#DON OLD
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#apartheid clyde#don old#tRUmp (the RU stands for RUssia)#deport elon musk#lock up tRUmp for life#the election was illegally BOUGHT
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i am uniquely positioned in the humor category of zillenials
#don old#fuck donald trump#trump#kamala 2024#kamala#lgbtq+#vote blue#vote democrat#zillenial#politics#us elections#election 2024#political satire#political comic#shitpost#trans rights#transgender#meme#political meme
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My friends say I can't sell this one because I used his face so I guess it's just a meme now
It's kind of a boomer meme tbh. Not sorry tho
#fuck trump#DON OLD#shady vance#lock him up#trump for prison#kamala harris#vote kamala#kamala 2024#lgbtq#trans rights#coconut pilled#america#election 2024#us elections
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Ugh. I'm still living life in a woozy trance, like it's all a bad dream and I can't wake up... 🫣😔
#marge simpson#astounded#election 2024#kamala harris#wtf#unbelievable#don old#tRUmp (the RU stands for RUssia)
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SAY IT TO MY FACE…
#say it to my face#iammszmax#mszmax#mszmaxbaby#ggriarivera#vp kamala harris#madam president#woman power#Don Old#Old Don
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What is going on ????the divorced is over?? are they on their way to collect oscar ??
#like what screm when i saw this photo#ypu adll don get who this to old decrepit men mean to meee#mark webber#fernando alonso#webbonso#formula 1#oscar piastri
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It's happening . . .
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"Pussy, you do of course realize that you have insulted me and my kind by calling that vile pile of orange excrement a CHICKEN! Apologize!"
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was thinking how maybe it’s a good thing Sigma didn’t wake up and spill the deets about Fyodor’s past bc I just know Chuuya’s grumpy tired ass would’ve had a field day. just like
Sigma: i believe Fyodor is at least a few centuries old— Chuuya: DAMN Sigma: Chuuya: sorry. continue
Dazai: he's older than i thought... Chuuya: prehistoric even. that old fucker Sigma: Chuuya: my bad. continue
Sigma: he was captured by Bram Chuuya: who's that Sigma: the vampire king Chuuya: don't vampires like blood? why'd they want that anemic jackass Sigma: Chuuya: sorry. just curious
Dazai, muttering to himself: immortality? what could Fyodor be... Chuuya: a fossil Chuuya: but now that we killed him. fossil fuel Dazai: can u give it a rest i'm trying to think
#enas.txt#bsd 113#bungou stray dogs#mouthy Chuuya my beloved#i just kept thinking about that interview with kevin hart and don cheadle#“im 56 years old” “DAMN”#cw: cursing
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Miles Edgeworth Investigations 3: The 7 Cases of Corruption (1992)
Over the 7 years Phoenix was disbarred, Edgeworth constantly asked him to fly over to Europe to “help with difficult cases” and “provide a different perspective.” In reality he was just helping Phoenix get out of the house we all been knew lol. Anyways weird girl assistant Phoenix time AGAIN.
#ace attorney#ace attorney investigations#miles edgeworth investigations#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#narumitsu#wrightworth#zootopia#retro aesthetic#old cartoons#disney#fake screencap#fake screenshot#don bluth#don bluth style
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#Trump Tax#ManChildTrump#Donald Trump#Trump#tax#taxes#MAGA#MAGA Morons#Crybaby Trump#Tiny Hands#Limp Dick#Spanky#Pee Brain#Cadet Bone Spurs#Five Deferment Don#The Orange Menace#The Manchurian Cantaloupe#Mango Mussolini#convicted#felon#78 year old criminal#economy#economics#tariffs#tariff
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Actually, this soup 👆 is easier to understand than DonOld's "statements."
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I love imagining your BENT turtles after finding out Donnie's ages.
On one hand, Leo would be whining to Donnie about Raph and Mikey being mean to him, since Donnie is technically the oldest.
