#bet your life 1948

[vintagedreamsofsennett]

loving scenes

Man-I-Cured / Wife Tames Wolf / Twin Husbands / Hired Husband / Bet Your Life

Leon kissing Dorothy

High and Dizzy / Texas Tough Guy / Lord Epping Returns / One Wild Night + Twin Husbands

Dorothy regretting her marriage

Beware of Redheads / Wife Tames Wolf / Dad Always Pays / High and Dizzy

Dorothy's unlucky maidenhood

The Dancing Millionaire

golf club scenes

He Forgot to Remember / Twin Husbands

vase scenes

He Forgot to Remember / Oh, Professor Behave / Twin Husbands / Borrowed Blonde / Beware of Redheads / Texas Tough Guy / Punchy Pancho / One Wild Night

other violent moments #1

Maid Trouble

other violent moments #2

Borrowed Blonde

other Leon x Dorothy moments #1

Triple Trouble / Don't Fool Your Wife

other Leon x Dorothy moments #2

Lord Epping Returns

other Leon x Dorothy moments #3

High and Dizzy

other Leon x Dorothy moments #4

Borrowed Blonde

[from1837to1945]

The opening

Lord Epping Returns (1951)

Loving scenes

Man-I-Cured (1941) / Wife Tames Wolf (1947) / Twin Husbands (1946) / Hired Husband (1947) / Bet Your Life (1948)

The episode Dorothy became a maid

Maid Trouble (1946)

The episode Leon became a butler

Hired Husband (1947)

Dorothy attacking the man

Borrowed Blonde (1947) / Beware of Redheads (1945)

Talking about "Reno"

Beware of Redheads (1945) / Wife Tames Wolf (1947)

Golf club scenes

He Forgot to Remember (1944) / Twin Husbands (1946)

Dorothy's parasuicide

He Forgot to Remember (1944)

Leon's parasuicide

Wife Tames Wolf (1947)

Dorothy attacking the woman

Maid Trouble (1946) / Twin Husbands (1946)

Vase scenes

He Forgot to Remember (1944) / Oh, Professor Behave! (1946) / Twin Husbands (1946) / Borrowed Blonde (1947) / Beware of Redheads (1945)

The ending

Borrowed Blonde (1947)

[northwest-by-a-train]

Mutual 1: I wish someone could kill me so I could be reincarnated as a saxophone solo in Al Stewart's 1991 song Year of the cat

Mutual 2: Horror keeps piling upon horror and we will live old and wrinkled in this time of horrors. The only cure is to post black and white pictures of men who have problems

Mutual 3: killing baby Caesar does lengthen the lifespan of the roman empire by ~350 years, as it dissolves into some sort of federalist-feudalist structure not unlike the Holy Roman Empire. The main difference is that a sort of loose syncretic pan-imperial polytheism is the dominant religion, leading to Icelandic temples of Isis and Ethiopian temples of Epona. As such, this timeline was spared the drawbacks of a centralized state-enforced organized religion. The main drawback is that being a furry is considered blasphemy by the vast majority of humanity.

Mutual 4: if Pendleton Ward does not make Mr Cupcake a Trotskyist I will set the cartoon network offices on fire

Mutual 5: if Serial Experiments Lain was made today they would make her cis. Well. Not on my watch

Mutual 6: Can we take a minute here and normalize arms trading? Marginalized communities need those 3D-printed untraceable ghost guns with Family Guy muzzles, I need to make a living since I was thrown out of the commune by Hannah-Arendts-Strap (message me for details), Seth MacFarlane needs people to watch season 27. But Academia will talk about Kant's white-ass categorical imperative to argue no one should sell guns. Typical.

Mutual 7: I am in your walls. Why is there lead paint on your radium plumbing my dude. You know that's not aryuvedic.

Mutual 8: I'm sorry but Robespierre was a scapegoat of most of the French revolution's atrocities, and bourgeois reactionary elements have tried to turn him into a proto-totalitarian crazed madman, but the historical record paints a much more complex picture. Which is why I don't believe he would ever whip Danton's ass like you just wrote. He would be the one wearing the ball gag. How can I make you see the truth my brother ?

Mutual 9: Arabic and Eastern European poetry have been superior throughout the late 20th/early 21st century. We also have the best cigarettes. If we keep going we can surround Constantinople in the next decade, and restore the Palaiologos to their rightful place.

Mutual 10: The callout posts are true. Reflecting on it, it was obvious that our attempt to create a secret #LiberateBelize discord channel without British people was chavphobic. We are listening and learning.

Mutual 11: Pinkie Pie could negotiate the Oslo Accords, but Bill Clinton could never bag pony Weird Al

Mutual 12: If I think about Betty Groff for more than two seconds I'll divorce my husband. I got the papers and everything. But I won't. I'm brave like that. #ChristianLove

Mutual 13:

Mutual 14: I was visited by the virgin Mary last night. Again. She told me I can't make my girlfriend pregnant like that. Again. But I know Ron L. Hubbard is with me, and it's all that matters.

Mutual 15: Mustard gas doesn't even taste like mustard. You guys lied to me. My Mac & Cheese is ruined.

Mutual 16: Stop saying my think tank advocates killing orphans. We're pro-harvesting organs in youth correctional facilities for reduced sentences !!! But again we see the pro-carceral bias inherent to Lutherans. Have you guys even read Angela Davis ?

Mutual 17: Here's my solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict: spend a hundred billion dollars for multiversal research, reach the mirror universe. Israelis get the biblical kingdom of Israel borders on this earth, Palestinians get the 1948 borders in the mirror universe. I think this is the fairest deal America can offer at this time.

Mutual 18: I tried to live the life of a restless European adventurer in Macau playing roulette and serving as a mercenary to various conglomerates. Turns out they also charge rent there. And income is taxable too. And I bet everything on Red. And I don't speak Mandarin, Cantonese or Portuguese. Help me pay for my flight home! 6¢/50 000$ collected!

Mutual 19: Yeah the canonization of Bolaño as the latest LatAm literary genius speaks to a sort of general malaise in post-colonial literature due to the collapse of magical realism as a viable tradition for meaningful political messaging. So the literature of unease and obsession and maladjustment itself is canonized, like an oyster canonizing the grain of sand that's tearing it apart. The fact that no other major voice has really appeared on the continent within the past 20 years should tell us this isn't working. Which is why the Brazilian JoJo fandom has a unique opportunity to meaningfully impact the course of world literature. #Multipolarity

Mutual 20: wow guys someone left a tray of perfectly good Mac & Cheese on a windowsill! Yummy!

Mutual 21: Did medieval surgeons pulling teeth get erections? I wouldn't normally ask this of my followers but I'm arguing about Sex Work with the ghost of Andrea Dworkin and I need hard evidence (no pun intended lol)

Mutual 22: Electro-Swing is a Belgian psy-op. I can't prove it, but I know it

Mutual 23: I'm the first neutered catgirl to be tried in a military court. But I know I'm not the last.

Mutual 24: Did you guys know you could eat olives? The thing they make oil from? I ordered three kilos of motors, so I can eat it with my roommate's Mac & Cheese

Mutual 25: Anglicans, amirite ? [Sounds of raucous applause]

[crazy56u]

Okay, I got two episodes to burn through (pun intended), and apparently we won’t find out until May if the show is getting renewed, so I’m a little peeved, but, here we go.

Last time on Quantum Leap: A whole bunch of Hannah.

Also, fucking Gideon indirectly forced Magic to throw himself under the bus.

Meanwhile in 2026/2024, Jen (in my head) spent a whole real time week trying to talk Magic out of this.

“I can’t imagine this place without you.” Well, if NBC decides to play fucking ball, maybe we won’t have to.

“Stay for one last leap?” “Not this time.” Show, I already said NBC was on thin ice with the on the nose shit.

And Ben leaps into that one level of Balan Wonderworld, so you know he’s in Hell.

“I’m a firefighter. Cool.” Ben, you are in the middle of a fire.

Oh goody, the TV committed suicide.

“We were testing my new circuit board-“ Either this kid is Hannah’s son, or he’s Kid Gideon. The literal only two options.

“Your dad is gonna be okay.” “That’s not my dad, he’s my neighbor.” Oh, so he can die then, cool.

“My dad died a couple years back. We all thought a heart attack would get him, but then he ran a red light.”

New Jersey fucking claims another victim…

“…mom, why are you looking like you know the firefighter? Does this have to do with that Cairo thing dad mentioned a couple years ago?”

And Ben is about to give Ziggy a stroke by exploring the stock market, and luckily Hannah is smarter than that.

Plot twist: Ben somehow caused that car accident.

“Hey, Ben, I know you’re in the middle of Hannah shit, but I gotta tell you about the Gideon plot now, sorry.”

Okay, so Ben’s guy is about to retire, shot in the dark, the leap has to do with him dying on the job.

Okay, I am now confident in my guess that this leap or the next will retcon Gideon from the plot if you’re doubling down on Magic “leaving”, I am confident.

“Whelp, I shoved a plant into a box, time to go.”

“You should have let them fire me.” Ian, no offense, but I am willing to bet Gideon is gonna demand all of you quit.

“Look, Jenn, I know you kept wanting me to not do this, so as a prize, you’re New Magic.”

So yeah, Magic is totally gone from the show for real, definitely gone- so anyway, back to Hannah.

“It’s been three leaps. I had some fun in the 80s.”

“Do I look old?” Hannah, you haven’t aged a day since 1948.

Ben, once again, unless you caused that car crash, stop blaming yourself.

Hannah is the key to Quantum Leap.

“This is the last episode I’m in, Ben. To celebrate, explosion.”

So, the plot has been hijacked by the Transformers, got it.

Okay, so now we’re doing The Towering Inferno.

CALLED IT

“Lady, stop acting like I’m talking to ghosts, I’m a firefighter, and you ain’t.”

“20 years of experience” is basically the Get Out of Jail Free card for this leap.

