hey-scully-itsme

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But there was a period of friction, when “hello” was spreading beyond its summoning origins to become a general-purpose greeting, and not everyone was a fan. I was reminded of this when watching a scene in the BBC television series Call the Midwife, set in the late 1950s and early 1960s, where a younger midwife greets an older one with a cheerful “Hello!” “When I was in training,” sniffs the older character, “we were always taught to say ‘good morning,’ ‘good afternoon,’ or ‘good evening.’ ‘Hello’ would not have been permitted.” To the younger character, “hello” has firmly crossed the line into a phatic greeting. But to the older character, or perhaps more accurately to her instructors as a young nurse, “hello” still retains an impertinent whiff of summoning. Etiquette books as late as the 1940s were still advising against “hello,” but in the mouth of a character from the 1960s, being anti-hello is intended to make her look like a fussbudget, especially playing for an audience of the future who’s forgotten that anyone ever objected to “hello.”

Because Internet, Gretchen McCulloch

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im not fucking joking i just found a women want me fish fear me hat on the ground

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99% of repressors give up right before they successfully don't feel anything. Don't stop shoving it down. You can get through this unscathed

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has this been done yet

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he’s james stewart to you but to me he’s jimmy. i know him like that

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stamps with frescoes from moldavian monasteries. romania, 1969-70.

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Today round ass puppy revealed to me, exhausted, at the end of my rope, that her training wasn't working not because she didn't understand, she did, she did, but instead because treats, chicken, turkey and pork apparently weren't enough motivation. She began obeying every word with startling accuracy as soon as she was offered something else. Doing backflips and stunts with pyrotechnics as prompted for the promise of a pea. A pea. She's a dog. A pea. A pea. A pea. I have to carry peas around now. On my person. Personal peas. 🫛 peas

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Victoria Crowe (British, 1945), Lily Illuminated, c.2022. Oil on board, 101.5 x 81 cm.

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Watching two people I follow who I know are mutuals reblogging and vaguely posting opposing positions on the same argument that I am not interested in or care about is fascinating. Its like having a front row seat to a cold war of nothing

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my potion #MyPotion

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I don't post much personal stuff here, but I'm proud of the work I've done for howmanycigarettes, so I want to recommend that people check it out.

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She was a fine dashing woman, and without being either pretty or beautiful she gave the impression of being both, mostly from the splendid way she carried her head. She despised her scrub of a husband, who truckled to her; and she had taken to music as a relief from him. But it did not seem that music was enough, for now she poured out a bumper and drank it off with a very practised air.

--Master and Commander

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'La Corrida'. Bo Bartlett. 2023.

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The Indianapolis Star, Indiana, July 26, 1925