On the other hand, Raph treats Donnie like the baby and like he's still tiny, because in his mind he is, and yells at anyone that so much as looks at him wrong.
And Mikey just watches it all in mild amusement.
Their dynamic is definitely a fun one! Totally agree that after talking about ages they would all change how they interact with each other a bit
Also the B.E.N.T turtles are not mine - they’re owned by @butterfilledpockets and I just doodle them because I love the AU ε-(´∀`; )
#Leo would jokingly use Donnie as a shield#(old disaster twin tendencies die hard)#and be a lil shit to Raph#Raph would be his grumpy self but leave Donnie out of it and try and keep Donnie out of Leo’s mess#ronin mikey watches from afar in confusion - slight amusement - and some annoyance#bad end ninja turtles#b.e.n.t#my art#rottmnt future leo#tmnt the last ronin#sainw raph#tmnt don bot#rottmnt#tmnt#tmnt sainw#tmnt 2012#tmnt 2003#ask box#ask answers
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this one goes out to all my Singin' in the Rain ot3 truthers—
Cosmo Brown had always known it would end like this.
Cosmo was a lot of things—in fact, you could argue he was too many—but he wasn’t dumb.
From the early years, when Cosmo and Don were just kids playing for pennies in pool halls, to their stint dodging rotten vegetables on Vaudeville stages across the very backwaters of America’s backwaters, to their first real breath of success in Hollywood (and then the second and the third and the fourth), Cosmo would catch a glimpse of his handsome, charismatic friend from the corner of his eye—a flash of dark hair, that perfect tooth powder ad smile—and know that for all Don’s protestations, someday the guy was gonna meet a wonderful girl and get married, settle down, and very gently slip off to the far edge of Cosmo’s life.
So yes, Cosmo had seen Kathy Selden coming. Not the details, not her sense of humor or her musical little laugh or the madcap way she really threw herself into dancing with them around Don’s place at 1:30 in the morning—and okay, certainly not the part at the beginning where she had jumped out of a cake at a party, but he thought a fella could be excused for not correctly divining that.
The general outline of the thing, though, how Don’s eyes followed her around a room...he had been preparing for Don to propose to Kathy ever since she’d tried to throw a pie at Don’s face. And when the happy day came, Cosmo had been ready with his best man suit, his best man speech, a slightly updated version of “Here Comes the Bride” that’d had Don and Kathy laughing all the way down the aisle.
Don and Kathy would buy a house together. They would have a swimming pool and a dog and then inevitably, a small parade of adorable little snot-nosed kids who would call him Uncle Cosmo, and they would spend less and less time with him, not on purpose but busy with the rest of their lives, and ultimately Cosmo would learn to make his peace with it because he’d have no other choice and he would have to try to move on and not live too much in his memories. He could picture it so clearly, he figured if the songwriting gig with Monumental didn’t pan out, he could always return to the backwater circuit with a new act: The Amazing Cosmo of the Cosmos—ladies and gentlemen, he sees the future, he reads the stars, he silently pines for his best married pal and all the while tap dancing!
Don and Kathy inviting him along on their honeymoon, though—that part was a surprise.
“What?” said Cosmo, hands frozen over the piano keys. He’d been busy with a brand-new assignment; on the heels of The Dancing Cavalier, offers were pouring in and he’d taken the first one scoring a movie that didn’t star anyone he was secretly in love with.
Don had looked a little wounded when Cosmo broke the news last week, but a guy had to start making his own way in the world. Besides, orchestrating layers of strings to swell as the camera zoomed in on Don and Kathy blissfully locking lips in radiant monochrome, oblivious to the rest of the world—well, Cosmo knew that dance, he had mastered the footwork, and he didn’t especially feel like a reprise.
It wasn’t lost on him that Kathy had dropped by his rehearsal space alone today. Of course, he had no idea what this meant—he didn’t think it was about the new job; Don didn’t tend to stay sore at him for that long—but Kathy was acting perfectly natural, and so probably the smart thing was to follow her lead.
