
Everyone deserves the right to clean water.
Everyone
HECCCC YEAH BABEY
Break. This. Post.
The tragic thing about writers of any genre wanting to make things realistic is that I could find crazier stuff in the real world. Why make your story blander to imitate real life when the real world is absolutely insane?? And I mean batshit fucking crazy. I’m not joking, it’s wild out there! Once in a lifetime circumstances and unique, utterly undefinable people and physical traits that you tell yourself are too unrealistic to put in your story!! But I guran-goddamn-tee you they exist in the real world! Right now!! On a real live human person! I could see weirder, crazier, more buck fucking wild things in real life than I ever could in some high fantasy completely made up universe. So like,,, don’t be afraid to be creative, is what I’m saying. It isn’t unrealistic and it isn’t that far out there and even if it is, there’s probably no match for it on earth, anyways. Because life is insane. And nothing makes sense. So why should you?
FORCING yourself to conform to what society as a collective has deemed “normal” is a travesty! Only do that if you want to! Not if you think you have to. For the love of god don’t feel forced make things dull in the name of “realism”. Realism is a farce. The world is just as creative as you are. Nothing is impossible. There are no limits.
Now, I’m not saying romantic relationships are inferior, or that they’re useless, or that you being in one or that you shipping some characters romantically is Bad or something off the walls like that. What I’m saying is that two people (or characters, since we’re talking shipping here) can be just as devoted to each other, love each other just as deeply, mean just as much to each other while being in a platonic relationship. The end point of caring about someone doesn’t have to be romance.
Friendship isn’t a stepping stone between strangers and romantic partners, it’s a different path. And you can follow that path as deep into the wood as a romantic one if you want, and neither is inferior to the other, they just have different views.
reblog my aro posts you cowards
it is so upsetting listening to so many males talk about all of the times they have gone on road trips alone and slept in their cars alone or on the side of the road, or travelled overseas alone and slept on the floor of strangers homes or in parks or at hostels, and they appear to have such freedom in that they are able to be alone in ways that females, unfortunately, cannot. and there is an ignorance surrounding this in that these boys never seem to comprehend just how fortunate they are that strange people and unfamiliar places and the dark of night are not their enemies but rather exciting, promising things.
“Yes, my consuming desire is to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, barroom regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording—all this is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always supposedly in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yes, God, I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
i’m up
⊂_ヽ
＼＼ and ready
＼( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> ⌒ヽ
/ へ＼
/ / ＼＼ to write
ﾚ ノ ヽ_つ
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some bullshit!
Native Americans are being disproportionately impacted by the coronavirus.
A conversation about the challenges facing—and the resilience of—the largest reservation in the country, which has become a COVID-19 hotspot
The Navajo Nation now has a total of 1,637 cases of COVID-19 with 59 confirmed deaths.
remember, this is for a DOOR lock.
remember that when picking a DOOR lock, you have to apply a little bit of pressure to your tension wrench (the thing that you use to turn the knob). too little or too much and you wont be able to pick the door open. you can use anything for the tension wrench. a bobby pin. bits of wire. a paper clip. etc.
its best to be completely silent when youre picking locks bc theres this small ‘click’ when youre picking that you might miss if youre using headphones or listening to music.
.
if youre picking one of these
you jam something thin and long above one of the rotation dials and you push up on the shackle.
. if its one of these
you get yourself some shims. (or make one. you can make shims out of fucking soda cans), you wiggle them in the tiny space between the shackle and the body of the lock, and you pop these suckers open.
. for a chain deadbolt,
you get something flexible but sturdy and you just push this fucker down
. for one of these rotating combination locks
you can also shim this motherfucker open. jam your shims between the shackle and the body and pry it unlocked. if, for some reason, you dont wanna shim it open, maybe you dont have a shim or you just like a challenge, this bitch can be decoded ridiculously easy. heres what you do:
spin this bitch to the right about two or three times to “reset” it. then you pull up on the shackle a bit, and turn it right slowly until you hear a click. your number is two spaces further. then you turn left 360 degrees until you land on the right number again, and start turning this motherfucker left until it stops. when it stops, turn right. if its loose, its the wrong number, keep going left. if its not loose, you have the right number, and you turn right all the way until this bitch pops
.
now you know how to pick several common locks!!!!! congratulations!!!!
Thanku
*frantically takes more notes*
Fuck, where’s my notebook?
cool!
It was a winter evening at grandma’s in my mid twenties when my older brother, my grandmother and I learned that we all used to fight boredom in high school by practicing picking padlocks at our desks during class
