One Nice Bug Per Day
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@theartofmadeline
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Game of Thrones Daily
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AnasAbdin
Not today Justin
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Misplaced Lens Cap
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Kaledo Art

Love Begins

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#extradirty
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@dandywriting-blog
Plagued by game of thrones
Dyana has been watching Game of Thrones quite a lot. After a while, it started to invade her dreams. As a phone call set off the Colombian music ring tone on her iphone, Dy dreamed that Edard Stark and Robert Berathian showed up on horseback, threatening her with their swords. The ringtone came through into her dreams, and the old kings said, "Dance, dance, or we'll behead you!" Fortunately she realized it was her phone, and woke up.
Cecelia
It has been a long time since I wrote. This is about a little person that i should have found time to blog about this terrible, busy winter. Dyana and I made a daughter named Cecelia. Cecelia died while still in the womb today, through no one's fault. She flew as an angel to heaven, leaving behind a beautiful sculpture where her spirit was. She and our son Charles will always be remembered,
James Jean
Can Retail Department Stores End?
Others must think this way too, I know, and maybe even write about it. If not about department stores, then about other instruments of civilization.
Working in a retail Department store, it seems like the system will never collapse. The people, material base, and audiovisual messages are constantly shifting, but the store keeps persisting. It is relentless and seemingly eternal, giving the impression that something other than customers' money or corporate multinational powers sustain it.
I don't see product being shipped in; I don't see the criteria by which it and the employees are evaluated. I only see the continuation, which sustains me in turn.
Patricio Betteo
Not my job
"I dream i am working and it isn’t my job. It is a symbolic dream; it symbolizes wanting to get out of work. I forget a lot of the dream as soon as I wake up."
-- Anonymous
Uh-Oh
It was Justin’s first day as a priest.
He would say all the words, waft the incense, Consecrate the bread and the wine; the whole thing. He was scared and excited, and tried his best to feel the Holy Spirit in every part of his being.
But something felt wrong, like a little pebble in the road ready to trip him.
Mass began, and the parishioners sang the hymns for that day. The musicians played. Justin gave his homily, on which he had worked very hard.
He noticed that there was quite a bit of discussion among the parishioners as he spoke. He tried to just plough ahead and not let it get to him.
Everyone then joined in professing their faith by way of the Nicene Creed, and the collection baskets were passed around.
Finally it came time to make everything ready for communion.
"Giving them a piece of bread, he said, take this all of you and eat of it, for this is my body which will be given u--" "Nice delivery Justin, but you shouldn't have quit your day job!" It was his uncle Dudley. He tried to keep his mind clear and filled with purpose. He went on.
“Taking a chalice, he said, ‘take this all of you and drink from it, for this is the chalice of my blood, the blood of the new and eternal covenant, which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of si--" "Justin!" This time it was his mother. "Where's my hot plate? I know your sister borrowed it!" Justin was beginning to break down. It was as if his service to the church had awakened a troublesome creature that slept within each of his closest family members. It was scrabbling at the door; it was both annoying and persistent. He tried once more. "Deliver us, O lord, from every evil, that in your mercy--" "Justin, my balls need a scratch, if you wouldn't mind." His cousin. His composure finally shattered. "By all that's sacred under the father, son, and Holy Spirit, shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" He felt as though he was suffocating, and frantically pulled off his robes. He respectfully handed them to another priest. "I'm sorry, father Philip, I can't do this. I'm going to find God's real path for me." Justin felt a great sense of peace as he walked out of the church. The priesthood was perfectly good for some, but obviously Jesus, his greatest teacher, was pointing him toward other pursuits.
Various people
I notice there are those who approach a cashier with down-turned eyes, mouth set in an almost grim mask, trying to be stone perhaps. They do not like promotions or sales pitches; they act as though I am offering them sex for money or trying to make them join a cult that promises salvation in exchange for some objectionable deed.
Others are expansive, friendly. They may also refuse a redcard, but do so with understanding, compassion, or even cheerfulness.