“It’s a two-week transatlantic cruise,” she said now, gracefully dropping beside him on the piano bench. “We thought it would be nice to see Europe, take in the sights, get away from all the cameras.”
“Ah yes, such a wallflower, our dear Don,” said Cosmo solemnly. “Besieged on all sides by the love of his public, a tragedy of our times, up there with Lear! Hamlet! Caesar! The one with all the Greeks and the giant wooden horse, nay, nay, neigh.” He played a tragic little trill, for effect. Kathy huffed a laugh and smacked his arm.
“You know that’s not it,” she said. “Being watched all the time—we can’t always do what we want. It’s rotten.”
Tell me about it, thought Cosmo.
He was sort of seeing a fight choreographer named Archibald, who came from old money and was a “the third” or a “the fifth” but nice enough Cosmo might even forgive him for that. Archibald was trim and athletic, with dark brown hair that was just starting to go gray at the temples and enough discretion that Cosmo didn’t think they’d get caught. The only problem was that he didn’t laugh at Cosmo’s jokes, seemed to just tolerate them.
“What do you two even talk about, then?” Don had asked, when Cosmo had let this slip over drinks the same night he’d explained about the new movie project. (Cosmo had been trying to spend less time with Don and Kathy since the wedding but Don had said, “C’mon, pal, we miss you” and Kathy had laid one hand on his arm and peered up at him with her big green eyes and Cosmo was only one man.)
Cosmo had frowned, because Don hated Archibald, for reasons that were frankly mysterious. Then he’d looked up and grinned a grin he didn’t exactly feel and said,
“Tell you when you’re older,” and then Don had choked on his dry Martini even though Cosmo knew Don knew about Cosmo’s tendencies. It wasn’t something they discussed, and Cosmo had never properly gone with a guy before, but whenever a big-shot producer started complaining about all the degenerate queers in showbiz, Don always sharply steered the conversation someplace else. It was all very gallant and noble and knightly, and someday Don would play King Arthur and Kathy his lady Guinevere—
“Honestly, sometimes it feels as if we’re living in a fishbowl,” said Kathy now, in the present.
“And so your solution is to relocate,” said Cosmo, “to the biggest fishbowl on this here magnificent earth. The mighty ocean!” He struck up a sea shanty. “Oh blow the man down, blow the man down / way ay, blow the man down…”
Not everyone appreciated his musical flights of fancy, but when Cosmo turned, she was leaning with her elbow on the side arm of the piano, watching him with her chin on her hand and laughing.
“Just for two weeks,” she said. “So, are you coming?”
“With you two,” said Cosmo, just so there could be no misunderstandings. “On your one and only honeymoon.”
“Yes,” said Kathy.
“As what, your first mate?”
“Sure.” She grinned and threw him a quick salute. Cosmo was almost never attracted to women but in this case, he understood the appeal.
He swallowed. “You are aware of that ancient saying, ‘Two’s company and three’s a fast track to divorce court’?”
“You’re hardly a threat to our marriage, Cosmo,” she said, and he agreed, of course, in both directions, even, but it still stung to hear her say it out loud. For want of anything better to do, he gasped, clutched a hand to his chest and reeled backwards so hard, he threw himself off the piano bench, landing in a somersault on the floor.
Kathy spun around fluidly on the bench to face him, pleated skirt whirling a little, heels of her shoes clicking together.
“Oh, I said that badly,” she said. “I only mean that it’s more fun when you’re around. We have a better time, Don and me both. Remember the night we decided to make Dueling Cavalier a musical?”
“Do I remember the best night of my life?” Cosmo peered up at her from the hardwood. “Why yes, madam, now that you mention it, I believe it might ring a bell or two.”
“The best—” She frowned for a moment, and he remembered then that as a newly married woman, a newly married woman to Don Lockwood, no less, she’d no doubt experienced any number of evenings that blew that one out of the water.
