HELLO, THIS
on a similar note
the saga continues!
These statements are worse than I ever could have expected and I thought my expectations were already at zero

#extradirty

JVL

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macklin celebrini has autism

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@alexofawsomeness
HELLO, THIS
on a similar note
the saga continues!
These statements are worse than I ever could have expected and I thought my expectations were already at zero
every time i listen to āyouāre a mean one mr. grinchā i canāt help but sit there and think āwhat did the grinch do to hurt you?ā because dude just stands there for 2 minutes and 58 seconds and drags the grinch into the dirt
he stole christmas, kayla! stop with your #notallgrinches propaganda!
you know what if someone told me i was a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce iād probably be bitter enough to steal christmas tooĀ
Interestingly, though The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is narrated by Boris Karloff, the big musical number is sung by the late Thurl Ravenscroft - an American voice actor better known as the voice of Tony the Tiger.
My headcanon is that the Grinch and Tony the Tiger had a bad breakup, and āYouāre a Mean One, Mr. Grinchā is the resulting breakup song.
Did this really HAVE to be the first thing I see when I opened up Tumblr?
Yes.
oh god theres art
@altadude you know what must be done.
ive been avoiding reblogging this honestly but just. What the fuck. What the fuck tumblr
I apologize to all my followers for this
if i had to read this you do too
I have a hate-hate relationship with this
ā¦ā¦ā¦
Good grief⦠Iām sorry, but I canāt not reblog thisā¦
Tis the season bitches
DAMN IT WHY WOULD YOU BRING THIS BACK YOU HEATHEN
Why is this on my dash?
ā¦..Iām.. Bothered? by the fact that Iām not bothered by this.
Youāre not bothered?? Iām not only not bothered, Iām freaking invested. Iām having actual empathetic sadness for The Grinch. I want them to go into coupleās counseling. I want theĀ āten years laterā when Tony visits Whoville on business and meets the reformed Grinch whose heart has grown 3 times its usual size. I want them to reminisce over a shared dinner of roast beast and wine, then spend a drunken night together, then realize that maybe things are different and people really do change. I want a 3-act story where thereās a long dark night of soul searching and the realization that maybe weāve allĀ got a little bit of bad banana with greasy black peel inside us, but that doesnāt mean we canāt make a damned fine banana bread if someone will give us a chance.Ā
āmaybe weāve allĀ got a little bit of bad banana with greasy black peel inside us, but that doesnāt mean we canāt make a damned fine banana bread if someone will give us a chanceā is an incredibly profound quote and I did NOT expect to get it from a Grinch x Tony the Tiger post
where did all you western anti-work āsocialistsā come from anyway. you want the āto each according to their needā and forgot the āfrom each according to their abilityā. āI do not dream of labourā ok, but you do dream of living well. so what you really want is someone else to labour for you, which makes you indistinguishable from any bourgeois capitalist you claim to despise. the consumerist-oriented āfully automated luxury space communismā bullshit has truly rotted peopleās brains. you want all the trappings of excess but you want the brunt of creation of that excess to be on someone else. well congratulations, you already live in an imperialist society. you have that. someone else is already harvesting your vegetables, sewing your clothes, mining the cobalt for your electronics. all you want is more, easier access to those things.
I get it on some level, especially as someone who has worked alienating, minimum wage jobs in which I have absolutely no stake other than the necessity of getting money to pay rent. but itās not the work. itās the capitalism. I do not dream of labouring to the benefit of a boss who steals my own time from me, or to pay for the militarism of my government, or even to contribute to a hypothetical pension for a hypothetical retirement. but I do dream, intensely, of labour: labour that wonāt kill me, and contributes meaningfully to a society I am proud of; a society not driven by profit for a few, that exists to meet the needs of everyone around me. we do not live in that society. but if we want to make it, labour will exist, and not just menial physical labour but an extraordinary amount of mental and social labour, almost none of which will ever be replaced by automation, and that is not a bad thing.
