Flying Dog

Dogs are love, dogs are life Specifically golden retrievers Woof

[newhampshiregothic]

New Hampshire Gothic #7

It’s winter. The temperature has dipped into the single digits. You order an iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts; 2 cream, 2 sugar. You don’t know why you order your coffee iced on a day like today- you just do. The woman at the cash register stares at you blankly. You repeat your order, thinking maybe she didn’t hear you. The unsettling stare remains glued to her pale face “Regular”, a voice whispers from behind you. “You want an iced coffee, regular”. Eager to get your coffee and leave, you again repeat your order, this time asking for “iced coffee, regular”. As soon as the words leave your lips the woman at the register smiles, beaming, and immediately rings you up. “Have a nice day”, her coworker says cheerily as he hands you the drink. You nod in return and pull your scarf up over your face as you brace yourself for the biting chill of the December morning. As you walk down the street to your car, you notice that everyone you pass is also holding an iced coffee. You take a sip of your own; it slides smoothly down the back of your throat. You drink as you drive, the chatter of “Car Talk” the only noise besides the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers swatting at lazy snowflakes. As you exit your car and approach the office, you glance at your coffee. It is still as full as it was when you left Dunkin Donuts. How strange. You move to switch the cup to your opposite hand in order to better examine the contents, but cannot seem to pry it from the cold fingers of your right hand. Your heart pounds, warm blood rushing to your face as snowflakes melt in your hair. It’s stuck. A man approaches from down the block. In your distress you turn to him. “Hey man, I need hel-”. The words lodge in your throat, frozen. From beneath his Celtics flatbrim the man stares unnervingly at you; just like the woman behind the register in Dunkin Donuts. In his right hand he too clutches an iced coffee; regular, you guess. He grins ear to ear. “Have a nice day”, he says. The snow falls faster.

[thagsimmons]

New England Gothic

You walk into Ocean State Job Lot. I don’t need to say anything further. The name alone has already given you a certain amount of unease.

[triflesandparsnips]

Northern New Hampshire gothic (take two!):

You turn on the radio. There are only three stations that come in clearly. One of them is religious, one of them is French, and one of them is American easy listening. The American one’s call sign is WHOM. Everything else is static and stations that never quite come in.

You hate Maine. Everyone hates Maine. You were born hating Maine, and you don’t know why.

Cell phones don’t work. Satellite dishes are pinned to every house. Dial-up internet still exists. Flatlanders come from down below the mountains with their clean coats and tiny boots and wonder why their cars stop working.

Every year some of the young men go away on trucks to cut the Christmas trees for the year. You don’t see them leave. They don’t have any trees when they come back. No one talks about what happened. The chainsaws are covered in something dark and oily.

It is snowing. What month is it? It doesn’t matter. You go outside and the only way to distinguish the snow from the black flies is the color.

You are surrounded by mountains. A mountain is behind you right now. It’s Mount Washington, and you feel it watching you.

You know all the police, the EMTs, the firemen. You know everyone. Everyone knows each other. One day Fish and Game wardens begin to appear just beyond the treeline. You can’t quite see their faces. They begin to call softly to you, asking you to leave the road and come into the woods.

You own a plastic jug of maple syrup. You own a novelty bottle of maple syrup. You know at least six ways to eat maple syrup. You have maple trees that you tap to make your own syrup. You speak seriously on the topic of A-grade versus B-grade amber. Do you even like maple syrup? Who’s telling you to do all this? It doesn’t matter. There’s an ice storm coming, and you fear for the trees.

It’s still snowing. You thought maybe it had stopped a few bullet points ago. No. It’s only gotten deeper. And the wind has begun to blow.

Everyone has a moose story. You have a moose story. No one has died from a moose, but we’re not sure whether that’s because of accident or design. The moose have a habit of wandering into our yards, watching our houses with dark and shuttered eyes. The children start going missing.

[m4ge-deactivated20210331]

New Hampshire Gothic

A tourist from Massachusettssees Adam Sandler and excitedly asks for his autograph. In an instant, AdamSandler’s massive, merciless maw envelops the excited fan. You do not look. You keep your head bent down. Everyone else keeps their heads bent downwards. You are not supposed to look directly at Adam Sandler. No one is.

 Funspot is the only place you can go to experience fun. You are unable to experience fun in any other location in the state.

 There is no correct way to pronounce “Kancamagus Highway”. There never has been. There never will be.  

You’re driving on I-93 when it begins raining various types of guns. You pull over at a rest stop, which has a massive warehouse-sized liquor store. A few other people have also stopped at the rest stop. Everyone exits their vehicles, but no one speaks to each other. No one even makes eye contact. A few set off a small collection of fireworks. “Live free or die”, you all begin to chant in unison. Live free or die. Live free or die. The shower of guns destroyed the roof of the liquor store. Liquor is gushing out at an alarming rate, soaking your pant legs to the knees. Live free or die.

