Writer Block Insured

[nerwriter]

Advice from an Asexual

So first off, I have never had a boyfriend, a girlfriend, or significant other. I very much do not want one. I like companionship, friends, hugs, discussion, but anything more is unwanted and not sought out from me. I am making this blog because my friends, both straight and non-straight tend to ask me for relationship advice- completely ignoring the above statement.

               So, first part I’m going to talk about. Seemingly Hetero relationships.

               But wait, just so you know, I fall under the spectrum of DO NOT WANT NOR NEED to know about your sexual activities, I am not interested and do not want details. I don’t, so please, no.

                                       BACKGROUND INFORMATION  

               Anyway, one of my best friends identifies as pansexual. I’m going to refer to her as E. E had had in the past a boyfriend for 6 years, starting from her freshman year of high school. They started dating some time before I meet her. In our Sophomore year of college their relationship began to fail. He had joined the air force and called to a base some hours away from our college. They never communicated very well, unwilling to learn about each other’s interests nor truly trust one and other. In the end the relationship seemed to just be about sex. He was uncomfortable with her being away from him at college, able to cheat on him without her knowing. On the other hand, he called her form the base saying he was only friends with his female co-workers (?), E did not like that. The first semester of our Junior year, the official broke it off. By the second semester she started to date again.

               She got a new boyfriend, let’s call him K. She had only dated one guy before him, and her and the last boyfriend had slept together after a month. She did not know what to do. While they shared the same interest in shows, games, and such, she did not know how to talk to him. E came back confused when they had discussions about food, always left their ‘dates’ with “that was awkward” on her tongue and a general confusion on why he didn’t seem to want sex, and whether or not she actually wanted to have sex with him.

               My advice is simple.

                                        COMMUNICATE

               Talk. Talk about what you like, what you don’t, how comfortable you and your partner are with sex. Talk about food. Talk about childhood memories. Talk about parents, board games, favorite movies, and books. Talk.

               Sex, to me is disgusting. But if you want to have it and take that step. Talk about it. You have too. See what the other person is comfortable with. The relationship is not just about sex. It is about friendship. If you are uncomfortable with the person, then you should not be with them. If you leave them saying “this is awkward” and “talking is weird” then leave. Do not stay with them. If you cannot talk, then you are not in a relationship- or not a healthy one.

               So, talk to your partner, talk about anything under the sun and more. Talk about classes, old teachers, old pets you miss, that one Christmas that you hated, or that one neighbor you had a crush on when you were seven.

               If they cannot be your companion, if they cannot talk to you, then they are not good for you.

Sincerely, 

N.E.R

[disneysdaily]

[kinell]

Did you know that Crush is portrayed “high” because Sea Turtles actually eat jellyfish and the poisons inside the jelly doesn’t actually harm the turtle but instead intoxicates them much like marijuana does for humans.

[disneyismyescape]

i just thought it was because he was supposed to be a “surfer dude”

[carlboygenius]

Correcting Internet DisInformation: The American Space Pen / The Russian Pencil

[earthisalie]

thank you for this.

[fishingboatproceeds]

And then from his initial investment of >$1,000,000, the Fisher Pen Co. was able to make a lot of money and grow the overall size of the U.S. economy and create lots of jobs.

So essentially a story that is supposed to be about government inefficiency turns out to be a story about how the U.S. government worked with a private company to make space travel safer while also stimulating economic growth.

The moral of the story is not that the Soviet Union was more efficient. The moral of the story is that by failing to allow private investment in innovation, the Soviet Union was doomed.

Incidentally, Paul Fisher, who invented the Fisher space pen, was a fascinating guy. He had this plan to eliminate income and property taxes with a progressive asset tax and even ran for President. And the Fisher Space Pen Co. is still a going concern, still employing people, and still generating a return on Fisher’s million-dollar investment.

[iapollogise-deactivated20150405]

I love pirates because they have no concept on albeism. oh you have no leg? here have a peg leg. no hand?? well guess we gotta put a hook on that, give those sons of bitches a surprise. Blind in one eye, put an eyepatch on no one fucking cares, youre deaf??? go man the canons you glorious bastard.They dont care if youre disabled bcus as long as you can fuck shit up they literally dont fucking care.

