ms word ms excel and ms powerpoint are all snooty disagreeable ladies who wont speak to me due to my meager dowry but then i meet their beautiful sister ms paint whos clumsy but charming and we fall in beautiful love. and i become mr paint
Men are literally never normal about liking you. It's always ominous
I could get over anything as long as I have something new to be obsessed with
girls when they don’t have a new obsession that helps them dissociate from their problems and they’re actually forced to face their thoughts
ALTRoland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse: Fragments (trans. Richard Howard) [transcript in ALT]
What's that poem about the cockroach and the moth where the cockroach is like "I wish I've ever wanted anything the way that moth wanted to burn itself up in that lantern" because we had to read that in high school and it still fucks me up to this day
Ok I found it it's called "the lesson of the moth by archy" and it's by Don Marquis
An old favorite. (And the incident with the moth in The Door into Fire is a nod toward this, though not an obvious one.)
I love finding out new things about Saint Robin Williams
BEING A GOOD ALLY SOMETIMES MEANS GUARDING THE CLOSET DOOR
Every single story I've heard of Robin Williams is of what a great guy he was, and that's refreshing at a time when so many celebrities turn out to be monsters in private.
Danny DeVito is the same way, very invested in human rights causes, and once ducked out of a press tour to attend a lecture by an activist he liked, where he too a ton of notes and apparently asked a lot of well-informed questions (according to the activist).
<3 Genuinely wholesome human beings <3
ppl are so annoying “you can’t paint ur bedroom pink you’re an adult” i did not spend my entire life waiting to grow up and control my life to paint my bedroom beige
I had a sales woman in furniture store try and tell me not to buy a hot bubblegum pink loveseat because she wanted me to “think about the future”
Bitch, I am thinking about the future. I already got a hot bubblegum pink couch at home and now I need a loveseat to go with it.
when I first bought my house, I announced my decision to paint my bedroom purple. I had wanted a purple bedroom for thirty damn years, you fucking bet I was gonna have one now. My friends decided, for some reason, that I meant what one of them referred to as “14 year old girl purple” (through what’s wrong with the colors a 14 year old girl chooses, I don’t know, even if they’re not what I want as an adult). They didn’t believe me until they saw the color on the actual wall, even thought they helped me pick out paints. My mother, meanwhile, decided to get worried that if I painted my bedroom a “dark purple”, it would be “depressing”. As if, with an entire house to live in, I would spend all my time in the bedroom, which I wanted to be dark because I would be sleeping in there. In the damn dark.
I had like one, maybe two friends who were all like FUCK YEAH YOU PAINT IT WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT, PURPLE BEDROOMS ARE AWESOME.
But when they actualy saw the finished bedroom, every single one of them was like, “Oh yeah, that’s really pretty.” (Well, the ones who supported me from the beginning were more like WOOHOO.)
And the moral of the story is: Fuck ‘em, please yourself. Either they’ll come around, or you can safely ignore every question of taste they opine about for the rest of time.
This applies to other adulting activities, too. When I was a kid, I decided that I wanted to have a wedding cake made of doughnuts. When I got older, I figured that I would be “mature” about it and get a traditional cake, which the older adults approved of. Now that I’m 25 and facing the possibility of actual marriage in the near future, I’m just like “marriage is a social construct but it comes with tax & insurance benefits, so just give me that goddamn doughnut cake.” If they don’t like it then they don’t have to come to my wedding.
I would like you all to view my office. I’m thirty and my rainbow room is awesome, people can fight me
I’m thirty and my first big furniture purchase was a custom coffin shaped coffee table that opens up and is lined with purple crushed velvet. I would have loved it at 13 and I love it now. Growing up doesn’t mean you have to abandon what makes you happy.
GROWING UP DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO ABANDON WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.
the infantilization of color and decoration in the home is so bizarre to me- and such a new phenomenon
the world over, our ancestors painted their homes bright or deep or rich colors for centuries. they brought beautiful textiles into their living spaces, and made their utilitarian objects ornamented, or colorful, or shaped like whimsical things. in all cultures, at all class levels and ages, to the best of their ability. and we’re just supposed to throw away centuries of the basic human desire for beauty and visual interest because some asshole decided like 40 years ago that anything beyond a Pop of Color and an IKEA fake plant was “childish?”
fuck that
I will never stop reblogging this one. I refuse to ever lose my teenage girl energy. I may somehow be more tired, but I will never stop squealing at small animals, and making things outrageous colors
There’s this new Leanna Firestone song called Foreverever and it gives me these vibes.
I love the term “loanwords” because it implies that you intend to give them back.
*dumps a box full of words on French’s front porch* You never came back for your shit.
Loanwords, loaned to the British Museum so
Would everyone like to know the best thing??? There are two types of borrowed word - loan words and calques. Loan words are words taken directly from the language i.e. tattoo, sushi, guillotine. Calques are words literally translated from the language before being borrowed i.e. beer garden, scapegoat, killer whale (incorrectly calqued, the original actually means whale killer which is a whole other post).
Did anyone notice the fun thing?
Loan word is a calque (German lehnwort lit. Loan+word) and calque is a loan word (French calque - tracing or imitation). Have a good day!
You meet god and she's mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she's made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it's far less than you'd think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn't know what you mean by 'anything', but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it's enough. She says there's no base requirement for deserving to exist. She's smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there's any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it's not a secret if she tells, plus it's fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don't ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they're in on some joke and you're sure if you try hard enough you'll remember what it is.
the 9th doctor is so real actually because he got one (1) good leather jacket and never took it off ever.
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