The sheer energy. The beauty of this woman. The women hugging in the background. The man in rainbow parachute pants. This whole video is art.
XXI. The World
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@laughing-angels
The sheer energy. The beauty of this woman. The women hugging in the background. The man in rainbow parachute pants. This whole video is art.
XXI. The World
A series of events:
1. I put in an Annual Leave request form almost 3 weeks ago and my boss has not approved it yet
2. I went into my office today and replaced every single writing utensil with crayons in preparation for April Fools Day on Monday
3. Whilst searching for pens to remove, I found my unsigned Annual Leave form in my boss’s drawer
4. I placed my unsigned Annual Leave form in a photo frame and put it on his desk
5. The frame I used was from a photo of his kids that I deemed less important than my Leave form
6. My boss sometimes goes into the office on Saturdays to work
7.
Happy 2 year anniversary to the post that my old boss allegedly now has framed in his office, next to the recovered photo of his children.
"this is unbecoming of me" is genuinely a useful thing to have in your mental toolbox
one-sided platonic feelings always hit me so hard. like. i want you to love me like a son, but to you i’m not much more than a servant. i swore our oath of brotherhood out of real devotion, and you swore it out of convenience. i want to go to the ends of the earth and the depths of hell for you and follow you until the end of time, and in your mind that’s no more than what i owe you
So my family has a Gay Pirate Plate.
Stay with me.
We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.
I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence.
It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.
(How do we know the pirate is gay if he’s just posing on a plate? Listen. Fully 100% to stereotype, but he is. He is gay. There’s an energy. That pirate is a flaming homosexual. That pirate has sex with men and does it frequently. That pirate is fucking gay, all right, he just is.)
Anyway. The point is that this is an extremely cheap and ugly plate with a poorly-executed painting of pirate on it who is like a nine on the Kinsey scale.
My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.
When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.
We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.
Me, my sister, and our dad. Her brother.
The three of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.
I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.
Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE–”
Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my dad’s house currently.
But he’s trying to get me and my sister out to visit him. And plate mounts are cheap.
The rules of Gay Pirate Plate are simple by the way.
The plate must be clearly and openly displayed in a place of great prominence whenever it is in your possession. When it is not in your possession, the display piece must remain in place. This is where you would put your gay pirate plate, IF YOU HAD ONE.
No active steps may be taken to prevent the theft of the Gay Pirate Plate. That goes against the spirit of the game, as does attempting to hide it.
The plate MUST be stolen and cannot be gifted or removed with permission. Should you witness attempted theft of the Gay Pirate Plate you are required to intervene and return it to its place.
Every time your sibling successfully absconds with the Gay Pirate Plate, you must respond with indignant fury, as if you have not also repeatedly and blatantly stolen the Gay Pirate Plate.
WOE
PLATE BE UPON YE
STATUS UPDATE
I texted this image to my family at around 2am their time last night and woke up to appropriately indignant messages about theft, betrayal, etc.
nothing could have prepared me for how gay the gay pirate plate was
bam boom. giants deep paint. *explodes*
YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN HANDLE CRITIQUE. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN EMBRACE BEING TOLD YOU WERE WRONG. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN ACCOMPLISH UNPLEASANT TASKS. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN DELIVER DISAPPOINTING NEWS. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU KNOW HOW TO BE DISAGREED WITH. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN BE CORRECTED. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN BE TOLD YOU MESSED UP. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU ARE ABLE TO DO HARD THINGS.
do you think two pennies is still enough for the ferryman or has inflation driven up the fare
if he makes me use an app I am simply not crossing the river Styx.
ps5 brain monday
Oh so THIS is the ps5 post. I can see why you all imprinted on it now that’s hilarious
happy 1 year ps5 brain monday
happy 2 year ps5 brain monday
happy 3 year ps5 brain monday
Happy 4 year ps5 brain monday
why don't you agitate the contents of a barrel full of cream for a while then reach your hand inside and maybe you'll feel butter
”How come you’ve never seen the Amazon rainforest if you’re from Brazil?” big country
Here, this should make it clearer:
Wait, hold on, I can illustrate it in a funnier way
There’s around one and a half Frances between me and the Amazon rainforest.
I had no idea “coach” could also mean “bus” until like, a second ago and I stared at your reply in disbelief for a good minute because I thought you were telling me to do the trip in a horse-drawn carriage. I was like “Coach?! Like Cinderella?! Where would I even get- that HAS to be slower than a car!”
You should be able to listen to a full album without looking at your phone. You should be able to watch a 3 hour film from beginning to end without checking social media. If you can't do this, you need to start training your attention span as if it were a physical muscle. I don't experience boredom or restlessness because I've trained my brain to not be dependent on quick stimuli and dopamine hits. If you can't chill on a park bench while waiting for a friend with just your imagination to keep you company, you need to learn how to do it ASAP because one day we may not have access to the internet.
sorry it took so long to get back to you but I think this covers it