[iguanamouth]

WHERE are they getting this stuff !!

[paranoidrobot-deactivated201110]

Two churches located across the street from each other. At least the Catholics have a sense of humor.

[nerwriter]

paranoidrobot:

[salmiakkivodka]

If dudes are expected to have a lot of sex

But ladies are expected to stay virgins until marriage

But homosexuality is bad

I’m really confused who dudes are supposed to be having all that sex with

[suntbone]

Guys I got it

Society is literally telling dudes to go fuck themselves

[arcadianparadigm]

I’m sorry I can’t not reblog this

[ultrafacts]

10 Things You Probably Didn’t Know About Disney Parks

More facts on Ultrafacts!

[fall-leaf-love-blog]

There’s one real skull left??? As in there used to be MORE?!

[betterofallevils-deactivated202]

There are trash cans every 26 feet because that is the most steps someone will take before throwing garbage on the ground.

The magic kingdom park is designed like a hub and spoke so you can efficiently get from one area of the park to the other by crossing through the center.

All the sidewalks are painted red so that when the park is crowded your subconscious can recognize the difference in elevation. That way you don’t trip and get trampled by the crowds.

The cast are swapped out every 10 minutes to prevent heat stroke. They tried making water cooled suits but they caused hypothermia.

[2tonsea]

DONT YOU FUCKING TRY TO DISTRACT FROMT HE FACT THAT THERE IS ONE REAL SKULL “LEFT” AT A RIDE

LEFT.

THERE WAS MROE

THERE WAS FUCKING MORE OF THEM WHERE DID THEY GO

[nerwriter]

What Do You Think?

It all started with a bridge. The bridge wasn’t amazing or glamorous, just a plain wooden bridge. Across a deep, dark, endless chasm that lead into nothingness. Dark green leafed vines grew into the wood and lead the way across the bridge.

                On one side of the bridge stood a large castle, with white gleaming stones, half a dozen towers that tried to reach the blue sky. Large windows let you peek inside rooms, but the castle was empty. No man, woman, child, animal, or plant occupied the castle. Instead metal armor stood on guard in silvers and golds, and in another room dishes, pots, and pans incased a large kitchen making it hard to find anything else. Tapestries of the richest blues, purples, reds, and golds hung from walls, telling stories and showing family lines. Furniture of the rarest of woods looked freshly cut though they were years old. Everything was perfect, sparkling like brand new, everything had a place and nothing was out of order.

                In front of the castle and in front of the bridge sat a boy. A child on the ground with yellow honey colored hair and blue eyes that made you think of freshly fallen snow and the pale morning sky when it was just turning blue. He wore rich clothes, a red silken tunic that was embroidered in gold, leather black pants was curled together and tucked into boots. His eyes never strayed from the spot right across the bridge, and he stared and waited. Staring intently at the boy across from him.

                On the other side of the bridge was a large vast land. Mountains colored blue, gray, and purple could be made out from far away. Trees, a hundred and twenty different kinds made up most of the land between the mountains and bridge. Trees that were large and some small, big leaves, small leaves, fruit, flowers and everything in-between. A small meadow could be seen between the trees, with tall grass and multicolored wild flowers. Everything was un-kept, everything was wild, and everything was free.

                In front of the forest and in front of the bridge sat a boy. A child on the ground with inky, pitch black hair, as soft as downy feathers and eyes that made you think of the pale morning sky when it was just turning blue, and freshly fallen snow. He wore rich clothes, a blue silk tunic embroidered in silver, brown leather pants that were old and had some holes. His feet were bare and dirty, and he had smudges of dirt on his face and arms and leaves and twigs sat in his hair. His eyes never strayed from the spot right across the bridge, and he stared and waited. Staring intently at the boy across from him.

                They sat like that for a long while, they sat and stared and sometimes didn’t blink, and sometimes forgot to breath. But they still did not move, they did not get up to eat or get a drink, they just sat and stared and did nothing else. They didn’t know for how long they just sat and stared, for the sky never strayed from its midmorning glory, no cloud blocked the sun, and the sun never moved, it too sat still and unwavering.

                Then something changed.