This is turning into the plot of a Webster episode…

How many fires has Hannah seen in her life, goddamn…

Ben, Hannah has seen Nazis and the ending of Red Dead Redemption, a fire ain’t nothing by comparison.

“The chagrined look on your face tells me Addison says I’m right, so I win.”

“HEY, WHEN SOMEONE KNOCKS ON THE DOOR, YOU ANSWER IT!” Fucking mic drop.

Great, now the fire is chasing you.

“We gotta go through the fire.” “Fuck that shit, even if this is our fault!”

And Gideon has been ripping out the wires… Or it’s because Ian had shit timing, either or.

And Hannah has decided this burning building needs a love triangle.

“The one thing I did that actually worked”, my ass. Ben, you kicked cancer’s ass last week.

“Look at this from a cosmic perspective.” Hannah, the last time someone said that in this show, they were looking to be stuck in the Imaging Chamber for 1600 years.

And now the Fire Sheilds are armed.

Hacking into the power grid to defend the rock, roll goddamn tide.

I love how this looks like a music video.

The fire is angry!

There, they escaped the music video.

…is Hannah gonna die this leap?

I actually admire the fact Jeffery didn’t sneak back inside to get Josh’s stuff. [And three… two… one…]

“I know I just inhaled a bunch of smoke, but I just solved the plot-” “Ben, the building exploded again, that means Jeffery snuck back inside.”

Ian is having his Khan moment, everyone is doing great mentally.

“Math’s just not mathin’.”

So, the DARPA code should be in a museum, got it.

Jenn, stop acting like Magic ain’t immediately coming back.

Hannah, it’s bad enough Ben keeps blaming himself for shit…

And now the fire is retaliating.

God is fucking pissed at you all this week.

“Look, I know I’m pinned, but Jeffery’s more important.”

If Hannah does this episode, then this is a shitty way to go, dear god…

And Hannah decides now is the time to solve the plot.

Jeffery, it’s your own fault this is happening, stop being bitchy.

Jeffery, if you don’t want to see a grown man cry, leave now.

ANNNNNNND THEY FORGOT TO GRAB THE DARPA FILE.

“Time isn’t a river. It’s an ocean. Hopefully you trapped that file from my apartment.”

And Hannah dies…

“Let me use my dying breath to fix your relationship problems.”

Crawling on the ledge of a burning building. If I had to do that, I would instantly die.

Yeah, Ian, just type shit!

…is that constant idea gonna be the thing to undo the time skip?

The only way is down. I would 100% die on the spot.

How is Ben not shitting himself in fear as he does this?

“I know you’re scared! I’m scared too!” NO SHIT

“Choose courage! Jump from the exploding building!”

“Let’s go save your mom!” Ummmmmm…

And back into the music video we go.

Oh, cool, Hannah still has life in her…

NBC, seriously, you need to renew this show.

And Ben gets bailed out by a mention of retirement.

“Tell her thanks. She knows.” Fuck yeah she does, she was the only one to solve the plot.

And Hannah’s code turns out to be Stop ‘n’ Swop.

And in comes the armed gunmen.

“I wanted Ian fired. Magic didn’t do that, so, fuck it.”

Hannah got a sneak preview to this movie, Ben, she doesn’t need to see it.

And Jeffery is about to learn about Ben.

I love how Hannah is getting the kind of goodbye montage a show does when a character dies… despite not being dead.

“I wrote DARPA code to get you home, Ben. I even had a file in my apartment containing the data, you grabbed it, right?”

“…lady, why was I hugging you?”

And Gideon decides to be an even bigger asshole than he was prior, so Addison decides to steal a gun.

Addison, don’t play chicken with the universe here…

…so, they have the spare keys to Beth’s house, I take it?

One down one to go. Gideon is 100% gonna get retconned.

[nickyhemmick]

A Very Stressed American Jew here again,

Hi! Thank you for taking the time to respond to my ask and yes, I’m someone who loves hearing as many perspectives as possible so I’d love some sources from you. I also very much appreciate the fact you are being very careful to only reblog posts that are anti Israel, not antisemetic (which is frankly a breath of fresh air, the internet has been a bit exhaustingly full of both antisemitic & Islamaphobic content these past feel days as I bet you’ve seen)

I’ve also been to Israel on a Birthright trip. We met people who ( both Palestinian and Israeli) on various sides of the conflict and learned a ton about it, from both perspectives which I was lucky to have the opportunity to do. We even went a little into the Gaza Strip to talk to these people running a pro Palestine peace movement and it was so important to me hearing those stories.

I never said they were on equal footing militarily, they definitely are not, Israel definitely has that advantage. But you are incorrect about Israel always being the aggressor since 1948,they’ve defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Isreal is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack.

I 100% agree that there are too many people who are compliant with the mistreatment of many Palestinians! I’m not anti #freepalestine at all! I get why that is a thing. But I also stand with Israel( but that does not mean I condone every action they take. ) Overall I think the situation is extremely complicated and some sort of compromise should be reached.

It’s just been very frustrating to see so many people reblog things on a situation just bashing Israel because so many others are doing it. Especially when then don’t know what they are talking about or using big buzz words that they don’t know what they mean, or spreading misinformation. It’s been on both sides and has been very very draining. I just want peace and some sort of solution. It makes me extremely happy you know what you are talking about and can debate politely yet happily about it. The internet has been so ‘ either agree with me 100% or you a bad person’ about this so it’s refreshing to see you are not like that.

I’ve done a lot of research into it from as many perspectives as I can get my hands on.

Some extremest Israelis are hurting Palestinians

Some extremest Palestinians are hurting Israelis

Both sides are throwing rockets at each other and it’s terrifying.

Both sides claim the other side is brainwashed

There is so much biased propaganda out there on both ends it’s hard to know what is truly happening.

I know people living in Israel who have sent me videos they’ve taken of rockets flying over there heads and I’m so scared for them. I’m so scared for all the innocent people caught in the crossfire on both sides.

Thank you for a more nuanced response and I’d love some of your sources,

A Very Stressed American Jew

Hi anon, 

I wasn’t going to respond to this until after my math final tomorrow but I’ve spent the past two days thinking of your ask and the things I wish to articulate in my answer. 

I am going to start here: how can you say you support Israel but say you are also pro-free Palestine (as in, you said you are not anti free Palestine). In my opinion, these two ideas cannot coexist. Simply because, the entire establishment of Israel has been on violent, racist, colonial grounds. 

(Super long post under here guys)

You said you don’t support all Israel’s actions, and definitely, just because you support something doesn’t mean you can’t criticize it. However, in my opinion, if you do not support Israel’s actions against Palestinians there’s not much left to support? I admit this is a very biased view as I am Palestinian, but many things that people support about Israel have existed before its creation: as in, these are things and qualities that have existed in Judaism and are not due to “Israeli culture.” There is no Israeli culture. There’s Jewish culture--100%. But there is no Israeli culture, because Israel does not only steal Palestinian land, but Palestinian culture, too. Such as claiming Levant food is Israeli; hummus, ful, falafel, shawarma. I mentioned food from this article I know is culturally and traditionally of the Levant, and has been for centuries, it is not something that has come to culinary creation in the past 73 years. 

I do not think this is a complicated issue. I said that in the previous ask and I’ll say that again. Saying it is a complicated issue is trivializing the deaths of innocent Palestinians, the violent dispossession our ancestors endured, and the apartheid they live under. I hope if anything comes from this discussion it is you removing the “it’s a complicated issue” phrase from your vernacular. 

This is not complicated. A journalist reporting the death of martyrs only to discover that of them include two of his brothers is not complicated. The asymmetry of Israel vs Palestinian armed forces is not complicated, nor is the asymmetry in Israeli vs Palestinian suffering (which I will get to later). It is not complicated.  Destroying the graves of martyred Palestinians (or just in general, the graves of the dead) is not complicated. Little children being pulled from the rubble, children being forced to comfort one another as they are covered in the ashes of their decimated homes, attacking unarmed citizens in peaceful demonstrations (you can find videos before this attack where they were playing with kites and balloons), destroying an international media office and refusing to allow journalists to retrieve the work they are spending every waking hour documenting but claiming it was because it was a hide out for a “Hamas base,” fathers who are trying to cheer their frightened children up only to end up dead the next day, while many Israeli have the privilege and the option to go to hotel-like bomb shelters is not complicated. 

This brings me to my next point: the suffering of Palestinians cannot be compared to the inconvenience of Israeli’s. On one side, you have children who are happy to have saved their fish in the face of their homes and lives being decimated behind them to Israeli’s in Tel Aviv having to cut their beach day short to get to bomb shelters. You have mothers and fathers ready to set their lives down for their children to save them from bombs to Israeli’s enjoying their brunch only after making sure there are bomb shelters there. You have Palestinian children being murdered to blocking out the sound of sirens in the safety of your bomb shelters. (The first picture of the Palestinian child is not from footage of the recent problems). You have the baby lone survivor of a whole family recovered from rubble. His whole family, gone, before he ever had the chance to realize that he even exists, while Israeli’s decide to flee out of the country,(Translate the caption from Twitter, it checks out), or have to leave the shower due to sirens. Who is really suffering? 

I won’t sit here and pretend like the thought of rockets flying over my head, no matter which side I am on, is not terrifying. It is. It’s scary to just think about. But Israeli’s have protection beyond Palestinian’s, they have sirens to warn them (Israel does not always warn Palestinian building members that it is about to be bombed), they have the Iron Dome, they have simply the threat of nuclear power (which I am not saying Israel would use, but the simple fact they have it would make me feel a lot better if I were an Israeli citizen) and they have bomb shelters. What do Palestinians have? Hamas? That smuggles its weapons through the ocean? That only ever reacts to the action Israel instigates? And yet Gazans are branded terrorists and that it is their fault that they “elected” a terrorist organization that only was ever created due to no protection from any armed country? (There are so many links I want to add in this paragraph but it is simply impossible for me to add everything I want, a lot of what I’m referring to can either be found through a Google search, or you can stalk my Twitter account, all that I am posting now is about Palestine, and will include sources of things I cannot add in just this one post.) 

