
izzy's playlists!
hello vonnie
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todays bird

Product Placement
ojovivo

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if i look back, i am lost
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
The Stonewall Inn
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Mike Driver

titsay
cherry valley forever
Noah Kahan
The Bowery Presents

Love Begins
Claire Keane
RMH
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seen from Ukraine

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seen from Canada
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seen from Malaysia
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@ramoththegolden
How the heck does this gifset not have a hundred thousand reblogs? It’s amazing!
Medusa fragment ring. 14KY. By Sofia Ajram (source)
It was announced that Netflix is gonna do a live action version of Avatar the Last Airbrnder so I’d like to voice just one simple casting request.
The Boulder!
Played by The Rock!
Yes please
Fact #1: laser sights don’t help your aim; they’re highly inaccurate at any range longer than a couple dozen yards and only good for rapid target acquisition
Fact #2: absolutely every precision shooter knows this
Fact #3: almost nobody else knows this because movies have erroneously taught people that snipers paint a red dot on the target’s chest before they shoot them
Fact #4: any nazi who notices a red dot on their chest while giving a speech is going to immediately stop talking and get off the stage, probably while shitting themself
Fact #5: laser pointers are cheap, legal, and easy to conceal, and unless there’s smoke or dust or something in the air, theres no way to know where it’s coming from
The most dangerous phrase in the language is, “we’ve always done it this way.”
“Come on, let’s mix it up!” The heart surgeon says.
“B-but we’ve always done it this way!” The other replies, “this is how you replace a heart valve.”
“That’s the most dangerous phrase in the human language!” The first surgeon replies haughtily as he inputs a fruit loop into the patient’s heart. “This will be his valve. He will be a fruit loop in a world of Cheerios.”
(taken from this post on the experiments of Harry Harlow)
This is serious business, because this is a large part of how sexism, racism, homophobia, rape culture, ethnocentrism, etc. continue to happen.
The reason we do heart surgeries the way we do is not “because that’s what we’ve always done.” It’s because that’s how year of scientific research says will give the best results. One of the best uses of the scientific method is to test common practice, and either eliminate it or give it legitimacy. Don’t do things because “that’s what we’ve always done,” do them because that is what evidence and research say we should do.
Saying “we’ve always done it this way” justifying maintaining a harmful societal norm is dangerous. We can do better.
adulthood really does hit you like a fucking truck when you spent all of your teenage years thinking you were gonna kill yourself eventually,
i through i was the only one
Beetlejuice (1988)
Source: [x]
Click HERE for more facts
so you know the rule in fairylands where you cant eat or drink anything or you’ll have to stay there forever? does like.. .eating out/sucking dick count
holy f uck jane
its a serious question
well like, the whole thing is that you cannot have consumed anything belonging to the fey realm. so, yes, probably, you would be stuck there. the same would apply if you just straight up ate a fairy.
new question: would deepthroating count in this case even w/o swallowing
no. temporary doesn’t count, otherwise fairies would all be running about sticking their hands in your mouth to get human servants.
you gotta digest it.
so like??? if you puke afterwards?? maybe it doesn’t count?
huh! i wonder how long is enough time for it to be legit. like whatever goes through your stomach immediately condemns you no matter if you throw it up later?
Well Persephone only ate 6 seeds so she only stayed 6 months, so maybe if you spat out most of it you’d just be condemned to the occasional day “BRB got go pay the two day toll for fellating a fairy.”
“you wanna come over for the weekend?”
“oh man im so sorry i sucked some fairy dick once and now i have to keep coming back to do it again– its a long story”
“you what now”
i can hardly believe this isn’t already the plot of an Oglaf comic
now that u said it im really surprised as well
what the fuck did i just read
Why ISN’T this an Oglaf comic yet?
I’m so happy that i’m not the only person who thinks of questions like these. I love you all so much.
I’m not convinced by this, actually!
Like, this analysis treats it as a substance problem, i.e. “edible matter from fairyland has properties that, if ingested, physically prevent you from being able to return to the real world.”