                Smoke, thick smoke that engulfed everything and made it impossible to see came from within the castle. It moved slowly and soon the entire castle was gone in a cloud. Across the way, the inky black haired boy broke the stare. His eyes widened and he stumbled to his feet and raced to the edge of the bridge. His mouth opened into a scream.

                “ARTHUR!”

                The blond turned to see what caught the others attention and his eyes widen, his face paled, and he scrambled awkwardly to his feet. He turned back towards the bridge and the other boy and took off. He paused for a moment at the edge of his side of the bridge before taking a step. The bridge creaked but held and in moments Arthur raced across. The dark haired boy held out his hand and waited for Arthur to take it. But the smoke seemed to notice that the boy was running and moved silently and swiftly across the small stone path. It moved faster and faster until it unflinchingly began its way across the bridge moving faster than Arthur could ever hope to. Arthur reached the other boy and grabbed his hand, but before he could take the final step the smoke moved forward and consumed him, and his hand slipped away with the rest of him. The black haired boy stared in shock and horror, he couldn’t help but take a step back, his hands shaking and his eyes beginning to tear.

                “No!”

                The smoke stood at the edge of the bridge and did not move, it did not weaver, and it did not tremble and it stayed and it stayed and did not leave. It did not go away. And the dark haired boy moved a step back and sat back down and stared at the smoke, the smoke so thick that it was pure white. Soon the boy began to forget what use to be on the other side of the bridge. He forgot about the white stone walls of the castle, of the shining armor he could see through the window, of the dishes that made it so you could not see anything else in the kitchen, and soon he began to forget about the boy. The boy with honey yellow hair and eyes so like his own. He sat, and he waited, and he forgot.

                Then the smoke surged forward and consumed what was left of the bridge and before the boy could even get up to try and run in consumed him. 

                                A small honey blond head peeked over the edge of a large white wooden cradle. Two blue eyes that made you think of the pale morning sky when it was just turning blue, and freshly fallen snow sparkled brightly as he peered at the little one in the cradle. In the cradle laid a new born baby with a tuff of inky black hair and was looking around the room curious about his new surroundings with newly opened blue eyes that like his older brother made you think of the pale morning sky when it was just turning blue, and freshly fallen snow. The small blond stuffed a small cubby fist through the cradles bars and held his new brother’s hand.

                “Hi Merlin.”

[louisiana-prep]

[typette-deactivated20150825]

The beautiful, extremely poisonous African Bush Viper.

whoa- its a dragon

[writeworld-blog]

Anonymous asked: who are some of your favorite authors? I need new books to read, so I might as well ask the people who are writing geniuses haha

[writeworld-blog]

(So, I wrote this big list for you complete with snarky commentary and book recommendations, then Tumblr ate it. This is the abridged...

[approachingsignificance]

1984 by George Orwell

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

Aesop’s Fables by Aesop

Agnes Grey by Anne Brontë

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Caroll

Andersen’s Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen

Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne

Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche

Bleak House by Charles Dickens

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Dubliners by James Joyce

Emma by Jane Austen

Erewhon by Samuel Butler

For the Term of His Natural Life by Marcus Clarke

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

Grimms Fairy Tales by the Brothers Grimm

Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

Lady Chatterly’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

Middlemarch by George Eliot

Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard by Joseph Conrad

Notes from the Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham

Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens

Paradise Lost by John Milton

Persuasion by Jane Austen

Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen

Sons and Lovers by D. H. Lawrence

Swanns Way by Marcel Proust

Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs

Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Tess of the d’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain

The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Great Gatsby

The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Iliad by Homer

The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells

The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling

The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving

The Odyssey by Homer

The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James

The Prince by Nicolo Machiavelli

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy

The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Tales of Mother Goose by Charles Perrault

The Thirty Nine Steps by John Buchan

The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Duma

The Time Machine by H. G. Wells

The Trial by Franz Kafka

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

Ulysses by James Joyce

Utopia by Sir Thomas More

Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray

Within A Budding Grove by Marcel Proust

Women In Love by D. H. Lawrence

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

[nerwriter]

Forever world

I will find you there,

in our forever world,

where dragons fly,

and no child cries,

in our forever world.

I will find you there,

my friend, my lover, my enemy.