Even besides that, it felt awfully revealing all of a sudden. Cosmo threw an arm over his eyes. He felt naked. He wished he was naked, because that might at least distract from whatever his face was doing.
“So it beats your time with Archibald, then?” said Kathy shrewdly.
Cosmo uncovered his eyes. He forgot, sometimes, that new as Kathy was to the moving pictures business, she was still a city girl, with a city girl’s worldliness. Also, Don had probably told her; that seemed like the kind of second-hand secrets married people shared with each other. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
“Hardly a topic for mixed company,” he said.
There was a pause.
“So yes,” she said and smiled with a smugness that would’ve been unbecoming were she not as cute as a button.
“What do you and Don have against the poor man anyway?” he groused. “He’s never done so much as sneezed in your direction, and if he did, I’m sure he’d use a handkerchief.”
“For one thing, we know you could do better,” said Kathy, folding her arms.
Cosmo elbowed his way back to sitting, brushing himself off with dignity. “Well, better’s not exactly knocking on my door right now.”
“This town doesn’t have an ounce of sense.” She reached down to offer him a hand up, pulling Cosmo to his feet; she was stronger than she looked. “Listen, two weeks away, it’ll be good for you.”
“What about you two?” Cosmo protested as he reclaimed his spot on the bench, Kathy sliding to make room.
“What about us?” said Kathy with wide eyes.
“Two newlyweds might want some alone time?” he offered weakly.
Kathy shrugged. “I told you, there won’t be reporters or cameras. It’ll be plenty private.”
“What about your matrimonial needs?”
“Which needs?”
His eyes narrowed; she was a terrific actress but suddenly he wasn’t sure he was buying it. Kathy wasn’t dumb either.
“You have to know what I mean. Don’t make me play Cole Porter at you,” said Cosmo. She hesitated, and Cosmo began to pluck out a melody: “Birds do it, bees do it / even educated fleas do it…” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Let’s do it,” sang Kathy, finishing the stanza in her lovely alto, “let’s fall in love.”
Cosmo stopped playing.
“I do know,” she said simply, “of course I do, and we’re not worried about it, alright? Listen, do you want to go?”
Cosmo, who had been carefully not asking himself that question, stared down at the piano keys. Did he want to go? He thought back to that night at Don’s, the three of them giddy with excitement and inspiration and sleep deprivation, running through the house, clowning around and dancing with no audience except each other—he hadn’t felt like a hanger-on then, like a third wheel or an extra limb or a chaperone. He’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, one note of a perfect chord.
Still.
“I can’t swim,” he said.
“They’ll have lifejackets,” said Kathy.
“I’ll have to work.”
“We’ll bring a piano.”
“All my houseplants will die,” said Cosmo.
“All your houseplants are fake,” she said. This was true, although he wasn’t sure how she knew since she’d never been to his house. She sighed. “Remember the night of that first screening, when you were about to expose Lina and instead of explaining what was happening, Don told me I had to sing, that I didn’t have a choice?”
He winced, thinking of Kathy’s heartbroken, tear-stained face before they’d pulled up the curtain and revealed who was really singing when Lina moved her lips.
“Yes, and I feel just awful about it.”
“Well, Don doesn’t,” said Kathy. “Because he knew it would take too long to convince me to do something that mean to her.”
“Mean?” Cosmo echoed. “She tried to trap you in a lifelong contract and steal your voice. A common sea witch wouldn’t stoop so low.”
“But there wasn’t time,” she pressed. “And anyway, he knew how it would end.”
“What’s your point?”
“We already bought your tickets,” said Kathy.
Cosmo gaped at her.
“We’ve cleared the trip with everyone at Monumental and anyway, like I said, we’ll have a piano on the boat.”
Distantly, he was aware his mouth was still hanging open. Kathy reached over with one light finger under his chin and gently closed it.