Look, I see myself in the genocide happening in Palestine right now. I see myself in this ten year-old girl. In this three year old girl. I see me and my family in videos of cars being attacked in Ramallah and Sheikh Jarrah (I cannot find the Ramallah video, should be somewhere on my Twitter), I see my father in the countless videos of fathers crying out for their children, of kissing the corpse of their loved ones (again, translate the Tweet, the man holding the body is saying “just one kiss”). I see my grandfather in videos like this (old footage). I see my younger brother, I see my grandmother, my mother, my aunts and uncles and cousins. I see myself and my life and my family were my father not lucky enough to get a scholarship to the UK and out of Palestine, were my maternal grandfather not been lucky enough to make it to a refugee camp and build a life in Jordan. I have an unbelievable amount of privilege to be born into the life I was born in to, in terms of I do not have the threat of bombs and violent dispossession around me, and I do not even live in the US. I have privilege and sheer luck that my parents were able to go to the US so that me and my brothers can be born, because now I have both the protection of the most powerful country in the world while at the same time being part of a people to have suffered so generously the past seventy-three years. 

On the other hand, you saying that Israel has “defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Israel is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack,” I offer you this question: why are they using military grade guns and stun grenades in mosques to “defend” themselves from rocks? And before you mention that Hamas hit Tel Aviv, I remind you that Hamas did that due to the violence in the Al-Aqsa mosque square and the attempted ethnic cleansing in Sheikh Jarrah. The violence didn’t begin with us; the violence was brought out of Palestinians in resistance to the generations of oppression we have endured and the attack on Palestinian Muslims during the holiest night of Ramadan. Hamas has since asked for a ceasefire multiple times and Israel is refusing. New reports say there is a possibility of a ceasefire in the coming days, but Israel could have decided this a long time ago and spared many lives. (Remember, no matter what resistance we make, Israel is the one in power).

Israel has been the aggressor since 1948. Just read up about the Nakba! 700k Palestinian families were dispossessed violently. The only reason Israel was established at all was because it simply declared it was now a country and the US and many other countries recognized it as such. (Of course, there are many other historical details here, like the British Mandate of Palestine, the Balfour Declaration, the Oslo Accords and many others. I am aware of them but these are for a different post all together). My paternal grandfather was a little younger than me when Israel as a state was created. The hostility that followed was due to this independent declaration being listened to over Palestinian voices. 

Here is a very, very simplified analogy, one that can also answer some people’s questions as to why Palestinians (not Arabs, we are Palestinian before we are Arab) did not like what happened in 1948 and why they refused a two-state solution (that Israel was never going to go through with anyway). (I am also aware other Arab nations got involved, and that is perhaps what you mean when you said they had to defend themselves, but my response to that would still be we didn't start it, that we only responded to it).

Let’s say you are a farmer. You have many fields of trees, ones you have taken shelter under from the sun since you were a child, or hid behind when you wanted to avoid your parents when you misbehaved. You have seen your trees grow from a seed, to a sprout, to a flower, to a large, beautiful tree with fruits the size of a fist. You pluck the fruits from one tree, and make a jam from it. I don’t know how to make jam but I know it takes a lot of energy. So, you make this jam and from it, produce a lovely, mouth-watering pie. Once it has cooled from the oven, you take it with you outside your balcony just so that you can admire the years, months, weeks and hours this one pie has taken to be created. Suddenly, a stranger walks past and yells to you, “That pie looks delicious, I want it!” And you, shocked at their boldness but ready to share, say, “I will give you a bite.” But the stranger says, “No! I do not want a bite or a slice or whatever you want to offer me, I want the pie!” And they grab it from you. You and the stranger start screaming at one another about who the pie is for, who is allowed to decide what happens to it, and who you can share it with. Then, another stranger comes by and says, “Why all the problems? Let’s cut the pie in half and the both of you can share it!” But why should you, who has spent years cultivating the fruit and grain inside this pie, share it? Why should you give up half of the 100% that you already owned? Of what you already had? So you disagree, and now a crowd has formed around you. “What’s the problem?” someone in the crowd calls. “They don’t want to share their pie!” another voice says. Then you become branded a selfish, mean bastard. Again, this is a super simplified analogy, so don’t take it too seriously, but I am trying to show you why Israel is the aggressor.

In addition, I do not know too much about the Birthright program, just that American Jewish people are sent to Israel, all expenses paid. I tried my best to find the Twitter thread but I read it so long ago, about an American Jewish person who went on their trip and they talked about the propaganda that they were exposed to on that trip. I can’t say for sure that it is true, because I haven’t been on it and never will, but that is the first thing I thought of when you mentioned your Birthright trip. Either way, I think it is still great you went and saw the country. However, I must ask you this: are the people you met ones you, yourself, sought out, or ones you were organized to meet?

Now, I haven’t been to Gaza, so I don’t know what you really saw or didn’t, but did you speak to Palestinians who lost their homes to airstrikes? Did you speak to siblings, parents or children of loved ones who had been lost beneath the rubble of buildings and towers? Outside of Gaza, did you speak to Palestinians that live in poor quarters? Ones who have been victims of an IDF soldier shooting them, or who have family members who have died from such attacks? Did they take you guys to Ramallah, to Nablus, to Beit-Imreen, to Jenin, to small villages in the West Bank, far away from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv? Did you speak to people there? Ask them their stories? Because if you did I have a very hard time believing you still think Israel is “defending” itself.

I’ve been to Jerusalem, many times, even Tel Aviv and Jaffa and Haifa. All the times I visited Dome of the Rock there were IDF soldiers with huge guns strapped to their person, standing menacingly outside the courtyard. For what? Genuinely, genuinely for what? It is nothing but an intimidation tactic. The same way we are not allowed in through the airport. If you could see the struggle some Palestinians actually go through just to get into Palestine, through the land border, you would be disgusted. I love Palestine, it is my ancestry land, it is my culture and tradition. But I always hated going to visit because I knew the way to getting there would be hell.

My father worked in Tel Aviv through the first Intifada. My maternal grandfather was forced out of his home in the Nakba and was forced to leave behind his belongings and the orange trees that have been in his family for generations. Hell, the town they lived in was destroyed! It doesn’t exist anymore except in the memories of my aunts and uncles, who never even saw it, but just heard of it from their father!

I’m not saying there aren’t Palestinians who are racist and anti-Semitic (though, tbh, I will direct you here for that) and who support Hamas in killing Israeli’s, but talking about how there are many “extremist” Palestinians who are hurting Israeli’s and in the next line say there are extremist Israeli’s who are hurting Palestinians is not correct. There are extremist Israeli’s killing, lynching, stealing the houses of Palestinians, and there are Palestinians who are fed up and fighting back. (I am not talking about Hamas vs the IDF here, I am talking about the citizens). I have not seen one reported death of an Israeli due to Palestinian violence (if you have, from a trusted source, send it to me), but I have seen countless of the other way around. I have seen images of charred little bodies, of a baby being dug out of the rubble, of a child’s body that had been so mutilated that you can literally see the insides of their body coming out. (I don’t know if it’s on my Twitter, I didn’t want to save that shit). If this was my country I would be absolutely ashamed of myself and my people and what they are doing in the name of my protection. So you have to forgive me, and forgive other Palestinians, who don’t give a fuck about Israeli’s having anxiety over rockets flying over their heads when we see these images. Where is the protection of our kids? Why does no one seem to mention them except when mentioning the poor, innocent ones in Israel? At least more than the majority of them have their parents to comfort and rock them. At least many of them will probably be saved of ever having to be beneath the rubble of a destroyed building, or digging in it, to hope to find the parts of their parents or siblings just so that they can bury them. Just the links from the start of my answer is enough to support what I am saying.

I have soooo much more I can say, like how Israel uses religion to distort the image of what’s going on (tbh, just check my Twitter for that: language is EVERYTHING), but you didn’t mention religion in any of this and so I won’t either. The only reason I decided to respond to you in such length was because you have been one of the few respectful anons in my inbox in the past few years of me being on here talking about Israel, so I appreciate that from you. 

As promised, some more sources: decolonizepalestine is a good place to start if you haven’t used it already, it has reading materials, myth busting, and more. Here is a map list of destroyed localities from pre-1948 until 2017, run by two anti-Zionist Israelis. Here and here are the articles I promised of a former IDF soldier-turned Palestinian activist, I read these two last year in June and remember coming out much more informed than before I read them. I suggest looking into the writer and his organization, which, if I remember correctly, collects accounts from previous IDF soldiers. I would suggest not to follow Israel and the IDF accounts on any platform, or any Israel times newspaper, simply because they will not tell you the truth. In fairness, you do not have to follow any Palestinian Authority accounts (which I am not even sure there are), but to follow on-ground Palestinians like Mohammed El-Kurd, who has been speaking out since he was 12 (he is now 22) and he is part of the families in Sheikh Jarrah. I have noticed that this and this account have been translating Arabic headlines and tweets for non-Arabic speakers, I have just started following this person but their bio says they are a Palestinian Jewish person so I am interested in their view of things. You can also follow Israeli’s on-ground and see their perspective on things, but I would also advise to compare the Palestinian and Israeli side of things from the people, and critically analyze the language used in each case. Also, this article references Jewish scholars opposed to the occupation (I have not looked into them myself but I plan to after my exams), and Norman Finklestein is another great Jewish scholar to look into if you haven’t. Twitter is better than Instagram and Facebook, so I would stick to getting live-info from there, Twitter does not censor Palestinian content as much as Insta and Facebook so you’re more likely to see things there.

I will end this by saying I personally do not see any other option for peace than to give Palestinians our land back. Whether we may be Muslim, Jewish or Christian, it has always been and will always be our land. I only hope to see it free in my lifetime. 