It checks out
early 00s media was the era of the boring girl protagonist and her heavily lesbian-coded bff
Thereās literally no justifying to why it costs SO MUCH
she loud and correct
This worked well for me. ā¤ļø
Important to remember
if this get 50 notes, I'll tell you guys how my little sister accidentally became part of school's urban legend during 3rd grade.
ok so this happened back in south korea, during my 3rd grade years.Ā
my family moved a lot due to my fatherās work, like once a year. which meant that every kindergarten and up to 4th grade my sis and i constantly changed schools. and out of all those school, the most memorable school was the one my sister and i attended when we were 10. the school was like, super old building. it was tall, had about 4th floor (korea is small country so we tend to build things up rather then broad.) what was most memorable about this school was that right behind the school there was a garden (i used to water the lilies, part of my responsibility as a student. giving jobs to youngĀ student is a norm in asian county), a pond for ducks and a cages for goats and chicken. and behind these wacky collection was a mountain. like, i would take 10 steps away from school and the mountain would be there.
so anyway, the pond was large enough for a watermill and i remember it being so pretty and rather peaceful. but the 5th graders would often tell us that the Principleās daughter was found dead by the watermill. there was many stories about it here and there. some said that she slipped during rainy season and drowned. other said she committed suicide, some said her hair got caught by the watermill and was crushed underneath the machine. and supposedly her grave was by the watermill. (iām not sure if it was her tomb or her memorial but it was definitely there. i wouldnāt be surprised if it was her grave though. in korea u can find graves in rather odd places, for sake of the progression letās call it her grave stone).
i knew that most older kids were teasing me, but i know for that fact that the principle DO have a dead daughter. i saw her portrait hanging in his office (and it was a special type of frame, only used for the departed), this made me never go near the watermill.Ā then one summer (our summer breaks are short so we return to class early) there was a new rumor circulating that the Ghost of Principleās daughter had spoken to a 3rd grader and given her a gift. some said she had given this girl her crushed skull (and speculation goes on) the story got so popular that even the high schoolers were talking about it. this started a trend that a student would stay after school in there lonesome and leave a gift on the grave, just so that they could have a chance to encounter the ghost girl. this lasted for a while.
now, 16 years later. i was recalling about this memory and spoke to my sister fondly about it. then i saidĀ āi wonder who that girl was? the one who met the principleās daughterās ghost.ā my sister gave me flat look and said.
āoh. that was me.ā
i was rather surprised by it, and askedĀ āwhat the hell happened?ā
she told me that she didnāt tell the story that time because she thought it wasnāt all that big deal.
during the 3rd grade, my sister and i attended separate classes (we are twins, so it lessens the confusion). it was after school hours and the other kids in the class dared each other to go to the watermill grave and poke at the grave stone. of course all the kids chickened out and forced my sister to go alone. my sister, being the silent and mysterious protagonist that she was, she didnāt argue and went up to the grave on her own. now, the thing about my sister is that ever since she was little, she was the brave one and she wasnāt scared of dead things. and found them interesting. itās also worth mentioning that she was raised by my grandmother in her early childhood (my mother had a heart condition and needed extra help). my grandmother was born in one of the smaller island of korea and was raised in shaman family. grandma always told my sister to respect the dead, and respect my sister did.
first thing she knew of visiting the grave was that 1. be respectful. 2. bring offering.
my sister was wearing an overall that day and in her pocket, she had a clementine she hasnāt eaten during lunch. she had her offering. she also recalled my grandmother taking bouquet to the graves. so my sister plucked three dandelions. she had her bouquet.
now 3. clean the grave.Ā
my sister made it up to the grave. and placed the dandelions on top of the grave stones, lining them up. all she had to do was clean, most grave sites would provide a faucet of clean water so that grieving relatives could wash the grave stones. she sister didnāt think to look for one because a water source was right by her feet. my sister resorted to squatting down and cupped the pond water in her palm (the water was clean enough for tadpoles to live but you wonāt want to drink it). then she smeared the pond water against the grave stone. as she was doing that, she felt someone standing over her. shading her and the grave.
she turns and sees black.....
it was the principle in his black suit.
my sister mentioned that in close up, the principle looked about in his 60s my sister was pretty sure that his daughter had passed away long time ago. the principle stared at my sister and he didnāt say anything. and my sister being nonverbal, she didnāt say anything either and stared back. they basically stood still for a while, until he spoke.
