Random stuff @me-idalyem - Tumblr Blog

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one-time-i-dreamt

olliren-blog

akiglancy-deactivated20200123

gayest sport on earth

iridescentsenpai

somebody’s obviously never heard of turkish oil wrestling

iseewhatyoudidier-deactivated20

WHAT

hayleyzorel

OH MY GOD I AM CRYING

casey-jane-lewis

you have not LIVED until you’ve seen live Turkish oil wrestling.

boredbaristasblog

why is he putting his hand in his pants

gardengnosticator-deactivated20

That’s how you win. By securing a grip on the “kisbet” (the special type of pants the wrestlers wear) and then pinning the opponent is how victory is achieved. The loser will then kiss the victor’s hand as a sign of respect and admiration.

mystraknits-deactivated20160402

that sport was so made up as an explanation for two guys getting caught going at it

fruityrudys

guys they oil each other up im crying here

onecrazycanuck

This post literally gets gayer each time it appears on my dash. What the fuck?!?! This is like the most elaborate act that ever required a constant “no homo” to be chimed.

gekaidaimonmichiko

Some guy, having stumbled upon 2 of his close friends locked in a heated embrace, covered in oil, with their hands in each other’s pants: Bro, what the fuck are you guys doing?!

Gay dude about to make up Turkish oil wrestling: Oh, haven’t you heard?

fuckyahumor

lmaooooooooo

meteorherd

sometimes people go “i won’t follow if your interests aren’t similar to mine” and yeah i get it but also what’s the point of the tumblr experience if you don’t see your mutuals be utterly incomprehensible on your dash every day. sometimes i learn stuff through osmosis sometimes my mutuals get me into stuff sometimes i end up getting my mutuals into stuff its so much fun

anyskin

Incredible colorised footage from 1929 of construction workers on the Chrysler Building in New York.

saurs4thtry

I’m just impressed that it has audio

theresistance2

If you wanted solid, definitive proof that the past did, in fact, happen, here it is.

thatorigamiguy-deactivated20220

I’m surprised the structure was able to support the weight of every set of BRASS FUCKING BALLS on all of those construction workers. Pre-safety gear/OCEA was wilding man.

that-catholic-shinobi

The Chrysler Building had zero fatalities during construction. But the osha violations hurt my soul

the-mighty-birdy-deactivated202

TERRIFYING

auggusst

Do any scholars have answers as to why people don’t sound like this anymore? Like the accent is still the same in New York today but the cadence of the words and the length/speed is totally different. When and why did this change?

dyscomancer

I know we're making fun of twitter a lot for being the place where all the weirdos went after tumblr imploded, but goddamn I miss shit like this

fixomnia-scribble

Some days, Twitter is a simmering hellbroth. Other days, the landscape is made glorious by people like this.

catchymemes

space-madge

fernlom

I’ve heard this so much, it’s so horrible to hear but it’s true and it happens a lot

punkconcert

John Mulaney, a true ADHD icon

somewhat-honest-abe

I love how he gave this bit at an autism benefit because it is also a heavy Autism Mood™

gh0sthoodie

This is the most relatable thing I’ve ever seen.

vulpeculavolans

TRANSCRIPT:

JOHN MULANEY: I normally don’t notice people. I zone out constantly. Have you ever zoned out for a few minutes? I’ve been zoned out since 2014.

AUDEINCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: I just - all day long, I wander into traffic walking like Charlie Chaplin, listening to a podcast while thinking about a different podcast.

AUDIENCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: I can zone out anywhere - I was at the doctor’s office, he was reading me the results of a blood test, it was important I listened, and I zoned out! I was like, “nah, I’m gonna stare at the wall and think my thoughts”.

AUDIENCE MEMBER WHOOPS

MULANEY: I was like, “huh. None of the Beatles had moustaches… but then one day, all of them had moustaches.”

AUDIENCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: “That’s weird, I can’t think of a time a group has done that”. Some people in my life don’t want me to zone out as much - they want me to focus, and they want me to be in the moment, and they want me to do this by meditating. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried meditating, but I’ve been trying it. This is how you meditate, okay? You sit on the floor with your back perfectly straight, which I hate more than ISIS -

AUDIENCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: I don’t like sitting up straight! Alright?! It’s never gonna happen! If meditating was sitting hunched over on the toilet with your elbow on your knee while kind of looking at your phone, I’d be the Dalai Lama.

AUDIENCE LAUGHS/APPLAUDS

MULANEY: I don’t like sitting up straight. So you sit up straight, and you breathe, and this helps you stay in the moment. Don’t bother! The moment is mediocre at best!

AUDIENCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: I mean, it’s fine. Let’s all try right now - let’s all be in the moment, in silence, right now. [A HALF-SECOND PAUSE] Sucked, right? Not fun at all!

AUDIENCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: That was boring! You gotta zone out! You have an imagination! You have a movie theatre in your brain that plays fake arguments that you win.

AUDIENCE LAUGHS/APPLAUDS

MULANEY: Have you ever just been sitting there thinking about something for twenty, twenty-five minutes, and all of a sudden you’re like “oh my god, I’m driving!” and you remember? You’re like -

AUDIENCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: “I’m going seventy-five miles an hour! I have been for a while! I could’ve changed so many lives!” Sometimes, my wife - I have this wife - she’ll be like, “are you watching the road?” and I’m always like, “I am looking through the windshield.”

AUDIENCE LAUGHS

MULANEY: “And I’m not gonna hit anyone, but no. I’m thinking about the Beatles.”

whatsitnot

Hey @vulpeculavolans added a transcript to this AND THAT IS SO AWESOME THANK YOU SO MUCH!

worstseawitch

“I’m gonna stare at the wall and think my thoughts.” Is my true ADHD/Autism experience lmaoooo

y-that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick

Did I reblog this yet? Who knows? But it has been done as of now.

scenesandscreens

Gattaca (1997)

Director - Andrew Niccol, Cinematography - Sławomir Idziak

"For someone who was never meant for this world, I must confess I'm suddenly having a hard time leaving it. Of course, they say every atom in our bodies was once part of a star. Maybe I'm not leaving... maybe I'm going home."

inkskinned

it’s not about that i know how to do laundry. it’s that when i was four i knew how to fold clothes; small hands working alongside my mother, while my older brother sat and played with his toys. it’s that i know what kind of detergent works but my father guesses. it’s that in my freshman year of college i had a line of boys who needed me to show them how to use the machine. it’s that the first door they knocked on belonged to me. it’s that they expected me to know.

it’s not that i know how to cook. it’s that the biggest christmas present i got was a little plastic kitchenette i never used except to climb on. it’s that my brother used it more, his hands ghosting over pink buttons and yellow dials. it’s that when my work needs cake for a birthday, they turn to me. i get it from costco. i don’t even like cooking. a boy burns popcorn in the dorm microwave and laughs. a week later, i do the same thing, and he snorts at me, “just crossed you off my wife list.” it’s that i had heard something like this so many times before that i laughed, too.

it’s not that i don’t love being feminine. it’s that i came home with bruises from trying to be a trick rider on my bike and heard the word “tomboy,” felt my little mouth say, “but i’m not a boy, i’m a girl”. it’s that they laughed. it’s that until i was sitting in my pretty dress and smiling with a big pretty smile and blinking my big pretty eyes, i wasn’t given back the title “girl”. it’s that until i wore makeup and styled my hair i was bullied; it’s that when i don’t wear makeup i’m a slob, that my mental health diagnosis hangs on the hook of being dressed up. it’s that my therapist sees me returning to bright red lipstick and tells me i am looking happier and i have to explain that i am more sad than i have ever been. it’s that i dress myself in as many layers as i can every time i ride a train because it’s better to be laughed at than harassed.

it’s not that i know how to clean, it’s that my brother’s chores were outside where i wanted to be, and mine were inside. it’s that i would have weeded the garden better than he did if they had just let me. it’s that i am put in charge of fixing other’s messes, expected to comply without complaint.

it’s not that i can’t open the jar. it’s that you ask my brother first every time. it’s that i am pushed into docile positions, trained to believe that my body when it’s strong and healthy is ugly, trained into being less, weaker. it’s that the jar is also science, is also engineering, is also every job, every opportunity. it’s that you laugh faster when he tells a joke, that you take him seriously but wave off me, that when he raises his voice he’s assertive but when i do i’m hysterical. the jar is getting into a car with a stranger as a driver and wondering if this is our last ride. the jar is knowing that if something happens to us, it’s our fault.

it’s that i’m weak and i don’t know if it’s because i just am or i was trained to be. it’s that we need to sit pretty with our pretty smiles and our pretty words trapped pretty and silent in our throats, our hands restless but pretty when idle, our bodies vessels for nothing but a future white dress. it’s that we are taught someone else needs to open the jar for us.

here’s the secret: run metal lids under hot water, they’ll expand faster than the glass they’re around. here’s the secret: when you keep us under hot water, we do more than boil. we expand over our edges. and we learn how to open our mouths, our claws, our screams hanging in kites over cities. just give me a chance. give me a chance when i am four when i am seven when i am twenty-three. i promise i can be amazing. give me the jar. i’ll show you something.