Love Begins
Cosmic Funnies
Lauren Shippen
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
🪼
d e v o n
Fai_Ryy
seen from Germany
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@both-beauty-and-beast
For the 3rd year in a row I’m seeing people give Netflix’s A Series of Unfortunate Events a try and then get disapointed/angry that nothing good ever comes out of it that everything always seem to go wrong for the Baudelaire and I’m just… if only someone, anyone…. had warned them
me: *is repeatidly told by the story itself that it doesnt end well, has a title sequence song that is just about how one should stop watching immediately because it’s sad, the narrator, each episode, tells me that i have an option of not watching it and proceeds to wait a few seconds for me to leave*
A Series Of Unfortunate Events: *isn’t a happy story*
me:
A Series of Unfornate Events: *is a A Series of Unfornate Events*
me:
Reasons I believe my friend is secretly some kind of deity
1) First time we spoke was a week after the beggining of freshman year she summed up my entire character and most of the events of my life Sherlock style. I asked her how the hell she knew all that. She just shrugged and said she figured out our entire class already.
2) The one time we had religion class instead of ethics she listened to the teacher for a few minutes, laughed and told me:
“Humans have wished to be gods so much they’ve forgotten they have to ability to create them. Imagination has truly suffered from this ‘monotheism’ stuff.”
I was confused and asked her if she was an atheist. She rolled her eyes and said:
“Oh I believe in god alright. I just don’t think the bastard deserves to be worshipped.”
3) Out of nowhere she gave me this advice:
“The only truth a liar ever told was that lies weren’t going to save you. Don’t become the liar who has to pass that wisdom on, because they speak from experience.”
4) To this day, she has one of those old-timey phones with buttons she only uses to ocassionally call someone. When I asked her why she never got a smartphone she got pouty:
“I hate social media. On Facebook they talk a lot but never say anything. If I wanted to listen to people moan about their problems and ask for help they don’t expect I’d listen to their prayers.” (Notice the choice of words)
5) I noticed she was stiff and I offered her a massage since I’m really good at it but when i started kneading her back I swear to this day those were not muscles I felt. I asked her what she did to turn her muscles into rocks covered with a thin layer of skin and she kinda froze then shrugged and said she was just really, really stiff. My hands hurt after ten minutes when I can usually go for an hour. Next time I offered she seemed surprised and laughed. She still has rocks for muscles.
6) We were having a debate over the way neural pathways are formed (I study biology and she forensics) and I jokingly asked if I could have her brain for study when she dies. She laughed.
“Sure, if you find a way to kill me you can have it. I’m actually curious what you’re gonna find.”
7) One time she was tired and miserable and I tried to comfort her. We both have really dark sense of humor so I told her she could scare the dead out of their graves with that glare. She told me the dead can’t come back and I rolled my eyes and said ‘obviously’ but she continued:
“When you die you descend to the underworld with nothing to lose. To keep you, they give you something to lose. When you want to return, they will demand it back. That’s why nobody ever leaves. The only way out is to never enter.”
8) One day she just came up to me with a disappointed look on her face. When I asked her what was wrong she was quiet for a few seconds and then just told me:
“Betrayals committed in good intentions are still damning. Just… keep that in mind.” Then she left and didn’t speak to me for three days. I still don’t know what she meant but even three years later I haven’t forgotten it.
9) We were casually sitting on a bench when, out of nowhere, she asked me: “Is it just me or have humans gotten dumber? Or have they always been this stupid and I just haven’t been paying attention?”
10) She asked me if I ever wondered what it was like to die. I said no but told her I would tell her when I found out. I meant it as a ghost joke but she smiled at me and said:
“Great. I’ll wait for you to come back. Maybe you’ll even remember me.”
In conclusion, she is some kind of low-key god and she lost her faith in humanity even before we lost our faith in her but she’s stuck with us because immortality is a bitch.
P.S. I just remembered her name is a variation on ‘Eve’. Maybe I should reconsider my atheist status?!
This scene actually works better as stills
Someone told my ex-dad (not a sex thing; he just disowned me) that I’m trans and now he’s threatening to come to work and make a scene, and I know I should be upset, but like. What’s he gonna say exactly? And to whom? Because imagining a haggard and likely shitfaced Pennsylvania construction worker barging through the grocery store like, “HEY!!! THAT BROAD-HIPPED 5'3” EFFEMINATE KID WITH THE CONSPICUOUSLY BIZARRE NAME WHO SPEAKS IN A CARTOONISHLY AFFECTED CARICATURE OF MASCULINITY AIN’T GOT NO DICK!!! YOU GONNA BUY SCRATCH OFF TICKETS FROM SOME KINDA DICKLESS ABOMINATION??“ is wild. What’s it going to accomplish? Or is he gonna call my manager? “HELLO, I’D LIKE TO REPORT A FRAUD IN YOUR DELI DEPARTMENT. THERE IS NOT SAUSAGE AS ADVERTISED.” What the fuck.