āwhat are you doing?ā
my sister answered.
ārespecting the dead.ā
he examined the sight before him, flower on the grave stone, and some sort of cleaning attempt with a pond water. i think he determined that my sister didnāt had ill intention. he knelt on one knee and pulled out his handkerchief, then proceeded to help my sister to clean the grave. after they did so, he stood back up. and my sister pulled the clementine out of her overalls and placed it in front of the grave. the principle nodded approvingly and watched the grave for a moment or two. he then gently petted my sisterās head and said.
āyou know, my daughter and you could have been good friends.ā
my sister said nothing but nodded in agreement. before she could return to her classmate, the principle showed a box he had brought with him.
āthis is my daughterās favorite rice cake, would you like some?ā
she took one and returned to her class. when she got there the other kids were pretty surprised that my sister didnāt ditch them out of the dare. but they noticed that my sister was eating something.Ā
a rice cake.
they asked where she got it, and my sister being silent, young and not too savvy with words she tried to sayĀ āthis is the principle daughterās favoriteā andĀ āthe principle gave it to meā her words jumbled and she wind up sayingĀ āthe principleās daughter gave it to me.ā of course, they didnāt believe her and checked her overall pocket, thinking she smuggled it. the thing about this particular rice cake is that itās covered in sweet powders and my sisterās pocket was clean. they knew they didnāt had rice cake for lunch and the cafeteria is closed, and even if she could have gotten from a market it was too far away. now the kids start freaking out and my sister, being the silent protagonist that she is, her mission was completed and she left for home. the next day theĀ āscary storyā spread like wild fire.
as i learned of truth, i had another realization. why in the world was the principle so silent when he saw my sister? then it hit me. remember that i saw the principleās daughterās portrait? she looked around 9 or 10 and she had this long wavy hair.....my sister had similar hair.
now imagine you are this old man, going up to see his daughterās grave. itās after school so kids shouldnāt be around. and in front of the daughterās grave, you see a small child with long black hair, wearing white (what ghosts usually wear in korean culture) and kneeling at the front of the grave.Ā
at this point i lost it and laughed, the principle was very quiet becauseĀ
1. he thought my sister was a ghost. and 2. she scared the hell out of him.
my sister found that prospective interesting and laughed along with me. she and i still discuss that memory today. and thatās how my sister accidentally becameĀ part of schoolās urban legend/mistaken for a ghost during 3rd grade.
thank you for reading
āBut if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.ā
not even risking that shit
scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button.Ā
She aināt no games in real life so I take her serious all the time
Anyone with a name that starts with a āZā, ends with an āiā, and isnāt some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS
Iām not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, š š½š š¾š šæ Negative.
Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.
who the fuck is Madame Zeroni
Look at these stupid children who donāt know who Madame Zeroni is
āš¾š
Man lissen if you donāt know you better ask somebody AFTER you hit the reblog button
Idk who she is but I have an exam today so Iāll reblog her
idk who she is but i have an exam today so iāll reblog her
^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!
Because wise, I am.
Oh fucks no sheās back lmao must reblog. Iām sorry guys
2 million people arenāt wrong
āI actually got the J&Jā š¤£
This is the content I get on tumblr for
@fluent-in-lesbianism how could you leave this in the tags
Ha! Imagine being alive in 20 years to collect...
Ali Wong: Hard Knock Wife (2018)
pls tell me im not the only one
how fuckin short is mr clean
how fucking big was that 12 year old
hes destroying the evidence that the giant 12 year old ever existed