cotty

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California Dreamin’ by The Mamas & The Papas except it’s playing from a box radio while you sit on the porch of a Yosemite Ranger Station in the very early morning. It’s summer. It’s 1979. And you love your job.

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*schlorp* OHOHOHO *shklump* AHAHAHA

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things i say that confuse and worry my coworkers:

“happy birthday” every time i hand them something

“well, that’s not ideal” whenever something is going wrong

“we are in the timeline that god abandoned” whenever i’m mildly inconvenienced

“can’t you see that your fighting is tearing this family apart?” whenever two or more coworkers are arguing

referring to taking medication as “eating medicine”

“time to go back to prison!” when putting animals back in their cages

referring to inanimate objects as (s)he, particularly when i break something and say “oh no, he’s dead.” this concerns them especially when i follow it up with “that’s not ideal”

“what are they gonna do, fire me?”

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pics that make you go harrumph

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Jeff Goldblum

By Randall Slavin for The Gentleman’s Journal via @televison 

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THE LAST DAY GUYS

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i think my age group is just going to have to live with the fact that half of us are always going to be burdened by the glee covers. we’re never going to be able to listen to a bunch of songs without thinking of the glee version. i envy those who don’t have this curse. those who don’t hear rachel berry and finn hudson singing together in the background of so many songs, while mercedes hits a high note and kurt or puck sings a verse with one of the unholy trinity. those who can hear jump without thinking of the mattress commercial. those who can listen to a song as iconic as bohemian rhapsody and don’t have flashbacks to vocal adrenaline performing it at regionals intercut with shots of quinn fabray in labour. who don’t close their eyes at night and hear “this one’s for you artie!” vogue by madonna is forever tainted by “will schuester, i hate you.” i’m never going to willingly listen to run joey run but if i ever heard it in public i know that the only thing i’d be able to thing about is rachel’s terrible music video. there are people out there who are able to listen to rumour has it without hearing naya rivera as santana lopez cut in with lines from someone like you and you know she keeps glancing at brittany s pierce played by heather morris as her life falls apart. walking on sunshine played on the radio the other day and i was surprised when i didn’t hear halo mashed up with it and ALSO ANGELS. don’t even get me started on faithfully, any way you want it/lovin’ touchin’ squeezin’, let alone don’t stop believing. this show and all it’s covers are burned into my mind and i envy those who don’t face my struggle.

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I Wanna Get Better / Bleachers And I miss the days of a life still permanent Mourn the years before I got carried away So now I’m staring at the interstate screaming at myself, “Hey, I wanna get better!”

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my American gf: pound me me: what’s that in metric

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me: hey how long is this thing going to last

someone: haha you just want to know when you’re off the hook

me: hah

me: (actually i just need to allocate the right expectations and backlog of energy and make sure the rest of my day falls in good accordance with it so that i don’t feel time-crunched and propel myself into a hysteria because if i don’t know how long this thing lasts or when it ends i can’t possibly know when literally anything else starts and my entire life becomes an unraveled realm of anarchy with no rhyme or reason and how is that not terrifying to you)

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hey hal i once had a friend who was kin with mimes. and that's like fine i'm not judging or anything i got some atypical kins myself. but they were like. sad that they weren't a mime. i don't think they realized they could. actually go out and be a mime in the real world if they wanted to. facepaint striped shirts and pantomime classes exist. i don't know what made them think they couldn't just be a mime

this is the funniest fucking thing ive ever read in my entire life

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my friend lars who hates and bites me

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Man human imprinting is crazy. My friend’s roomba zoomed by me and I got this intense urge to reach down and pat it. Like it’s just a machine? But it’s a good boy? It spends all day cleaning and sleeping and exploring the house and never complains and it’s just so good little robot? Pet robot?? Pet the robot????? Why am I like this???

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Researchers at the University of Otago in New Zealand published a study in 2016 that showed that young people who took part in some kind of everyday creative activity - whether that was crochet or cooking new recipes - fell into an ‘upward spiral’, with their well-being, creativity and enthusiasm higher than those who hadn’t done these kinds of activities. Anecdotally, that resonates: for me, just taking half an hour out the day to be in the kitchen cooking, experimenting, tasting and feeling can be enough to drag me out of the slump of my depression. The difficult part is mustering the enthusiasm to drag myself into the kitchen in the first place.

Ruby Tandoh’s Eat Up!  (via armoldhammer)

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for the love of fucking god let me reblog ads tumblr