#BUT AGAIN COULD BE

[markwateneymemorialcrater]

Please note. The orange one is not included because A. He isn’t a billionaire. And B. Calling him obnoxious is too kind for him.

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.

[roppiepop]

Typical role dustribution

[stemmmm]

more people gotta try this shit where bill has not improved and will not change but he's just chilling so its fine probably. its great

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[dorothywonderland]

Is it considered plagiarism if you're copying your own comic?

╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

[sashayed]

i've been making a lot of bad art lately which is one of the world's most healing activities but if you have perfectionist tendencies you really have to commit to volume (if you make ONE bad painting it's just a bad painting whereas if you make 20 it's a meditative practice!). unfortunately we live in a one bedroom apartment and now we have to commit a significant portion of our storage to bad paintings. i would recycle them but unfortunately i need spare bad paintings to weave together into bad papercraft!!

anyway so i decided to move my bad artmaking into a new, smaller sphere and make bad linocuts. and let me tell you. if you are trying to get past thinking "my art should be good," linocut is a wonderful teacher. everything can be going great and then you exert slightly too much palm pressure and WHOOPS! sliced the face off. luckily the craft is so niche that negative self-talk can't really stick to it. i'll think something like "everybody else's linocuts are perfect. nobody else fucked up their linocut of a hot lady sphinx." and this is such a patently bananas sentence that i can simply laugh fondly at it and continue hacking away at my little rubber square. recommend

[loveletterworm]

What fahrenheit haters (fahrenhaters) will never understand is that the celsius system simply does not allow one the outlet of incredulously going "ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN DEGREES!??!?!??!??" when it is 107 degrees outside. "Forty one degrees" is far too mild a number when grappling with the fact that it is 107 fucking degrees outside

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF Vanessas meet their younger selves..

[saints-who-never-existed]

“In the war film, a soldier can hold his buddy—as long as his buddy is dying on the battlefield. In the western, Butch Cassidy can wash the Sundance Kid’s naked flesh—as long as it is wounded. In the boxing film, a trainer can rub the well-developed torso and sinewy back of his protege—as long as it is bruised. In the crime film, a mob lieutenant can embrace his boss like a lover—as long as he is riddled with bullets. 

Violence makes the homo-eroticism of many “male” genres invisible; it is a structural mechanism of plausible deniability.”

–Tarantino’s Incarnational Theology: Reservoir Dogs, Crucifixions, and Spectacular Violence. Kent L. Brintnall.

[aluminumneedles]

I'm knitting in the corner at a party

and guys my age stop by to tell me I remind them of their aunt, of their grandmother. This is a compliment and I take it as such. They confess to having tried crochet once, and I smile. They get back in line for the bathroom.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and a queer woman sits on the floor next to me, arranges her skirt, and smiles up at me. (I try not to blush.) She asks me all the questions on her mind about my craft and I answer them, hands still moving. We swap yarn sources. She doesn't stay, but she knows where to find me.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and everyone knows where to find me when they need a minute, when socializing is too much and the music is too loud and they need to catch their breath. They pretend to be checking in on me, which is sweet, but I can see the relief in their eyes the moment they stop performing for a house full of people. They sit down and tell me things and all the while they never take their eyes off my hands.

The party has wound down and I'm still knitting and the hosts, two guys in their twenties, thank me for "helping to curate the vibe." I had no idea that's what I was doing. I leave the party having forgotten to drink anything and without that woman's number but with many rows added to my top-down raglan sweater. I call it a night, and a good one.

[allthatdivides2]

my dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😛 this strain is called “public transit” 😳💊 you’ll be going wherever you want for an affordable price 💯👨‍💻

me: yeah whatever i dont feel shit

5 min later: dude i swear the bus should have been here by now

random guy at the bus stop with me: the transit app is lying to us

[lady-raziel]

right wing trolls acting up on tumblr always fascinate me like what are you doing making a fuss about pronouns on the pronouns in bio website you’re in enemy territory like are you lost or something

[mimefish]

nevermind everyone winner's symbolism cancelled. we cannot have another scar earth/mercury/comet situation again. I vote we all lay down our weapons and join hands in peace and accept that the one true symbol for Joel is the Car. wherever he goes whatever flavour of symbols you particularly enjoy. Car. Just Car. Because it would be really funny