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Janaina Medeiros
Not today Justin

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DEAR READER

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blake kathryn
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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JVL

@theartofmadeline
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@mrmarielda
knuckle tats that say PREV PREV
Suspiria (1977) dir. Dario Argento
2-YEAR CHEDDAR
from GRAFTON VILLAGE
I usually try to review cheeses virginally - that is, ones that I’ve never had before. In this case, this is a cheddar I’ve had many times before. But I couldn’t leave it off the blog, what with its obvious appeal to leather and rubber fetishists.
As far as cheddars go, Grafton’s 2-year aged isn’t going to shock you. It’s mild, light on the salt, with a slightly sweet and grassy flavour. It’s got a nice texture. It’s dense, more moist than I expected, and smooth.
So what is the deal with the gummi suit on this cheese anyway? Well, cheese has obviously been around a lot longer than fridges. Fresh cheeses like mozzarella are too moist to last very long outside of a cold place (bacteria and fungi do so love damp places), though I don’t think anyone was too mad about eating that stuff quickly. But cheeses that have been aged (and dried) more have some more preservation options, which is where cheese wax comes in. The wax is a physical barrier, stopping fungal spores from landing, and also blocks moisture and air, making the cheese a pretty unfriendly place to grow. Even drier cheeses can be bandaged in cheesecloth and then slathered in lard to preserve them while allowing some ventilation.
I gotta admit: hot wax isn’t really my thing. But cheesecloth bondage and grease… it has potential.
this site used to be awesome
you have to be careful reading too many things that are good/smart/well-written bc then you encounter something that isnt and you get confused like ? why didnt they just make this good ? were they stupid
not having a computer that runs games for like 3 years did mean that thats the longest ive gone without replaying a dragon age game since i got into dragon age when i was 18. and unfortunately having one that Does run games now does mean im like. i could play every dragon age at once...... honey you dont need to do that. you know what happens in dragon age. its okay. its okay.
Among these "cishet" Dragon Age men, who would you make queer?
Alistair
Loghain
Sebastian
Cullen
Blackwall
Solas
Someone else (leave in tags)
As a transsexual woman 👩 who has had multiple experiences ‼️ I have found 🔎 that the biggest block of cheese 🧀 is usually the one ☝️ that has the largest size 📈
mature content
a hop a skip and a jump event is really cute
Ladies and gentlemen, Gay Blade
i dont know how people handle the world without looking at pictures of little tiny mice sitting on wheat
powerful…
absolutely looosssinggg it. i'm so obsessed with movies which portray the woman MC in a highly specific job because the writers clearly think it's like "off-beat" and "quirky" but have no idea how the field works whatsoever.
i decided to try a romcom i somehow missed i the 2000s 'head over heels' and i got 3 and a half minutes in and we're introduced to the lonely MC with bad taste in men as evidenced by her extremely short list of ex boyfriends, including her first boyfriend when she was 11 or something because i guess that's still relevant in her adult life.
so she's resigned herself to never finding love and prefers to ignore men to focus all her energy into her career.
this job is immediately presented as though it's for spinsters with no hope of ever finding a man.
the mc's lesbian bestie (whose first line involves her being scolded for being too sexual in the workplace, but moving on) points out their colleagues as evidence that they're doomed to a romance-less, sexless life if they don't switch up their shared career path. the colleagues are three old women, so-dubbed "the menopause triplets":
these women are presented as if they have no idea what's going on at any given moment. this is 2001, and presumably this is an entry level job requiring low effort and no experience.
then their boss bursts into the room, unceremoniously bumping a large painting into the door jam and walls, announcing that it's a new project for our MC.
our MC is thrilled to see the painting. apparently it's a light in the daily slog at her dreary job for loser women with nothing going on in their lives.
And that job is? Conservator of paintings (specializing in Renaissance) at the New York City Metropolitan Museum of Art.
The painting being handled like an old couch on its way to the curb?
The Bacchanal of the Andrians by Titian.
Her lesbian colleague who is presumably also a a highly trained & skilled curator finds it depressing that the MC is so excited about the painting.
it's a quirk unique to this MC that she cares so much about paintings, in her department at the metropolitan museum of art, where her colleagues find all that art business rather dreary. because we all know that's what conservators in extremely competitive museum positions are like.