My one and only.

In our Forever world.

[nerwriter]

Neil Gaiman

“Stories that you read when you’re the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called. Sometimes you’ll forget precisely what happened, but if a story touches you it will stay with you, haunting the places in your mind that you rarely visit.” ~M is for Magic,

[thenamelessstory]

If Harry Potter movies were titled by the clothes he wear...

[nerwriter]

thewords-sosweet:

-Harry Potter and My Hogwarts Uniform.

-Harry Potter and I defeated the Basilisk with my Hogwarts Uniform

-Harry Potter and I met my godfather with a blue shirt

-Harry Potter and The red shirt I wear all the movie

-Harry Potter and I wear that blue shirt again

-Harry Potter and I wear that blue shirt again

-Harry Potter and I changed the blue shirt for the red one

-Harry potter and I will confront my fate with my old blue shirt.

[nerwriter]

Mae West

“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.”

[nerwriter]

When the dead dont stay dead (2/?)

February 16, 2012

Seventeen year old Shawn Cornell

              Seventeen, I was now seventeen! I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. Dad had gotten me a car to go with my new licenses and I was having a big party in just a few hours. Things couldn’t be better…

            Back then most news reports had come from the west or even north of me, miles and miles away. I was young, naive in thinking it wouldn’t touch the east coast, that me and my friends were safe.

            An hour before the party started my mom came to visit before her flight to New Orleans. It’s why my dad left her in the first place, she ran, always ran. When I was first born the second she was told she could leave the hospital she left the state. I was amazed she had even turned up to my birthday. She had missed the last eleven. This was the first birthday my dad had missed.

            Her normal tan skin was a sickly greenish white and she had bags under her eyes. I had figured she only came so she could rest for a little bit before heading out again and if it just so happen on her son’s birthday all the better. She had looked bad the day before but it was nothing to how bad she looked now. Her eyes were blood shot, and goose bumps racked up and down her arms.

            If I had known the signs back then maybe I could have down something, anything to help, to fix this mess.

            She ended up staying a while, canceling and rescheduling her flight. The middle of my party she came stumbling down the stairs.

            The party was full swing, all my friends and then some had come to have a good time and even I wasn’t sure who brought the alcohol but I wasn’t complaining. I had just started to dance with Jean Parker the nicest girl in school when my mom came tumbling down the stairs. A loud crack along with half a dozen dulled thumps was heard before she came to a stop in a heap at the bottom of the staircase. The music beat loudly in the background as I made my way through the crowd. My eyes zeroed in on my mom and I saw dad reach her just as I knelt by her side. Her chest was still, her neck bent and her eyes glazed and my uncle was chocking out sobs, I knew she was gone. I turned away tears trying to escape my eyes. Nobody spoke but my eyes followed as someone brought out a phone, my ears felt like cotton had been stuffed in them and I was dimly aware that Jimmy McDonald had called 911. I sat there next to my mom’s body as the police came, the guest left and I just sat there. An hour had to have passed with just me and my uncle sitting there, the police trying to get us to move to come out of our shock. It was when the ambulance sirens came…then that I felt it. Ice cold and clammy a hand grabbed my forearm and a low keyed moan came from it.

            When I turned back around my mom was stumbling her way to her feet, her eyes still glazed and her neck still bent. My uncle was pale and had taken a step back, which seemed to catch her attention because she lunged at him, teeth and nails flying out. Limbs flew everywhere. All of us sat in morbid horror as my mom brutally attack my uncle… her brother. Blood stained the floor and a sick tearing sound echoed as clothes were ripped flesh along with blood went flying. Her mouth was on him biting, chewing, eating him as he screamed and kicked flailing his limbs.

            Soon he stopped moving, and mom looked up. Blood dripped from her face and bits of flesh and red ruby blood coated most of her hair. Her eyes were still glazed. The police shouted, and one grabbed me from behind, pulling me back as she lunged again. Shots rang out. I was mere feet away when the bullet entered my mom’s head and blew her brains to bits. She dropped like a puppet who had her strings cut.

            That’s how it began for me. My uncle turned an hour later killing and turning the good people from the ambulance before he disappeared into the woods around the highway to the hospital. Chaos was soon to follow.