#bob irl

[poledancingsquid]

How’s introducing your housemate to ofmd going Bob? Well me and my housemate are now planning to go from Liverpool to Hamburg so they can get an Izzy Hands tattoo so the answer to the question is FANTASTIC

[artviabob]

I had a pretty bad breakdown last night, which as it does lead to a lot of horrible introspection and several smaller mental shutdowns throughout work today.

I want to tell you guys about a pretty shitty thing that happened to me when I was in the 8th grade that had an awful affect on the person I am today.

I was never really big on school, and my grades showed it. My test scores were high and my in-class assignments were always fine but I never did homework. Ever. Because of that alone my grades plummeted down to Fs, pretty much exclusively because I didnt do homework. This angered my dad, my teachers, some of my other family members.

I was never really big on school. Nothing they had to say really interested me, so I drew. I drew a lot. Doodles that made me happy, doodles that I showed my friends at the time. These doodles were the one thing I was really passionate about, the characters I drew and all that good shit. Eventually, people started telling me to stop drawing. Focus on my school work. I didn’t, fuck them.

When I was in 8th grade one of my older brother’s friends lived with us. I don’t remember his name, just that he was a fat shit and a shitty person. His take on how to deal with this situation of mine was a lot more hands on.

I got my report card and went home one day and he demanded to see it. I told him no. He took it from my backpack anyway, and proceeded to read it off. Then he took one of my notebooks of doodles I had laying around and starting ripping out pages. One by one. Into a garbage can. Commenting on them occasionally as I watched and demanded that he stopped.

He commanded me to go get a trashbag and put all my notebooks into it. I’m a scrawny little 8th grader and this guys junior year highschool fat fuck twice my size. So I go to the kitchen, under the sink to grab a trashbag, barely fighting off tears. Then my dad comes home from work entering back door in the kitchen and sees me. He demands to know whats wrong. I’m already fucking stressed to my limit so I just start crying. My dad, bless him, gets angry at me, and demands louder this time. I do the only sensible thing to me at that time and storm out of the house.

My dad chases me, walking at a stern pace as I make my way down a bike path to a three way intersection (four way if you count the bike path leading down to it) until I finally stop. Still crying.

My dad catches up and tells me that if I ever walk out on him again like that I can kiss my home goodbye. And me, standing there next to the road, tears still falling down my face. He tells me that if I dont get back home before he does hes going to lock the door and not let me back in for the rest of the night. He tells me that a homeless person is going to fucking rape me.

I dont think I ever got to tell him why I was upset in the first place. I was in the 8th grade.

[red-hot-moon]

Guess who (almost) recreated this iconic moment in history today~!

I did a little Market Garden-themed bicycle tour in the east of the country today, between Arnhem and Nijmegen. I didn’t have time for the area around Eindhoven, where Easy Company landed, but I did visit the Island, the area between the two rivers where the Band of Brothers episode Crossroads takes place, and so I also swung by Schoonderlogt, the former headquarters of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment. Pretty exciting to stand where the real Dick Winters once stood. The pilgrimage continues! I’ll post some more pics from my trip soon.

[blog-of-boobs]

gay rights

[blog-of-boobs]

an update to the saga

[blog-of-boobs]

big news for c2

[blog-of-boobs]

TIL that the song Skybound is actually the song Breakfast After a Night of Drinking, which Emily published under the name Sierra Needle in her album Rhythm & Breakfast

[artviabob]

Hope you like pipchers