I'm not saying there can't be lifelong love in here somewhere but I also just feel like the monogamous heterosexual marriage you're fantasizing about isn't necessarily best represented by the bacchanal. and that's okay. but i do stand by that.
i know im going to have such a great time with iwtv s3 because every time i see an image of rockstar lestat i go wow... he looks bad <3
Hey! It’s been a while. Have a Qifrey!
Also as a small announcement: I changed my name! The old one started to feel boring to me personally.
farcille isn't "toxic yuri." nothing remotely toxic about them, they both treat each other with a great deal of care and affection and respect. just because marcille is willing to do forbidden necromancy and arguably cannibalism for her wife doesn't make her toxic that's just what you do for a woman with broad shoulders
[“I was off to see Eric, my on-and-off boyfriend of three years. He was having friends ’round to celebrate moving out of his parents’ home and into his first apartment. Halfway through our ride there, my Nokia cell phone rang. Eric was on the other end. A string of panicked sentences made their way through the airwaves.
“I don’t know how to cook the chicken! I don’t know what to do! People are arriving in an hour! It was a stupid idea to have people over! I should never have done this! This was your dumb idea!”
Gray streets of Brussels flashed by. I quietly listened and took in the information. Gradually, a picture started to form in my head. Eric, a man who believed that meals were not real meals if they did not contain protein of a formerly alive kind, had bought chicken to make for dinner but did not know how to cook it. I had been a vegetarian since I was eight. Clearly, I didn’t know how to cook chicken, either. I was pretty sure this had been his initiative, not mine. But that’s not what I said.
“There is absolutely no need to worry. It’s all going to be completely fine. I can make the chicken when I arrive. Couldn’t be easier. What else do you have in the fridge? Have you prepared anything?” I asked.
Dessert, the answer came back, a little calmer this time. If I felt exasperation, I didn’t let the feeling live for more than a nanosecond. Patience, reassurance, and love were what I knew I should give, and that’s what I expressed.
“Amazing,” I chirpily said into the phone. “I love it when you make that. Okay. Don’t worry about the rest. I will figure something out to go with the chicken and make some sides when I arrive. I have pesto with me. We can do something with that. So delicious.”
His mood shifted: I could almost hear it lift. He was totally calm now. The panic had gone. His voice was slower; it had gone back to a cadence that suggested a more relaxed, happy state of mind.
“Are you good? Sorry you had that scare,” I continued, bringing my task to a secure conclusion. “I will be there very shortly.”
He muttered acquiescence, possibly thanks. “I can’t wait to see you,” I finished, and pressed the button to end the call.
I put the phone back in my lap, my shoulders dropped, and I breathed out, letting go of some of the anxiety I had been suppressing and feeling relief that I had contained the situation. In my head, I hadn’t even arrived at the part of how I was going to cook this dinner. I had absolutely no idea what to do with raw chicken, the very fleshy peachy vision of which was enough to make my stomach turn. But that wasn’t the point. The point was rather getting my boyfriend to feel good, calm, and collected again. What was important—I had known immediately upon picking up the phone—was conveying that the situation was under control to him, even if it wasn’t yet. The concrete cooking activity ahead was truly secondary.
I looked at my mother. She smiled. That’s when I remember her saying it: “You are an excellent man manager. You handled that brilliantly. I couldn’t be more impressed.”
Man manager, I repeated back to myself after she said it. I turned my body in the passenger seat toward her. I had never heard the term, and I had no conscious idea it was something I should be striving toward, let alone something I had been performing. But I felt the glow of the compliment, and some kind of a shift in her words, a complicity, perhaps even a new form of respect.
We moved on to discuss ways to cook chicken and what to do with the pesto. She told me about timing and oven temperatures, and even how I should handle the chicken to cut it. My mother incidentally also didn’t eat meat, for health reasons, but she had learned how to prepare it and cook it to make the stomachs of the people around her happy.
As unremarkable as it may sound, I never forgot the pesto chicken man manager exchange between my mother and me. Today, it’s clear to me that this is the first time I can pinpoint the emotional labor I performed, as a part of my gender and to the benefit of a man, explicitly being acknowledged and elevated.”]
rose hackman, from emotional labor: the invisible work shaping our lives and how to claim our power, 2023
Unique trick to take longer to boil water useful in kitchen prep for longer cook times and taking longer to boil water