Odds are he’s more embarrassed of having a trans ex-kid than I am of being outed at work, so what if I go to his job and tell everyone I’m trans first? What then, coward?
That’s such a power move.
This is exactly the struggle I’m having with my own mother right now and honestly? i sort of did that, but at the church i grew up in. my mom was like “oh so what if i tell the whole church youre trans” as if she had forgotten that nearly everyone who goes to my church is actually gay, like elderly retired gay couples, so i was like “haha okay,” and told everyone.
And lemme just say, watching a 5'2", 87 year old gay man stop my mother mid-sentance to say “Actually, I think he prefers to go by Aiden now.” was the BIGGEST dick energy ive ever seen.
excellent power move.
Superman’s real superpower is finding white button up shirts opaque enough to hide a bright red, blue, & yellow Superman logo underneath without it showing through.
When medication says "do not operate heavy machinery" they're probably mainly referring to cars, but my mind always goes to forklift.
My mine has literally NEVER gone to cars.
“…last year this photograph of children looking at their smartphones by Rembrandt’s ‘The Night Watch’ in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam [went viral.] It was often accompanied by outraged, dispirited comments such as “a perfect metaphor for our age,” “the end of civilization” or “a sad picture of our society”.
…It turns out that the Rijksmuseum has an app that, among other things, contains guided tours and further information about the works on display. As part of their visit to the museum, the children, who minutes earlier had admired the art and listened attentively to explanations by expert adults, had been instructed to complete an assignment by their school teachers, using, among other things, the museum’s excellent smartphone app….
The tragic thing is that this — the truth — will never go viral. So, I wonder, what is more likely to bring about the death of civilization, children using smartphones to learn about art or the willful ignorance of adults who are too quick to make assumptions?” José Picardo, Medium
Read more
#adults are fucking idiots#me included but i mean proper adults#like old adults
My first thoughts were mean ones and im fucking young
Nokkasili - https://nokkasili.tumblr.com - https://twitter.com/nokkasili?lang=es - https://society6.com/nokkasili - https://www.redbubble.com/es/people/katriinaka
all these deadpool comic runs are ridiculous. Deadpool vs This. Deadpool kills That.
how about Deadpool Has a Nice Day? Deadpool Is Validated by His Peers. Someone Loves Deadpool Because of His Flaws Not in Spite of Them. Something Nice Happens to Deadpool and It Is Not Immediately Ripped Away from Him by a Cold and Unfeeling Universe.
did deadpool write this.
I heard you like bad girls. Well I’m bad
At everything
*winks at you with both eyes*
some of you have never had a customer service job and it shows
it’s ninety-nine degrees outside, four fuck-thousand percent humidity, and my husband was like, “i’m gonna go for a bike ride.” and i was like “why. no. why. don’t put us on the news like that. local fool collapses on unnecessary journey. don’t do it.” so he says he doesn’t want to “hide in the house” because the sun is shining. bruh. honeybruh. “the sun is shining” does not cover it. its hot outside. its motherfucking hot as fuck outside. our outdoor plants have been crying into their hands all week. whole cars are melting into the sewer. our fucking patio umbrella developed sentience to ask me for lemonade this morning
@robotmango, you need to work for the weather forecast - this was both hilarious and so vivid it made me stand up and get some iced tea.
this is a great idea, thank you. here goes. my audition tape for the weather channel. dearly beloved. we are gathered here today to have a fucking funeral for the outdoors. it had a good run, with all its creeks and clouds and shit. pretty great. now it’s ten-thirty at night but still ninety-two asshole-sweating degrees and humid as fuck. everything is hot and slimy, like being a “borrower” that got trapped inside a bottle of shampoo and then accidentally microwaved. you can see on my doppler radar that nothing is moving around out there because everything is probably dead. the only alive thing is the mosquito currently trying to drill a hole in my leg. no surprise that all the shitbag mosquitos are fine, since the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature. this forecast has gotten away from me a little, but in conclusion fuck the sun
I think I’ve reblogged this before, but “the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature” is fucking poetry
a family doesn’t have to be a man and a woman. a family can be a wizard, his apprentice, the fire demon who ate his heart, his cleaning lady who’s under a curse and in love with him, a senile witch who used to be his greatest enemy, a dog which belongs to his ex teacher and also enemy, a random cursed prince along for the ride, and their walking magic house
after dying god informs you that hell is a myth, and “everyone sins, its ok”. instead the dead are sorted into six “houses of heaven” based on the sins they chose.
We arrived first at the House of Lust. “House” is a misleading term. It was more of a camp, spread over acres and acres of lush forest. There was a white sandy beach (nude, of course) full of copulating couples. There were little cabins sprinkled all along the path, from which orgasmic moans regularly came belting out. Men with six pack abs and women with perky breasts strolled by without even noticing me and God. They only had eyes for each other, tickling and pinching each other with flirtatious giggles.
“What do you think?” God asked as we passed a nineteen-way taking place in a pool of champagne. Little cherubs flitted overhead armed with mops and cleaning supplies, thankfully. “Lust is our most popular sin.” I eyed the supermodel-like figures of a couple passing nearby, and could easily see why. “You can look however you want. Hell, you can be whatever gender you want. No fetish is too taboo, and no desire can be denied here.”