Free Palestine. 

[the-great-imagines-of-1812]

La Vie En Rose- Bucky Barnes x Rogers! reader

Summary: By some miracle, Bucky Barnes doesn’t fall of the train on that cold day in the Swiss alps in 1945. He spend the rest of his days with his girl; you.

Song Used: La Vie En Rose // (The Louis Armstrong version)

Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast 

You remember the day your Sergeant first set foot in New York City after 2 years of fighting overseas so vividly. Two pairs of arms clutched each of yours; Rebecca, Bucky’s sister, on one side and Winnifred, his mom, on the other. 

Dozens on regiments have reached the US several days before, but because both Bucky and Steve were stuck on one last mission, something in The Swiss Alps, as he had expressed in a letter, they were due on the second to last ship.

But now you were here. Two years of tears, nail-biting anxiety, and exchanging letters back and forth had finally come to an end, and soon both your boys were coming home. 

If it weren’t for the three of you standing near the back, you wouldn’t have seen the ship due to all the people crowding the Brooklyn harbor. Thousands of wives, sisters, brothers, families and best friends all crowded together on that day were there were no clouds in the sky. 

It seemed like some sort of sign. All the madness of war had finally reached it’s end; and now the sun was welcoming the country’s men home.

The magic spell you cast This is "La vie en rose"

You didn’t see Steve or Bucky at first. Rebecca clutched on to you, the poor girl almost breaking out into sobs as the three of you had been waiting nearly an hour since the boat had come into sight. 

Winnifred stood on the very tip of her heels, hand over her eyes, in an attempt to block out the sun so she could get a better look at the soldiers walking down the gangplank. 

The shriek she let out could’ve made you deaf if you didn’t realize what it was for. Helping Rebecca up from the ground where she had collapsed, you clasped a hand over you mouth as the last of the soldiers set foot on solid ground, Bucky and Steve among them. 

Rebecca sped away quickly, her body crashing onto her brother’s in a tight hug. Walking up to them yourself, with Winnifred close behind, you gave Steve a tap on the shoulder and he turned around with a smile.

“Stevie, look at you! You’re so tall now. You’ll have to reach the flour on the shelf for me now.” you smiled, while he wrapped you in a now- tight - hug. 

“I have absolutely no problem at all reaching the flour for-” he attempted to answer you, but was cut off by Bucky.

“What m’ I,  dollface, chopped liver?” He said from behind you. 

Turning around and practically jumping on him, he wrapped two arms around your back. He was warm and smelled like fresh pine. Tucking your head into his neck, you felted grounded and safe. 

Because he was home. 

“Let go of the sister, Buck. She does live with me, and we oughta to all go home to catch a rest.”

“Oh shove off Steve. She may be your sister, but she’s my girl and I missed her.”

When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see "La vie en rose"

The day that Bucky got down on one knee with his mom’s ring in hand was one you’ll remember for ever. 

It was a year after he had come home, and Steve had put him through the third degree (despite being his best friend) when he stood at the doorway of the small apartment that you and Steve shared with a small bunch of flowers.

You had come out a few minutes later, with a dusty green dress, hair curled to perfection and a red lip.

Steve had demanded that he bring you home by 9, how he couldn't  hurt you, the regular stuff he would say when Bucky came to take you out on a date. 

The stars seemed to shine for only you two that night. There was a soft jazz tune playing throughout the park. The pair of you had just gone to dinner, and couldn’t stop giggling, which earned you a few stares from the elderly people trying to enjoy a quiet night.

But he sat you down on a bench, grabbed both your hands gently, while he got down on one knee, probably delivering what was the most moving monologue you had ever heard in your life:

“Y/N M/N Rogers, love of my life, doll-”

You knew what was coming. Tears streamed down your face in happiness. “Buck I-”

“Just please hun- let me say what I gotta’ say. We’ve known each other for a very long time now. And ever since I can remember, Steve always threatened to punch me whenever I did so much as look at you.”

This earned a laugh from you.

“But somehow, we made it work, and the three of us ran around Hell’s Kitchen like the mighty trio we still are. Hiding under the watchful eye of Steve in our late teens and early twenty’s was not easy- but here we are. And before I left for England, I promised I was gonna marry ya. And I’m a man of my word.”

He let go of both your hands to dig for something in his pocket. After a few seconds, he pulled out a little red box.

“This ring belonged to my mom, and now it’s mine to use. I hope you’ll let me give it to you. You are the love of my life. I might not have much, but I sure love you with everything I have. Will you marry me?”

You practically jumped on him, and if he wasn’t on one knee and hadn’t managed to maintain balance, he would’ve fallen over. Peppering kisses all over his face while he wrapped his arms around you. 

“I’ll take this as a yes, doll?”

“You bet, Sergeant.”

“Now let me put this ring on you, hmm?”

When you press me to your heart I'm in a world apart

You became Mr. and Mrs. Barnes in the fall of that same year. It was a small wedding, so there wasn’t much planning.

It was held in one of Howard Stark’s many residences, an small estate in Albany, which he offered to have the wedding held, and even officiated himself, as he had been a close friend of yours since you had entered a career in science, and had helped Bucky and Steve overseas. 

There weren’t may people in attendance, but that was exactly what you and Bucky had wanted. There was Steve and your soon-to-be sister in law, Peggy (which you had gotten along fabulously with), Bucky’s mother and father and siblings, Howard himself (of course) and his girlfriend, Maria.

The golden rays of the sun shone through the high windows, light bouncing off practically everything in the room. You had previously saved up enough for a dress, and maybe Howard had given you a bonus in the past couple of weeks just so you could. He didn’t tell you that, of course.

As soon as you had been pronounced man and wife, Bucky swept you up in his arms, giving you a quick spin, dipping you, which got “Calm down you two rabbits-” from Howard. Maria slapped him after.

Celebration soon followed in the dining room of the home, with a home-made meal, courtesy of Winnifred, Rebecca, Peggy and Maria all together.

You couldn’t have been more thankful.

A world where roses bloom And when you speak, angels sing from above

The Barnes Family had been blessed with twins two years later, in 1948. One girl, and one boy; Rebecca Margaret Barnes and Robert Howard Barnes. They lit up both you and Bucky’s life, and you both became involved in a much more domestic life, now moving to the suburbs, but still remaining in the state of New York in order to be close to friends and family, which now included your new niece, Sarah Y/N Rogers. 

Howard and Maria had yet to have kids, but they were in no rush to get married, either. 

Every weekday Bucky would come home from work at the bank, were he was finally able to make the money he had been dreaming of his entire life, and your worked from home, making many blueprints for Stark Industries, which you were now the co-owner of, and spent some days at your office in the city while Maria had offered to babysit numerous times. 

Fridays Bucky would bring home soda-pop for the entire family, which was then followed by a big dinner made by you, and dancing in the living room with Bucky till’ midnight, when the kids were already in bed. 

Saturdays were for the Rogers, Barnes and Stark families to get together and have a picnic in the park you, Bucky, and Steve had grown up in. Maria always had the habit of bringing the watermelon, you the apple pie, and Peggy with her famous  English biscuits. 

Sundays, Winnifred practically dragged three families to church, much to everyone’s protest, but it was always followed by a plentiful Sunday dinner.

Nobody ever complained about that.

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs Give your heart and soul to me,

The years had passed, yet none of these traditions faltered, even when all the kids were of age to leave for their college education. 

Minus one Anthony ‘Tony’ Stark, who had been born in 1970. He was the youngest of the bunch. 

As Rebecca and Robert Jr. had moved off to college in New Jersey at the same time, you and Bucky moved back to the city, not to far from The Starks.

The only one tradition that never faltered was yours and Bucky’s dancing on Friday nights, where you often danced to the song form your wedding- “Dream A Little Dream of Me”

You would love and cherish the small things. You knew that then, you knew that now. 

To love and remember, because as long as you and Bucky had each other, you would always- what was the phrase the French used? oh, right.

You would always see La Vie en Rose.

[jedivoodoochile]

El 2 de octubre de 1895 nace en la ciudad de Nueva York, Julius Henry Marx, conocido artísticamente como GROUCHO MARX, fue un actor, humorista y escritor estadounidense, popular principalmente por ser miembros de los hermanos Marx.

Es considerado uno de los cómicos más influyente de todos los tiempos, siendo sus frases, a pesar del paso del tiempo, destacadas en la cultura pop por generaciones, incluso en la época actual.

Creció en el seno de una modesta familia de inmigrantes alemanes judíos, pero de larga tradición en espectáculos de variedades y en el mundo de la farándula; fue el cuarto de seis hermanos después de Manfred, Harpo y Chico y antes que Zeppo y Gummo.

Su madre era Miene (Minnie) Schoenberg y emigró a Estados Unidos desde Alemania junto a sus padres (que habían dirigido una compañía ambulante de teatro en Alemania; él era mago y ventrilocuo y ella una arpista tirolesa)​.

Se preocuparon en educar a sus hijos en la música (canto Groucho, piano Chico, arpa Harpo).

Su padre fue Simon (Samuel) Marx (nacido como Marrix), un sastre alemán igualmente emigrado y nacido en Alsacia cuando esta formaba parte de Francia.

Dedicó toda su vida al mundo del espectáculo humorístico, no en vano, fue su propia madre quien le animó a empezar a actuar en distintos cabarets desde muy joven.

Julius, por sobrenombre Groucho, de grouch, "gruñón" en inglés, se ponía un mostacho postizo muy incómodo y un día decidió quitárselo y pintarse uno con betún, con lo que configuró parte de la iconografía de su personaje; igualmente añadió unos característicos andares gachos que suscitaron la risa cuando los ensayó en el espectáculo y completó su personaje con cejas pobladas, un habano y gafas de metal.

Interpretó habitualmente a un abogado cazadotes de verbo fácil, pícaro, ingenioso y dispuesto a todo por dinero, especialmente a dar un "braguetazo" o boda de conveniencia con una vieja rica (por lo general interpretada por Margaret Dumont).