But OTOH, a recurring theme throughout fairy stories is that they’re all about…rules and exchanges and agreements with really steep interest rates:
“I’ll do you this favor, but if you don’t guess my name you’ll have to give me your first-born child.”
“You’re gonna be real good at everything but when you’re 16 you’re gonna prick your finger and die.”
“You loaned me $2 for the bus when I looked like a beggar, so now here’s a literal pile of gold and shit.”
Not to mention that in Childe Rowland, one of the central “if you eat food from fairyland you’re stuck there” stories, Rowland manages to retrieve his siblings despite them all presumably having chowed down on fairy food – all it took was beating the Fairy King in a swordfight and threatening to chop his head off.
The takeaway, I think, is that the food thing a matter of implicit exchange: if you get your grub on in fairyland, you’re accepting their hospitality and eating food that they own. This means you owe them, which the fairies can magically leverage to prevent you from leaving.
(You can probably get around this by explicitly agreeing to pay for your meal before you sit down to eat. From what I remember, fairies don’t seem capable of pulling a “Haha, we had an agreement but you’re fucked anyways!” maneuver, so if they agree to let you leave they might even be forced to help you leave.)
Which brings us to the matter at hand: if you blow a fairy you’re doing them a favor! They owe you.
And…they’re a fairy, so if you didn’t agree to terms beforehand they might not repay you in a way that’s ultimately helpful or safe, but it certainly doesn’t seem like they’d be able to, like, pat you on the head and be like “Thanks, you’re really good at this buuuuuuut also you’re stuck here forever now.”
Instead, what seems more likely is…I dunno, showing up to your wedding years later and giving you a beautiful white horse that always comes when called, while loudly praising you as truly deserving it for giving them them simply the best oral they’ve had in years.
Or they feel obligated to show up at your house a couple days a year. So, like
“you wanna come over for the weekend?”
“oh man I’m so sorry i sucked some fairy dick once and now he always comes by over memorial day weekend and helps me out with minor home repairs.”
“you what now”
This is my favorite act of intellectual bugfuckery on this entire website, when I die I want someone to print this out and place it in my grave with me so I can cherish it forever.
after dying god informs you that hell is a myth, and “everyone sins, its ok”. instead the dead are sorted into six “houses of heaven” based on the sins they chose.
We arrived first at the House of Lust. “House” is a misleading term. It was more of a camp, spread over acres and acres of lush forest. There was a white sandy beach (nude, of course) full of copulating couples. There were little cabins sprinkled all along the path, from which orgasmic moans regularly came belting out. Men with six pack abs and women with perky breasts strolled by without even noticing me and God. They only had eyes for each other, tickling and pinching each other with flirtatious giggles.
“What do you think?” God asked as we passed a nineteen-way taking place in a pool of champagne. Little cherubs flitted overhead armed with mops and cleaning supplies, thankfully. “Lust is our most popular sin.” I eyed the supermodel-like figures of a couple passing nearby, and could easily see why. “You can look however you want. Hell, you can be whatever gender you want. No fetish is too taboo, and no desire can be denied here.”
It was quite tempting, but I wasn’t ready to make a permanent decision here. “Let’s see the others,” I told God.
We carried on to Greed. We passed rows and rows of mansions, each more opulent than the next. Some of them were so large that they would have had enough bed rooms to fit my entire hometown. And so many different styles: one second, we were in a beautiful French vineyard in front of a gorgeous chateau with the Alps in the background. The next second, a warm tropical beach with a modern mansion atop breathtaking cliffs. After that, a ski chalet in Colorado with a roaring fire in a hearth large enough to fit an ox. Each one had various Italian sports cars and Rolls Royces parked in front, with the occasional smattering of boats, helicopters, etc.
“Any material desire you ever wanted,” God explained. “Your own world, where you can have everything. You want the Hope Diamond? You can fly to Washington DC in your own solid gold helicopter and buy it from the Smithsonian. Hell, you can just buy the Smithsonian.”
Also tempting, but I decided to keep looking.