It was quite tempting, but I wasn’t ready to make a permanent decision here. “Let’s see the others,” I told God.
We carried on to Greed. We passed rows and rows of mansions, each more opulent than the next. Some of them were so large that they would have had enough bed rooms to fit my entire hometown. And so many different styles: one second, we were in a beautiful French vineyard in front of a gorgeous chateau with the Alps in the background. The next second, a warm tropical beach with a modern mansion atop breathtaking cliffs. After that, a ski chalet in Colorado with a roaring fire in a hearth large enough to fit an ox. Each one had various Italian sports cars and Rolls Royces parked in front, with the occasional smattering of boats, helicopters, etc.
“Any material desire you ever wanted,” God explained. “Your own world, where you can have everything. You want the Hope Diamond? You can fly to Washington DC in your own solid gold helicopter and buy it from the Smithsonian. Hell, you can just buy the Smithsonian.”
Also tempting, but I decided to keep looking.
Gluttony was next up. Tables and tables of the very finest foods: beautiful steaks cooked medium rare; butter-poached lobster tail; fresh oysters on a half shell; exotic wines in dusty bottles that had been hiding in the cellars of the world’s finest restaurants. Everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and simply lounged on couches and chairs near the tables, eating endlessly. As soon as the inhabitants took a bite, the food just instantly came back. My mouth watered even watching them.
“In every other House, the food is practically sawdust compared to Gluttony,” God explained. “You haven’t truly experienced heaven until you’ve been to Gluttony.”
I shook my head, and we kept moving.
Sloth was as you’d expect. An endless sea of the softest mattresses, stacked with cushions and pillows that made the story of the princess and the pea seem minimalist. Little angels visited each resident, giving them massages that made them all melt into their blankets.
Wrath was… well, a lot like what I’d expect Hell to be like. Fire, brimstone, whips, torture.. you know, the works. Except here, you weren’t the one being tortured. Every enemy you’d ever made in your real life was now under your thumb. “Lots of people choose their fathers,” God explained. “Lots of grudges against parents in general, you know. But you’re not limited to that. Someone beat you out for a big promotion back on Earth? Take your pound of flesh here.”
Then we arrived at Envy. It looked… well, a lot like home.
“Go on in,” God said, gesturing toward the door. I turned the knob and walked in… and found Emily waiting inside. She ran forward, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss right on my lips. “Welcome home, honey.”
I looked back toward God. “Oh, don’t be coy,” he said. “You have no secrets from me. We all know that you were in love with your best friend’s wife.” She didn’t seem to hear him at all; she went back into the hall. “We all know that you just settled for your own wife while secretly pining after her. Well, this is your chance to live happily ever after.”
I peered into the kitchen. Emily was baking something, wearing nothing but an apron. Her curly black hair fell softly over her shoulder as she whisked ingredients. She turned back, noticed I was observing her, and an enthusiastic smile spread across her face.
“It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” God whispered in my ear.
I wanted to take it. God damn did I want to take it. But I shook my head.
God seemed puzzled. “You need to make a decision,” he told me.
“I haven’t seen Pride yet.”
He scoffed. “No one ever wants Pride, trust me.”
“Well, I want to see it.”
_________________________
Pride was boring. Just a row of workbenches in a bare white room.
“I don’t get it,” I told God.
“Yeah, no one does,” he answered. “That’s why no one ever chooses it. Doesn’t cavorting in Lust sound better than sitting here building little trinkets for the rest of eternity? Wouldn’t you rather gorge yourself in Gluttony? Or spend time with Emily in Envy?”
I considered the options again. “I pick Pride,” I finally told him.
He narrowed his eyes. “What? Look at it!” He gestured around the room again. There wasn’t much to look at. “Why would you choose this for the rest of time?”
“Because you don’t want me to pick it,” I told him. If he was really God, he’d know what a contrarian I can be. And I knew he was hiding something, trying to pretend like Pride didn’t exist. There was something special about it.
God scowled back. “Fine.” He led me over to one of the workbenches. In the center, there was a black space. A blank, empty void that went on forever. “Here’s your universe,” he said. “You’ve got seven days to get started.” He took his seat at the bench next to me and went back to tinkering in his own world. After a long pause, he finally spoke again: “You know, it might be nice for me to actually have some company for once.”
FUCKING I MEAN.
IT’S LIKE 7AM AND I LOVE GONNA REBLOG SO I CAN READ THIS SHIT AGAIN
One of my fave things abt queer eye is when the gays do the thing where theyre super affectionate or they jump on a bed and roll around and hug and have a good time and then the like het cis man theyre currently helping like freezes for a second and isnt sure what to make of it before they take a step over the edge of fighting some of that internalized toxic masculinity and then goes!!!! “Hey guys look out here i come!!!!!” And the fab 5 are alwayS SO well receiving in it and welcome them and its just. So nice. Thats what we need.