Su humor era especialmente corrosivo, imaginativo, alocado y anarquista, potenciado por las travesuras del mimo Harpo y la picaresca y slang italianizante del jugador compulsivo Chico.

Junto con sus hermanos Chico, Harpo, Gummo y Zeppo recorrió casi todos los escenarios de Norteamérica durante más de 25 años, y en 1920 actuó en su primera película, titulada Humor risk.

A este film le siguieron otros títulos que hicieron mundialmente famosos a los Hermanos Marx, como Sopa de ganso (Duck soup, 1933), Una noche en la ópera (A night at the opera, 1935), Un día en las carreras (A day at the races, 1937), Los hermanos Marx en el Oeste (Go West, 1940) y Una noche en Casablanca (A night in Casablanca, de 1946); su última película, Amor en conserva (1949), contó con una casi debutante Marilyn Monroe en el reparto.

Entre sus múltiples colaboraciones, Groucho Marx trabajó como comentarista cómico en un programa de radio llamado "You Bet Your Life".

Con motivo de sus apariciones en dicha emisión, recibió el Premio al Mejor Humorista del Año en 1949.

Intentó abrirse paso en la radio, pero tampoco tuvo demasiado éxito pese a su incontinencia verbal, "Flywheel, Shyster and Flywheel" en 1934, pero al regresar a su personaje característico en un ciclo de películas producidas por la Metro adquirió fama universal.

Otros programas de radio fueron "El Pabst Show" (1943) y "Apueste su vida" (1947-1949), premio Peabody en 1949, y posterior programa de televisión.

Disuelto el trío, trabajó en algunas películas de menor aceptación, exitosos programas de televisión, actuaciones personales, discos, hasta su fallecimiento.

Dos años antes había conseguido un Oscar especial por su larga trayectoria artística.

Trabajó en 18 películas, 14 de ellas junto a sus hermanos, y tuvo millones de admiradores.

También fue guionista de "The King and the Chorus Girl" (1937) de Mervyn Le Roy y autor de una obra de teatro "Time for Elizabeth" (1948).

Durante la antiizquierdista Caza de brujas, apoyó al Comité pro Primera enmienda para proteger la libertad de expresión junto a otras figuras del espectáculo como Frank Sinatra, Humphrey Bogart, Gene Kelly y Rita Hayworth.

Eso le supuso ser investigado por el FBI.

La producción literaria de Groucho Marx siguió encuadrada en la misma tónica que caracterizaba sus actuaciones en la gran pantalla. En 1933 publicó Camas (Beds), su primer libro.

Otros ensayos conocidos del autor son Many Happy Returns (1942), Groucho y yo (Groucho and Me), de 1959, Memorias de un amante sarnoso (Memoirs of a Mangy Lover), de 1963, The Groucho letters (Las cartas de Groucho), de 1967, y el libro de memorias The Groucho phile; an illustrated life (La figura de Groucho; una biografía ilustrada), de 1976.

Un humor disparatado, mordaz e incluso cínico marcó la vida del cómico estadounidense.

La particular "filosofía marxiana", basada en el porte descarado y en la visión hipercrítica de los convencionalismos sociales, ha influido en generaciones de intelectuales del mundo entero.

Poco antes de morir, la Academia de Hollywood le concedió un Oscar honorífico, en reconocimiento a toda su carrera cinematográfica.

Buscaba la risa de los demás y se hizo tan adicto a las carcajadas que a menudo despertaban sus comentarios agudos y no siempre amables que las impertinencias se convirtieron en parte importante de su manera de ser y le trajeron problemas en su vida: su familia y sus amigos que se cansaban de sus bromas pesadas y de sus ‘zascas’ mordaces.

Groucho habla de ello en sus memorias, le dedica un capítulo entero titulado Meteduras de pata.

Reconoce que lo que él denomina "un impulso nervioso, un reflejo automático o únicamente una perversidad básica" le ha traído muchos problemas, "Tal vez un psicólogo lo describiría como enfermedad de la Metedura de Pata", afirmó.

Fue muy mujeriego, en la realidad y en la pantalla. En varias de sus cintas perseguía a una señora millonaria, personaje interpretado por Margaret Dumont, a quien soltaba en la vida real las mismas frescas poco caballerosas que en las películas.

Le decía cosas menos amables que su famoso " quiere casarse conmigo? Es usted rica? Conteste primero a la segunda pregunta".

La última mujer en su vida fue Erin Fleming, que fue su joven secretaria y su pareja, a sus hijos les pareció que se aprovechaba de él y la cosa acabó en los tribunales: su hijo Arthur lo inhabilitó y logró que un juez apartara a la chica, 51 años más joven que Groucho, de las finanzas del cómico.

El 19 de agosto de 1977 muere en Los Ángeles, California a causa de una neumonía.

Pese a su fallecimiento hace cuatro décadas, la figura de Groucho ha seguido estando muy presente en la cultura popular, y sus características gafas, nariz, puro y bigote se han convertido en un icono de la comedia.

En los últimos días, miles de personas han rendido homenaje al actor en la red social Twitter, donde se repiten una y otra vez decenas de sus frases más conocidas, como "Disculpen si les llamo caballeros, pero no les conozco muy bien" o "¿A quién va a creer usted? ¿A mí o a sus propios ojos?".

Dejó atrás tres exesposas, Ruth, Kay y Eden, tres hijos (Arthur, que fue exitoso guionista y escritor de biografías; Miriam y Melinda), 18 películas, 14 de ellas junto a sus hermanos y millones de admiradores.

Una de sus célebres frases fue: "No deseo pertenecer a ningún club que acepte como socio a alguien como yo".

Groucho Marx fue incinerado; sus cenizas, tras ser robadas en 1982 y devueltas la misma noche a las puertas del cercano Mount Sinai Memorial Park,​ siguen en el Eden Memorial Park (Mission Hills, California), siendo falso que su lápida contenga el epitafio "Disculpe que no me levante", como popularmente se repite, aunque sí parece cierto que en una entrevista poco antes de su muerte formuló esa frase como un deseo, lo que pudo dar lugar a la confusión posterior.

Arthur Marx contó muchas cosas de su padre en el libro Mi vida con Groucho; por ejemplo, que cuando iba a un restaurante caro de Hollywood aparcaba lejos para ahorrar unos dólares en parquímetro. Pero también el hijo de Groucho dijo que su padre era mucho más tierno de lo que aparentaba: "Era un sentimental, pero preferiría morirse antes de que nadie lo supiera", explicó.

[brownslair]

Albert Drake

“I’ll Bet Your Life”

Dime Detective Magazine Vol. 58 nº 1, september 1948.

[bucksbisexual]

don’t take away my breath too soon

also on ao3

part 1 / 2 (coming soon)

Summary: Sarawat had to win this game, he was sure of it.

Words: 1948

Tags: #First Kiss, #inspired by a scene in whyru ep12 !, #the bet exists but they don’t really give a fuck about it, #basically i wrote ep8 the way the gays wanted it, #just kidding i cant write for a living, #confident gay tine, #me vs writing tine as anything other than a confident gay, #ep9 who? i only know success

"Well, how about this?" Fong started. "If you win, my friend will post the love confession to your friend," Man smirked, "but if your team loses, your friend has to leave my friend alone," Fong said. "Deal?"

Tine didn't know why this was happening, but he didn't like it.

Yes, he hadn't told his friends that Sarawat had already kissed him twice and they basically confessed to each other after not being able to stand being far from each other for three days, but, even then, they had no saying in his relationship with Sarawat. The same Sarawat that had only been looking at him ever since they got there and who Tine thought his eyes were telling him that no bet would stop him, not that Tine wanted him to.

"I think," Sarawat spoke, "your friend here is going to have to prepare a sweet love confession."

Tine wanted to punch his face, but instead, he shot a glance at Sarawat, sighed and left.

He'd deal with his friends later. For now, he had a pillow to scream at waiting back home.

-------

Almost a whole week had passed since then and Tine's friends mentioned their bet in almost all their conversations and, to be honest, Tine was nothing but tired of it.

They were going to Jae Tun's bar after finishing their last class and, of course, the bet was mentioned. His friends started talking about how good the Engineering football team was and how Political Science's football team had no chance against them and blah, blah, blah. Tine didn't care, he had heard this at least 25 times since he greeted them that same morning, and he was really fucking tired.

"Guys, I'm going to the bathroom. Don't wait for me, I'll catch up to you later," Tine announced, trying to get away from hearing the same arguments for the 26th time in less than 24 hours.

"Sure, do we order for you?" Peuk asked.

"No need," Tine smiled and left to the bathroom. Thankfully they weren't that far away from the university building so he could take his time before turning to the conversation he had heard for way too many times.

Tine started thinking, did the bet really matter? He knew that some stupid bet wouldn't stop Sarawat or would slow down his heart whenever Sarawat came too close to him. He wasn't ready to confess his love for Sarawat to the whole world and less when there were thousands of Sarawat fans that would pay for his head the moment he did. But, on the other hand, Tine was ready to tell Sarawat he liked him, because, yes, he did. It had taken him two kisses and some time, but he liked Sarawat. He liked his stupid perfect hair and his stupid collection of sandals he wore everywhere instead of normal shoes and his stupid flirting attempts than definitely did not make him blush every time and his stupid eyes that sparkled whenever he talked about music and his stupid lips, the ones he had dreamt about for weeks and had wished of tasting all of his life.

He was stupidly in love with Sarawat and since Tine didn't want to risk losing Sarawat over some dumb bet, he had to make sure he didn't lose.

As he got closer to the bathroom, he saw someone sitting on the floor grabbing his side in what looked like pain. Tine, worried, walked faster to see if the person was seriously injured, only for worry to completely wash over him.

"Wat?"

Tine heard a sniff and hurried over to where Sarawat was sitting, with a sweaty face and a drop of blood coming from his lip. The sight broke Tine's heart, who could do this to him?