The Old Man on the Mountain fell over 10 years ago, but locals still visit its site to present sacrifices to it. The sight of the broken cliff causes everyone to cry tears made of pure maple syrup.

In the middle of the woods, you find a small town with a population of about 10 residents. They have 2 Dunkin Donuts in their town.  Both of the Dunkin Donuts are completely filled with the residents. There are at least 20 exact copies of each resident and they are all packed within the two Dunkin Donuts. There is a new Dunkin Donuts coming soon.

You get in a canoe and paddle your way to a brand new computer store that has just opened. “We have all of the latest tech here,” a middle aged white woman woman in a pair of light-wash bootcut jeans, bean boots, aeropostale hoodie, and fluorescent orange hunting vest says to you. She ushers you over to a computer. It is running on Windows 95. Maple syrup is oozing from the screen. The screen only shows a single word document with the words “WE INVENTED THE SUNSET” sprawled across in 72pt papyrus font. You cannot access anything else on the computer.  

It has snowed for 27 days straight. You cannot exit your home. Your children still must go to school. You need to leave. If you don’t purchase a box of Munchkins from Dunkin Donuts soon, your family will surely die. The snow has covered your house. There is no heat in the house but you do not care. You only care about the Munchkins. 

[bemusedlybespectacled]

New Hampshire gothic

They have returned for the leaves again. The leaves fascinate them. The leaves compel them. They will return when next the leaves turn red.

Somewhere, someone is quoting Robert Frost.

There is no spring. There was never spring. There has only ever been the blackflies.

What are your neighbor’s names? You can’t seem to recall. Do you have neighbors? There are only trees.

The deer are everywhere. The deer hate you.

The roads are haunted by the ghosts of all the motorcyclists who didn’t wear a helmet. Sometimes you see lights in the road and wonder.

Somewhere, someone is quoting Our Town.

The sign warns you to beware of frost heaves. You don’t know what frost heaves are, but you are very afraid.

You thought your secret was hidden, buried until it was nothing but a memory. You fool, forgetting that nothing in a small town can ever be forgotten.

The woods are encased in ice, shimmering as if made of spun glass. Snow drifts rise higher and higher. It is deadly silent but for the crack of falling branches. Resolutely, a teenage boy in shorts and a heavy sweatshirt trudges on. “It’s not that cold,” he says.

The stones whisper to you. “Franklin Pierce,” they say. “Adam Sandler. Dan Brown.” You shiver.

“Live Free or Die,” says the politician. Everyone nods. They will never die.

[keartzen]

NEW HAMPSHIRE GOTHIC

You go to the Pheasant Lane Mall. Everyone is from Massachusetts. You question where you are. They are here to shop without having to pay taxes. You have never heard of taxes. There is no government.

You hear sounds coming from your trash can outside. You check to see what it is. Nothing is there. Nothing is ever there. You see footprints that lead to the trash can, but none that are leaving it.

The trees are tall. You look up at the sky. There is not sky, only trees. You have never seen the sky.

During autumn you see tourists. As more tourists show up you notice that the Fall leaves start to disappear. The leaves are gone when the tourists leave.

Everyone says that Concord is the capitol. You follow your GPS to get to Concord. When your GPS says you have arrived there is nobody there. You look around and see only trees. When you return home your friends ask how your day went. You tell them that you went to Concord. Concord is the capitol.

You hear the autumn tourists talk about bowling. You are confused. What they are describing does not exist. There is only candlepin bowling. There has never been anything else.

You hear people talk about visiting friends in Vermont. They have never met someone in Vermont, and neither have you. Vermont does not exist. There is only New Hampshire.

You go to Mine Falls Park. You see horse tracks. You have never seen horses.

You are driving down one of the backroads. There is only one lane. The road is made of dirt, and the trees all look the same. In the distance you see headlights coming towards you.

Every sign has the same profile of the man in the mountain. He is gone. You ask about him and are met with silence. We mourn the man in the mountain.

Everyone you know is from southern New Hampshire. There is nobody in the north. Nobody has been there.

You enter Dunkin’ Donuts. When you decide to leave the exit takes you to another Dunkin’ Donuts. You look out the window and see the orange and pink walls of another Dunkin’ Donuts. The employee says it is only a reflection. You try to leave. There is no escape. America Runs on Dunkin’.

In the winter the snowplows run all night. It has only snowed an inch. School is cancelled the next day and the day after that. The next week it snows 18 inches. There is no delay in the public school system. The plows are gone. There is always snow, your teachers say. It is never enough to cancel school.