Gluttony was next up. Tables and tables of the very finest foods: beautiful steaks cooked medium rare; butter-poached lobster tail; fresh oysters on a half shell; exotic wines in dusty bottles that had been hiding in the cellars of the world’s finest restaurants. Everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and simply lounged on couches and chairs near the tables, eating endlessly. As soon as the inhabitants took a bite, the food just instantly came back. My mouth watered even watching them.
“In every other House, the food is practically sawdust compared to Gluttony,” God explained. “You haven’t truly experienced heaven until you’ve been to Gluttony.”
I shook my head, and we kept moving.
Sloth was as you’d expect. An endless sea of the softest mattresses, stacked with cushions and pillows that made the story of the princess and the pea seem minimalist. Little angels visited each resident, giving them massages that made them all melt into their blankets.
Wrath was… well, a lot like what I’d expect Hell to be like. Fire, brimstone, whips, torture.. you know, the works. Except here, you weren’t the one being tortured. Every enemy you’d ever made in your real life was now under your thumb. “Lots of people choose their fathers,” God explained. “Lots of grudges against parents in general, you know. But you’re not limited to that. Someone beat you out for a big promotion back on Earth? Take your pound of flesh here.”
Then we arrived at Envy. It looked… well, a lot like home.
“Go on in,” God said, gesturing toward the door. I turned the knob and walked in… and found Emily waiting inside. She ran forward, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss right on my lips. “Welcome home, honey.”
I looked back toward God. “Oh, don’t be coy,” he said. “You have no secrets from me. We all know that you were in love with your best friend’s wife.” She didn’t seem to hear him at all; she went back into the hall. “We all know that you just settled for your own wife while secretly pining after her. Well, this is your chance to live happily ever after.”
I peered into the kitchen. Emily was baking something, wearing nothing but an apron. Her curly black hair fell softly over her shoulder as she whisked ingredients. She turned back, noticed I was observing her, and an enthusiastic smile spread across her face.
“It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” God whispered in my ear.
I wanted to take it. God damn did I want to take it. But I shook my head.
God seemed puzzled. “You need to make a decision,” he told me.
“I haven’t seen Pride yet.”
He scoffed. “No one ever wants Pride, trust me.”
“Well, I want to see it.”
_________________________
Pride was boring. Just a row of workbenches in a bare white room.
“I don’t get it,” I told God.
“Yeah, no one does,” he answered. “That’s why no one ever chooses it. Doesn’t cavorting in Lust sound better than sitting here building little trinkets for the rest of eternity? Wouldn’t you rather gorge yourself in Gluttony? Or spend time with Emily in Envy?”
I considered the options again. “I pick Pride,” I finally told him.
He narrowed his eyes. “What? Look at it!” He gestured around the room again. There wasn’t much to look at. “Why would you choose this for the rest of time?”
“Because you don’t want me to pick it,” I told him. If he was really God, he’d know what a contrarian I can be. And I knew he was hiding something, trying to pretend like Pride didn’t exist. There was something special about it.
God scowled back. “Fine.” He led me over to one of the workbenches. In the center, there was a black space. A blank, empty void that went on forever. “Here’s your universe,” he said. “You’ve got seven days to get started.” He took his seat at the bench next to me and went back to tinkering in his own world. After a long pause, he finally spoke again: “You know, it might be nice for me to actually have some company for once.”
FUCKING I MEAN.
IT’S LIKE 7AM AND I LOVE GONNA REBLOG SO I CAN READ THIS SHIT AGAIN
opposite of depression nap. depression awakeness. refreshing the same three websites over and over. there’s nothing new on any of them. eight seconds have passed and it feels like a century
name a scam bigger than women’s jeans
ok fair… name a scam bigger than women’s clothing in general
you win i resign
Laziness: I’d rather sit here than pick up those clothes
Executive Dysfunction: I need to pick up those clothes I need to pick up those clothes why am I still watching this thing on Netflix while sitting down c’mon stand up I need to pick up those clothes I need to pick up those clothes I need to-
growing up sucks because you realize $1000 isn’t a lot of money
Growing up sucks because you realize $1000 is a fortune.
Growing up sucks because you realize both of these are true at the same time.
When someone says these days sexism and misogyny don’t exist anymore show them this.