"What happened?" Sarawat didn't respond and Tine gently touched his chin and made Sarawat look at him. Tine tried to find the answer in his eyes but Sarawat lowered down his head. Since it looked like there wouldn't be an answer any time soon, Tine decided to take Sarawat home so he could at least take care of his wounds somewhere safe.

"Can you get up? Does it hurt that much?" Tine put Sarawat's arm around his shoulder and tried lifting him up, only for Sarawat to kneel in pain and shake his head.

"It hurts," his voice was full of pain and Tine promised himself he would punch whoever did this to Sarawat.

"Let's try getting up slowly. We can test if you can walk and if not, I can take you home on my back," Sarawat looked at him like he was nuts.

"You realise I'll break your back if you do, right?"

"I do cheerleading, dumbass, I can easily carry you. You're not even heavy to begin with," Ever since he had started cheerleading, P'Fang's strict training had movitaved Tine to start working out and he had definitely stronger arms and legs than when he first started university a few months ago.

Sarawat didn't answer and instead tried getting up again. Tine lowered his arm to grab Sarawat's hip and without much effort got him on his feet.

"Try taking some steps. Don't worry, I got you," Tine's tone was so sweet his ears blushed a bit. Thankfully if Sarawat noticed, Tine didn't see any reactions.

"Don't wanna," Sarawat said cutely and, wait, was he pouting?

Tine couldn't believe him. Was he flirting with him when less than 5 minutes ago he was sitting all alone crying and in pain? He truly was in love with a dumbass.

"C'mon saraleo, just try. If you truly can't, I'll carry you home."

Sarawat pouted again and Tine's heart almost couldn't take it. How could he look cute even like this? This world was unfair.

Tine sighed. He had weaknesses and, according to his accelerating heart, this was one of them.

"Fine, I'll carry you." Tine moved the arm he had around Sarawat's hip and, lowering himself a bit, he turned his back to Sarawat.

Just as he expected, Sarawat was a light weight in his back. He seriously needed to eat more, Tine was worried that with everything going in the music club and his classes, Sarawat skipped meals and didn't eat enough.

They were probably halfway there when Tine's legs complained. Look, in his defense, he skipped a few leg days because he hated the stiffness from the day after. It eventually came back to him when his legs started hurting and he decided they should sit and rest for a few minutes until his legs didn't hurt as much.

Once they were both seated, Tine noticed he had tissues in his pocket and he washed off some of the blood in Sarawat's lip.

"Who did this to you?" Tine asked, hoping he'd finally get an answer. Sarawat looked away from Tine.

"The same group as before," as what?! "just because their girlfriends liked my IG posts." That's really stupid. "What a stupid reason."

Only Sarawat's soft voice made Tine control himself and not scream at Sarawat, "you've been hit before? How is it that I'm getting to know about this just now?"

"I didn't want you to worry," Sarawat looked into his eyes and Tine almost got hooked on them, had it not been for the blood coming out of his lip again.

He patted the tissue against the side of his lips, careful to not hurt him, "Who is worried about you? I'm just afraid you will die young, that's all. You have to tell me from now on whenever you have a problem. Get it?"

Sarawat looked down. "Got it."

Tine softly patted the tissue again.

"It's okay," Sarawat grabbed his hand, "you can stop."

Tine looked at their hands and then at Sarawat, only to find him looking at the tissue in his hand.

"It's not that bad," Sarawat took a deep breath.

And he rested his head on Tine's shoulder.

Tine's heart was not going to make it.

Oh my god, this boy is going to be the death of me.

"It's way better like this, the pain is gone," Tine truly hoped Sarawat couldn't hear his heartbeat from his shoulder as he hugged his arm because he would not survive the teasing.

"What's with you?" his voice was barely a murmur.

No answer came from Sarawat for a few seconds and then, he grabbed his boob.

What the fuck.

He couldn't even question what just happened before Sarawat answered him, "You just healed me."

"You're such a pervert," Sarawat just smiled at him and Tine couldn't even pretend he was mad or fight the smile in his lips, he looked too cute like that.

"Now I don't mind getting beaten up more often if it means I'll have you here to heal me."

Sarawat truly didn't have any empathy for Tine's heart.

"What if I get attacked when I leave my house tomorrow? Can you... sleep over at my place tonight?" Sarawat looked so innocent Tine almost accepted immediatly, but he remembered he didn't have any of his clothes or basic necessities with him and his friends were still waiting for him.

"I don't have anything with me, though."

"It's okay, you can wear my clothes." Tine wondered if sleeping in Sarawat's clothes and being surrounded by his scent would make him like him more. Probably yes. "You can even use my toothbrush, I don't care."

Tine sighed. He wasn't going to give up, wasn't he?

"Fine, I'll stay," Sarawat rested his head on his shoulder again with a big smile. "But I will go home to get my things, I don't want to use your disgusting toothbrush."

"Yes babe," Sarawat said in the cutest way possible and Tine's ears blushed.

"Dickhead," Sarawat chuckled and turned to look at Tine.

"Do you still have my football jersey?"

"Yeah, I'll give it back to you when I come back from-"

"No need, I have another one at home. But I do want you to wear it and cheer for me at the game, will you?" Sarawat's puppy eyes were too much for Tine and he forced himself to look away. He shouldn't look this cute with a bruise in his face. "If you come wearing my jersey and football shorts, I will have enough strength to beat Engineering."

Tine couldn't help but smile at Sarawat's expression. I'm so in love with this stupid boy. "Why do I need to do that, huh?"

The smile that flourished afterwards was one Tine hoped Sarawat didn't see.

"Let's get going, it's getting dark and I still need to go home to get my things," Tine put his hand on Sarawat's knee.

Sarawat looked between Tine's hand and his eyes, "I already told you you can use my things, I don't mind."

Tine rose up, "But I do, so get up or else I won't carry you home and you will have to go there in your miserable state."

"Carry me, pretty please?" Sarawat used that cute tone again from before and Tine damned not having thick skin because he felt his cheeks burning. He was sure Sarawat had seen his effect on him and avoided looking at his direction.

"Hm." Sarawat got up by himself and Tine lowered himself so Sarawat could get up. They didn't have that much of a height difference but Tine didn't want him to get hurt by jumping or whatever.

Thankfully, they got to Sarawat's home in one piece and Sarawat decided to shower as soon as he arrived, so Tine left him a post-it note saying he was going home to get everything he needed and left Sarawat's.

[elcinelateleymickyandonie]

WENDY BARRIE.

Filmography

Movie theater

1932 The Callbox Mystery

1932 Collision

1932 Threads

1932 Where Is This Lady?

1932 Wedding Rehearsal

1932 The Barton Mystery

1933 Cash

1933 It's a Boy

1933 The Private Life of Henry VIII

1933 The Acting Business

1933 The House of Trent

1934 Murder at the Inn

1934 The Man I Want

1934 without you

1934 Freedom of the Seas

1935 It's a Small World

1935 College Scandal

1935 The Big Broadcast of 1936

1935 A Feather in Her Heat

1935 Millions in the Air

1935 There Goes Susie

1936 Love on a Bet

1936 Speed

1936 Ticket to Paradise

1936 Give Her a Ring

1936 Under Your Spel

1937 Breezing Home

1937 Wings Over Honolulu

1937What Price Vengeance

1937 Dead End

1937 A Girl with Ideas

1937 Prescription for Romance

1938 I Am the Law

1938 Newsboys' Home

1939 Pacific Liner

1939 The Saint Strikes Back

1939 The Hound of the Baskervilles

1939 Five Came Back

1939 The Witness Vanishes

1939 Day-Time Wife

1940 The Saint Takes Over

1940 Women in War

1940 Cross-Country Romance

1940 Mens Against the Sky

1940 Who Killed Aunt Maggie?

1941 The Saint in Palm Springs

1941 Repent at Leisure

1941 The Gay Falcon

1941 Public Enemies

1942 A Date with the Falcon

1942 Eyes of the Underworld

1943 Forever and a Day

1943 Follies Girl

1943 Submarine Aler

1954 The blonde phenomenon.

Television

1948 The Adventures of Oky Doky

1948 The Wendy Barrie Show

1949 Actor's Studio

1950 Starlight Theater

1952 Stars in Khaki and Blue

1961 The Islanders

1962 The Beachcomber.

Créditos: Tomado de Wikipedia

https://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wendy_Barrie

#HONDURASQUEDATEENCASA

#ELCINELATELEYMICKYANDONIE

[vintagedreamsofsennett]

The opening

Lord Epping Returns (1951)

Loving scenes

Man-I-Cured (1941) / Wife Tames Wolf (1947) / Twin Husbands (1946) / Hired Husband (1947) / Bet Your Life (1948)

The episode Dorothy became a maid

Maid Trouble (1946)

The episode Leon became a butler

Hired Husband (1947)

Dorothy attacking the man

Borrowed Blonde (1947) / Beware of Redheads (1945)

Talking about "Reno"

Beware of Redheads (1945) / Wife Tames Wolf (1947)

Golf club scenes

He Forgot to Remember (1944) / Twin Husbands (1946)

Dorothy's parasuicide

He Forgot to Remember (1944)

Leon's parasuicide

Wife Tames Wolf (1947)

Dorothy attacking the woman

Maid Trouble (1946) / Twin Husbands (1946)

Vase scenes

He Forgot to Remember (1944) / Oh, Professor Behave! (1946) / Twin Husbands (1946) / Borrowed Blonde (1947) / Beware of Redheads (1945)

The ending

Borrowed Blonde (1947)

[meanstreetspodcasts]

BONUS - Secret Words (You Bet Your Life)

It's always a safe bet when Groucho Marx is on hand, especially when he's hosting the madcap game show You Bet Your Life. The legendary comedian and rapid-fire ad libber keeps things moving (and audiences laughing) as pairs of contestants wager their way through trivia questions to a grand prize. And there may be a secret word dropped along the way. We'll hear a pair of episodes originally aired on NBC on March 10, 1948 and April 14, 1948.