[forensicfreak55]

New England Gothic

There are leaves covering the ground in reds and oranges and yellows and browns, but there are still leaves on the trees. In fact, all the trees are still completely full of green leaves.

The sky is always incredibly clear. There are never any clouds even when it’s raining or snowing.

A man comes into your 24 hour Dunkin Donuts exactly 5 times during every shift and orders a small hot black coffee, even at night. He’s always wearing jeans, a tshirt, and sunglasses, even when it’s -12*. You’ve never seen his car park, he just seems to appear in front of the doors.

You can tell the time by when you hear the T go by, but when you look, there’s never any train.

You were told to never go into the graveyards at night. Not because it’s illegal to go in when the gates are closed, but because of what those gates are keeping in.

Every October, the leaf peepers come. It’s always the same people in the same cars. You don’t know any of their names even though they’re temporary residents of your town for one week every year. And then they’re gone.

You get up for school and hear that it’s a snow day. Immediately, you get bundled up and run outside to play in the snow. You slowly begin to notice that there’s something wrong with the snow. It’s not snow at all. It’s ash.

You woke up one day and the trees were covered in crows. You don’t know where they came from, but just when you were starting to get used to their eyes watching you everywhere you went, they disappeared.

There are woods behind your house. They’re not very deep or dense and you can perfectly see your backdoor neighbor’s house from yours. But sometimes people go walking in those woods and never come out.

Your neighbor’s tomatoes keep growing after the plants died in the first frost. You see him out there in the middle of the winter harvesting his bright red tomatoes from the dead plants. He comes over one day with a basket full of tomatoes. They’re bright red and beautiful, but they smell like rot. You accept the gift, but don’t dare to eat them. You’re not sure what they are, but they’re certainly not tomatoes.

It’s snowing, but it’s 80* and it’s July. “We live in New England. Wait a few minutes and the weather will change,” they say. A few minutes later the snow is gone and it’s sunny again.

People keep talking about the moose hanging around town, but no one you know has ever seen one.

Your family has lived in the same house since the house was built in 1702. Your family has died in the same house since the house was built in 1702. You’ve met all of your ancestors.

You can’t leave New England. It’s not that you don’t want to or haven’t tried, it’s just that every time you try to cross state lines out of New England, you always end up back at your house with no recollection of returning there.

[meiamandrew]

The new republican healthcare bill

[despazito]

everyone has that one person on facebook who got pregnant, had a kid and now believe they have wisdom beyond their years and does vegan yoga

[despazito]

the person in question i know named their child novali galileo starshine and apparently has a business of making jewelry out of resin cast breastmilk..

[pyronoid-d-deactivated20181217]

I’m confident everyone can relate to the original post but I don’t think anybody could have expected that twist

[greatestbastard]

[holdthepossum]

[discovered]

[immediately mocked by scientists]

[frostyknickers]

me as a discovery

[slavetomyheadcanon]

How can you not include the video?

@lordcephalopod

[spam-bot]

THEY’RE ROASTING HIM

[cervidaeze-archive-deactivated2]

when i realized this was an actual ad and not some top tier shitpost i almost had a fucking stroke

[black-to-the-bones-deactivated2]

I’m the birb that gets embarrassed by her man

[woofknight]

@lanadelhaayy

[meiamandrew]

The new republican healthcare bill

[parakavka]

[fjolltroll-deactivated20130616]

[animenigga-deactivated20131029]

CHILDHOOD BACK

AND CALVIN IS WITH THE GIRL THAT HATED HIM ASFHAGS

[raconteuze]

im crying a lil bit

[pokemoncards]

I need this in my tumblr forever.

[girlfriender]

is anyone gonna talk about how his kids name is bacon???

[helllosweetie-deactivated201511]

HE’S WITH SUZIE THAT WAS MY CHILDHOOD OTP

[pei-zhu1210-deactivated20170524]

who names their kid bacon

[ameliacgormley]

Calvin and Hobbes were Reformation-era philosophers, as was Frances Bacon. I’m better his daughter’s name is actually Frances, but he calls her by the appropriate last name of the philosopher, just as Calvin and Hobbes are last names.

[thahalfrican]

[irlbastard-remade-deactivated20]

is no one gonna talk about how the girls afraid of Donald Trump in her closet

[new-age-conservative-deactivate]

I think Trump being the boogeyman makes perfect sense…

[chocolatedeathwarrior-deactivat]

There is literally nothing about this post that I don’t love.

[enzocomics]

new comic: trust http://cuek.co/578

[woofknight]

@lanadelhaayy

[just-shower-thoughts]

Once self driving cars are common, get ready for that really creepy first news story about a guy who died in the car, and it just kept driving him across the country.