“That’s better,” she said, folding her hands daintily in her lap. It was around this time she seemed to realize it wasn’t some routine, that Cosmo really was well and truly stunned. “Of course, nobody is going to force you to go with us if you truly don’t want to,” she said into the silence.
“These tickets,” he said at last, “are they refundable?”
“Gosh,” said Kathy easily, “I can’t imagine they are, no.”
The thing was, none of them were hurting for money or work anymore, so the fact that Don and Kathy might be out even a few hundred dollars didn’t catch at him the way it might’ve some years earlier. No, the thought that really seized his imagination was the mental image of Don and Kathy planning this together, Don and Kathy discussing the matter with each other, maybe over breakfast—toast and coffee in their dressing gowns, so sure it was the right thing to do that they’d decided to just go ahead and make preparations: oh and a ticket for Cosmo, of course.
He could do it, he realized. He could go. He wanted to go. It was foolish, but Cosmo was an entertainer; he’d been doing foolish things in front of a roomful of witnesses since he was in shortpants.
“I’ll pack tonight,” he said.
“Perfect!” Kathy hopped off the bench and straightened out her dress. “And bring something nice to wear at dinner for a night or two; it doesn’t need to be black-tie formal, a good suit will do.”
He nodded. “I shall leave the top hat and monocle at home. Two weeks, you say?”
“Yes, and another half-day on either side flying to the harbor and back.” She reached into her coat pocket, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “The itinerary,” she said. “Don and I are so glad you’ll be coming.”
“Uh-huh,” said Cosmo. “Say, where is that fella, anyway? What’s the big idea, can’t even stick around to ask his best pal to his own honeymoon?”
“He’s planning the trip,” said Kathy brightly. “Last-minute details. Anyway, he thought you and I should have a chat, one on one. He thought it might help.”
He blinked. “Help what?”
“Help us,” she said.
It was all starting to feel like a farce, like one of those old Vaudeville acts with a lot of fast talking.
“Did it?” he asked.
“I think so,” said Kathy warmly. She turned and began to walk towards the door. “See you at the airport tomorrow. Six AM sharp.”
“Six AM,” he said, and then, foolishly, “You know, I can see why he likes you.”
Kathy dimpled. “Oh, likewise!” She tossed him another smile and then she was heading out of sight down the hallway, shoes clacking rhythmically on the tile.
“Well,” said Cosmo to no one. He felt pole-axed, he decided. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt pole-axed in his life before, but there was no other word for it.
He played a chord, then another chord, then a few more.
“Pole-axed,” he sang, “out of whack, when you are near there’s only one drawback: I can’t be clever, no I lack the knack, Darling, I’m pole-axed, out of whack around you!”
It wasn’t exactly Cole Porter, but he’d take it, he thought, reaching for his pen. There was still an hour or two left before he’d need to race traffic home and dig out his suitcase. Apparently, he had early morning plans.
(ETA: if you didn't see, there is now a second part here!)
(ETA THE SECOND: the whole finished thing is now here!
#singin in the rain ot3#i might write more idk but listen like you can probably imagine the rest of it#old-timey polyamorous shenanigans on a boat#pretty straightforward stuff#there's singing there's dancing and somehow don managed to 'accidentally' book cosmo in an adjoining bedroom etc etc
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Oh, nay, we beg to disagree, professor, sir.
Behold ~ legal documented proof of the DonOld's mental acuity:
"Person, woman, man, camera, TV !"
*mic drop*
#quote#william t. kelley#wharton university#election 2024#don old#tRUmp (the RU stands for RUssia)#mental acuity
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Vincent Price guest stars --
Get Smart; Was This Trip Necessary? (1969)
#vincent price#get smart#don adams#maxwell smart#jarvis pym#artificial sweeteners#funny#i love him#no one can deliver a line like Vinny#hes so sexy#his eyes ...#ahkwjakanalajska#bicon#classic tv#tv shows#horror#guest stars#old horror movies#vintage#movie#actor#handsome#gif#gifs made by me#gif set#bisexual
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