Check out this episode!

[beckzorz]

World On Fire (3/12)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader; background skinny!Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter Warnings: Canon-typical violence; language; sexual content. Summary: Brooklyn, 1948. Bucky Barnes, war hero, lives three floors down, and the evenings he comes to watch the sunset with you on the fire escape are the best times in your shabby life. But reality is far uglier than it seems when swinging your legs six floors up with Bucky at your side. On top of a good-for-nothing brother and a poor family upstate, there’s a new mob hitman in town: the Winter Soldier. A/N: Written for @cametobuyplums Fizz’s 2000 Plums Writing Challenge—thanks Fizz! xoxo

3. Sunday, June 1

“Goldie!”

You pop up from the bench at Prospect Park as your friend hurries over, her pumps crunching in the gravel. Goldie wraps you in a tight hug, then pulls back, her bright smiling eyes reminding you—not for the first time—of your brother’s. Of course, there’s no dangerous baggage with her. Goldie is pure sunshine.

“How are you?” Goldie asks.

“I’m swell! So glad it’s Sunday,” you say with a sigh.

Goldie grins. “Best day of the week!” She pulls you back down on the bench. “How’s work? How’s life?”

“Oh, about the same as usual. You?”

“Didn’t your brother come back into town?” Goldie says. “What’s he been up to?”

“Oh… I’m not sure.” You twist your fingers together in your lap, gut churning.

“Don’t want to pry, hm?” Goldie’s eyes are sharp. You shrug.

“Not much point to prying. He wouldn’t tell me a thing anyway. He just goes his own way.”

“Uh huh.” Goldie crosses her arms and snorts. “Your brother is something else. Hard to believe you two are related, from all the stories I’ve hea—”

“Oh look, it’s Mary!” You jump to your feet, face burning, and hurry forward to meet the final member of your little trio.

“Hello you two.” Mary‘s strawberry blond curls bounce around her shoulders. She’s got her hands in her pockets and a smirk on her narrow face. You stop a few feet away and raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t you look like the cat that got the cream!”

Mary giggles. She loops her right arm around your waist and steers you back towards Goldie.

“You do look awful smug,” Goldie says, her arms crossed.

“Well, I have some news.” Mary tugs her left hand out of her pocket and holds it up. Is that…?

It is.

Your jaw drops. You grab Mary’s hand and stare at her new diamond ring.

“Oh my goodness! Mary!” Goldie cries. She flings her arms around Mary and leads her in a merry dance. Mary laughs loud and clear, curls glinting in the sun.

You grin as you watch them, your own hands clasped under your chin. Mary’s only been seeing Julius since February—a few months of courting, and now they’re engaged. And with the smugness wiped from her face, you can tell just how happy Mary is. She’s practically glowing.

Mary breaks free of Goldie’s stranglehold and pulls you in for a proper hug. You can feel her breath on your ear, the cheer of her giggle, the lightness that might be enough to let her float off into the sky.

Well, maybe not float off into the sky, but you’ll see less of her now, you’re sure.

“Oh I’ll miss you!” you exclaim, squeezing her tight.

“Well it’s not like I’m leaving town!” She nudges your shoulder. “Julius only lives a few blocks from me! And we’re hoping to find a place of our own soon. I don’t fancy living with his family. Bad enough living with my own mother,” she teases.

“So when’s the wedding?” Goldie asks.

Mary hooks her arms through your and Goldie’s elbows and sets the three of you walking. “Soon, I hope! I’ve still got a few things to finish for my hope chest, but then, I suppose I’ll finish them after if I need to.”

“Will you?” Goldie says, brow arched. “I think you’ll be far too busy with a handsome husband to finish embroidering another set of napkins.”

Mary’s giggle is high and bright. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but there’s a nagging in your soul. Embroidered napkins? A hope chest? A husband, even? These two really do come from another world. Still, it’s not their fault. And you wouldn’t trade your solitary apartment and the accompanying fire escape chats for the world.

Even if that’s all you ever get, you’d rather keep those than gain anything else.

“Enough about me,” Mary says. “I’m sure you’ll be sick to death of all the wedding talk soon enough. What about you two?”

“Welllll,” Goldie drawls, “I’ve got a fella taking me to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Which fella’s this?” you ask. Mary snorts, elbows you.

“Albert,” Goldie says severely.

“Now is he the banker or the accountant?” you ask.

“Andrew is the banker,” Goldie says.

She detangles herself from Mary and plops down on a bench, patting the middle for you. You sit between them, cross your ankles.

“What about you?” Goldie asks.

“What about me?”

“You never tell us if you’ve got a man,” Mary says.

“Nothing to tell,” you say firmly.

“And I don’t believe it for a second,” Goldie cuts in. She pokes your arm. “You’re pretty, you work hard, you’re plenty smart, so why aren’t you getting yourself a beau?”

Fire burns your cheeks. “I—”

“She’s blushing,” Mary murmurs. “I bet she’s got a beau already, and she’s just too shy to tell us.”

“I don’t,” you insist, but Goldie tugs at your sleeve and bats her eyelashes at you.

“I won’t tell a soul,” she promises.

“Pleeeease?” Mary winds an arm around your waist and smiles up at you with every ounce of sickening sweetness she can muster. You sigh, defeated.

“There is a fella,” you say quietly, and both of them squeal. You shush them, shoulders around your ears. “There’s nothing to tell! Only time I saw him with a nice dress on was in ‘42.”

“Six years!” Mary gasps. “You’ve been pining after one fella for six whole years?”

You shrug and duck your head, cheeks hotter than ever.

“What in heaven’s name have you been doing for six years that he hasn’t noticed you?” she adds. “If he hasn’t seen you in a nice dress since ‘42, no wonder you’re still pining!”

Words escape you. You’ve never thought of it that way. You do have a nice dress—the one you’re wearing, the same one you’ve been wearing every warm Sunday for two years—and one too fine to wear even on Sundays. A gift from your aunt, the one you’d worn to her wedding. But you’ve never dressed up for Bucky, not since…

Not since ‘42.

How can you explain it? It’s crazy, when Mary puts it that way. You have to be crazy to waste what plenty—including your own aunt—would call the best six years of your life. And for what? Daydreams, and nothing more.

Well. Not quite nothing. There are those moments on the fire escape, with legs dangling and a shared cigarette, chatter that just skirts the things neither of you can quite say, that sweet comfort that feels as much like home as your own bed. And sometimes you pass him on the stairs, so close that you can smell him, your hand passing inches from his. A fancy dress would be out of place in those dim stairs, or on the fire escape.

But you don’t even know if your fancy dress still fits. No, Mary’s right. It’s crazy, letting it go on like this. Why haven’t you done something, anything, to push it along?

“If you don’t see him in nice dresses,” Goldie says slowly, “and he can’t be from work, unless you’re pining after the ancient doctor, which I wouldn’t dare accuse you of, he must be that neighbor of yours.”

You blink. How…?

“James Barnes, I think?”

Your jaw drops. “Goldie, how on earth—”

“Oh my god!”

Mary leaps to her feet and claps a hand over her mouth. You follow her wide-eyed gaze, mystified.

Then you spot him.

“David?!”

Your brother, your baby brother, staggering towards you with a shiner and a bloody nose and that sunny smile of his a bloody grimace. The people he’s passed are gaping; Mary beside you makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat and drags Goldie away, not even muttering a farewell.

Only then do you manage to get to your feet. You run to David, fear tightening your throat. The embarrassment of it all is nothing, not now, not when David’s barely upright. He collapses into your arms, nearly sending you to your knees as he stifles a groan.

“Think I scared your friends away,” he mumbles. He sniffs, rights himself, and wipes his bloody upper lip with the back of his hand.

You fish out your handkerchief, but you’ve no idea where to put it first. His nose, his mouth? The scrape on his jaw? What happened to him? What—and who?

“Come on, Deborah,” a man says, hurrying his girl past. He shoots you and David a dirty look, and a stab of unease cuts through you.

Sunny Prospect Park is no place for David. Or you.

“Come on,” you tell him. “I’m taking you home.”

—

David hisses as you press a damp handkerchief to his nose. It’s as much complaint as you’ve heard from him. Tiny hisses, bit-back groans, the odd sigh punctuated by a hand to his ribs. You focus on patching him up as best you can, but it’s harder and harder to bite back the questions. You’re dying to ask. More than ever, you want to ask.

This has to do with that envelope from Wednesday night. The one full of money, the one already on its way upstate. What else could it possibly be? What else does your little brother do that could cause such harm to come his way?

All that money…

Where did it come from?

But you can’t ask. You can’t. If you know, you’ll be weighted down by the truth. You’ll have to do something about it. Scold him, report him, try and make him do different. Be different.

But since when have you ever been able to sway David?

No, the less you know the better.

All you can do is help. He’s your brother. You can do no less.

—

You let David take your bed for the night. “Just tonight, David,” you warn him, but he only kisses the top of your head and eases himself between the sheets.

A blanket on the floor and a spare towel rolled under your head is the best you can manage, but at least from here you can watch the rise and fall of David’s shoulder as he breathes. He’s here, he’s not bleeding. He’s safe.

Safe—safe from what?

You turn away and curl your arm under your head, worrying your lips. You press your free hand against the floor, pushing down in hopes that you’ll smother your questions as easily as you grind the dust into the floor. Behind you, David tosses, turns; his little pained noises paint the quiet apartment. The bed creaks with his every move.

It takes a long time to fall asleep.

—

A thump startles you awake. You jolt up, and a fire burns down the side of your neck. “Ah!”

Silence falls. You massage your cricked neck, realize you’re still on the floor, and whirl to the bed. It’s… empty.

“David?”

A sigh behind you, and the squeak of the door. David’s shoulders are hunched with shame, and you can just make out his wan smile, black eye, swollen nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya.”

“Wait, David—”

But he’s gone.

You gape at the door with bleary eyes and a sunken heart. Your own brother, sneaking out at—you squint at the clock—three in the morning. At least… at least he can smile, even if just.

You crawl into bed, too tired to bother locking the door. A strange smell lingers on your sheets. It’s strange for this place to smell like something other than yourself, or cigarettes, or the occasional burnt toast. The scent on your pillowcase is… almost like home, really. Well, it’s David. Of course it’s home.

David. Where is he going? It’s barely three in the morning. Why did he leave? Why didn’t you make him stay? Why didn’t you even ask?

You know why. You know the answer to every single question, if you’d only let your mind go down those dark paths.

You don’t. You just force yourself to sleep.

to be continued…

[absynthe--minded]

people’s reactions to the Endgame ending are so funny to me?

like

the biggest mystery is how old!Steve got back from his parallel timeline to the one all the others are in, but I’ll assume he found some way to hop back over (maybe hitting up Hank Pym for help? or using his last jump some time in the 1990s?) but everyone who hates the ending is assuming that Steve basically went back in time and did nothing for 70 years and that makes no sense at all

we’re told that changes to the past don’t result in changes to the future, but instead they create an alternate timeline, which explains why the events of the MCU movies haven’t been undone, but like

guys

1948 is the first year that the Democratic Party had integration as an issue on its platform. Steve’s probably been a loyal Democrat since the New Deal; do we really think he’d have nothing to say on that subject? that he wouldn’t be campaigning as hard as fucking possible for civil rights? what are the Dixiecrats gonna do with ​Captain America​ saying that the future of this country is desegregation?

let’s go further - Peggy Carter is still involved with SHIELD. Steve knows about HYDRA infiltrating. are you trying to tell me that Team Antifascist is going to withdraw into their own little world and do ​nothing?​ the Howling Commandos are still around; call them up and tell them Bucky’s alive and that he needs their help. boom. no more Winter Soldier.

McCarthy? laughable. Captain Fucking America shows up to the House Un-American Activities Committee and tears into those assholes - “I was a soldier, I fought alongside Soviet forces, I saw what Stalinist Russia was like through their eyes, are you really trying to tell me that what we’ve got here is the same thing?”. name a social issue. gay rights? equal pay? feminism? guess who shows up at the marches and the protests? we must not be thinking of the same Steve Rogers if you’re imagining that he went back in time to just let history unfold as it already had.

if I went forward in time to the 2090s and I saw that they were still dealing with the same fucking bullshit that we were dealing with today, and I had the chance to go back and work to make it better for the citizens of an alternate timeline, you bet your ass I’d take it.

complain about ships all you like, but this isn’t out of character. this is “I could make the past better, and get back the life I was stolen from while I’m doing it. time to kick the KKK’s ass.”

[gratissports-blog]

Every thing Regarding NBA From NBA forum - Past of National Basketball Association

  The 1980s observed the game and also the video game of baseball grow termendously as well as a bunch of that involved the rivalry of Magic Johnson and also Larry Bird. The 2 have become the defination of what a rivalry is actually supposed to become and also their teams will control the decade. As a result of this competition a considerable amount of interest grew in the America regarding the NBA and also the 1st primary TELEVISION offers started to be actually authorized as well as yet another wave of growth.

When the 2 leagues combined in 1949 it took the overall amount of groups to 17 but the brand new organization will swiftly start losing staffs. The proprietor of the Fortress Wayne Pistons, a previous NBL group, called Frank Zollner was essential in always keeping the NBA economically afloat in the course of this opportunity.

In the 1960s as the NBA was experiencing a growth eruption through incorporating brand new staffs, a competing springtime up to challenge it in the ABA. When it merged along with the NBA, the ABA will last coming from 1967 till 1976. You can easily look NBA forum for know the more about NBA.

The 1990s viewed the age of Jordan. No person in staff sports has had such an impact that extended out party of the activity. Jordan came to be the NBA and possibly even bigger than the organization. Had it certainly not been for a pair of year retirement life Jordan might possess won much more NBA labels.

Past history Of NBA

The NBA started life as the Basketball Organization of The United States in 1946 and participated in under that monkier for 3 years previously, in 1949, merging along with the National Baseball Game and changing labels to the NBA. The BAA started along with 11 teams in 1946 yet dropped 4 of all of them before the start of the following time. Despite the loss of 4 teams the BAA was actually possessing a bunch of excellence against its own rival the NBL and was actually capable to tempt four of the NBL's premire franchises to participate in the BAA in 1948.

What is actually NBA forum?

The NBA forum are actually community discussion forums for your personal dialogue site where individuals post their ideas as well as information as well as hold discussions. Dialogues for players or even your most up-to-date suit would certainly be actually the most usual form of conversation and betting sub-forums.

Know The All Of Dialogue Coming from NBA forum

The NBA carried on with 8 groups coming from 1955 up until 1961 when the Chicago Packers signed up with the league. The Packers, now the Washington Wizards, are ruled out to be actually the first growth team, that distriction mosts likely to the Chicago Bulls since the Bulls, that took part 1966, possessed a real growth allotment. Coming from 1966 till 2004 the organization viewed a growth upsurge along with a total of 21 teams signing up with the organization. You may acquire a lot of conversation by means of NBA forum.

The NBA has actually always been a game that was controlled through what some chroniclers have actually contacted"teams of the era". From 1948 up until 1954 the Lakers gained 5 NBA champions. Only the 2010s as well as 1970s performed certainly not envision a franchise win at minimum 4 NBA headlines, though the Golden State Warriors got close by gaining 3 labels in the 2010s.

The proprietor of the Fortress Wayne Pistons, a past NBL crew, called Frank Zollner was crucial in keeping the NBA financially afloat in the course of this opportunity.

You can look NBA forum for know the even more concerning NBA.

Record Of NBA

The NBA began life as the Basketball Affiliation of The United States in 1946 and played under that monkier for 3 years before, in 1949, combining with the National Basketball Organization as well as altering titles to the NBA. Know The All Discussion Coming from NBA forum.

The NBA proceeded along with 8 crews from 1955 until 1961 when the Chicago Packers participated in the league. The NBA has always been actually a game that was controlled through what some historians have actually called"staffs of the age".

[sinanmurad]

For even more than 40 years Raffi, the folk singer-turned-rock celebrity to children, has been singing songs to delight the young at heart - CBS Information

He may not look like a rock star, but also for a certain much shorter fanbase, Raffi is simply that. "I'm the lucky person whose tracks apparently delight youngsters," he said.

He's been playing kids's songs for even more than 40 years, has actually been chosen for three Grammy Honors; marketed greater than 15 million documents, and also has the generations of fans to confirm it.

"I suggest, this has simply been remarkable," said one woman. "We increased our children on Raffi. And now we're raising our grandkids on Raffi. We just love it."

Raffi informed contributor Serena Altschul, "The kids are having all kinds of fun, however so are the adults now, 'cause they're remembering their own youths."

Raffi's childhood began in Egypt, where he was birthed Raffi Cavoukian in 1948. In the hope of a far better life, his daddy determined to move his minority Armenian-Christian family out of the nation when Raffi was simply ten years old

"He really felt that intense future had not been feasible staying behind in Egypt," Raffi stated. "He loved his kids, and also he concerned Canada for us to live in a totally free country."

He required to his adopted nation promptly: "Oh my God, I required to ice hockey. I didn't play it, 'cause I was a tubby little Armenian child! I loved the National Hockey Organization games on tv."

But it was the songs he uncovered on the radio that really changed his life: "It was not only Motown, yet it was Pete Seeger and Peter, Paul, and Mary, and also Gordon Lightfoot, Joni Mitchell. Oh, my God!"

A teen in the '60s, he was captured up in the expanding Toronto folk scene, quickly choosing up a guitar himself. "I intended to end up being someone like a James Taylor," he claimed.

He struggled to make ends meet playing songs. Then by coincidence, he was welcomed to bet youngsters at a regional nursery college.

"Yeah, I got on the flooring and also I was singing tunes that my then-wife had actually shown me. Evidently, I did well with the youngsters as well as I was asked to return and sing once again for them.

"As well as the $10 I got assisted in those days!"

His very first album, "Singable Songs for the Really Young," was released in 1976. It was a blockbuster.

It brought about 20 more cds of young child classics, from "The Even More We Obtain Together" to "Bananaphone":

... as well as particularly his most famous song, "Child Beluga":

Baby beluga in the deep blue sea Swim so wild as well as you swim so free Paradise over and also the sea below And also a little white whale on the go

"The song was influenced by a whale in captivity in an aquarium," he stated. "As well as yet, the track established the whale cost-free. And also there's something about, 'Is the water heat? Is your momma home with you?' Now, I do not recognize what a little kid listens to when they hear that, yet there should be something, you precognitive attaching with them."

And also he's still connecting with kids today, by launching new songs and exploring around North America.You can stream Raffi's cd"Pet dog on the Floor"by clicking the installed below (Cost-free Spotify enrollment required to listen to the tracks completely ): Raffi spends his downtime at his home in

the beauty and also privacy of Salt Springtime Island, British Columbia. He first was available in 2008. And you can find him every Saturday at the farmer's market, manning a table for his charitable, the Raffi Structure for Child Honouring, which promotes for placing children's requirements initially when taking on ecological and social problems.But as long as children love Raffi, and also the other way around, he determined not to have youngsters of his very own.

"People are constantly shocked by this, "claimed Altschul." Well, at that time, when my spouse as well as I discussed it, long period of time ago, we were always around children(she was a preschool educator as well as I was entertaining children), we simply really felt that we really did not require kids of our own. And also we determined to recognize that sensation. It was simply that easy. ""And also you have kids-- they're just not biologically your kids. ""Exactly."And also he can count Altschul's own daughter Vivian as one of them! For even more info: Tale created by Amol Mhatre.

This content was originally published here.