#bubel

[machazer]

Piła on tour 🇵🇱🇳🇱

At this weekend I start my holiday in Netherlands. Job and trip 😮‍💨😋🤤🙄🤭

[dampyros]

I‘VE BEEN TRYING TO LAY MY HEAD DOWN, BUT I’M WRITING THIS AT 3 A.M. | anoctivaga

“Morning Nude” by Robert Bubel and Unknown painting by Alexa Taveras, featuring the lyrics for “Francis Forever” by Mitski

[mod-a-day]

Alexis Janson (Tromdage), William Bubel (Inmate2993) "Story" (CV_STORY.MOD, "Choir/Orch Remix") Zeux II: Caverns of Zeux for MegaZeux (1995, 1999) Software Visions

[queersgood]

Robert Bubel (1968- )

[oetscop]

why did my calzone do this ...

[semena--mertvykh]

Café du commerce

Reprendre pied dans le monde du travail, de loin en loin, à l’occasion du stage, c’est un bon moyen de prendre la température de la France comme elle va et de m’enquérir de l’état d’esprit du tout-venant dans ma caste. Intéressant safari exploratoire qui me laisse, d’année en année, plus effarée, au point que je me demande avec une incertitude croissante : mais où étais-je passée tout ce temps ?

J’étais à l’Université, occupée à apprendre, ou sur la route avec les meilleurs musiciens de la planète, ou à lire, ou à produire à mon tour des textes plus ou moins aboutis qui obtenaient plus ou moins l’assentiment de mes chers professeurs. Tentant difficilement de me faire comprendre de mes camarades – silence et solitude sont les deux mamelles de l’adulte en reprise d’études – me sentant bien plus à l’aise avec les enseignantes de mon âge ; sachant bien que leur dignité de professeures leur interdit toutefois de me témoigner davantage qu’une cordialité de circonstances, etc, etc...

Pendant ce temps, presque dans mon dos, mes ex-futurs collègues de l’administration sont devenus de plus en plus grincheux, de plus en plus mécontents de tout et ils ne se privent pas de me faire connaître leur opinion en quarante exemplaires, j’ai plaisir à le dire, même quand je ne leur ai rien demandé. Leur mécontentement est directement proportionnel à leur traitement famélique, l'absence de perspectives et les tentations continuelles de la marchandise qui mettent leurs nerfs à rude épreuve… Voilà ce qu’on gagne à bloquer le point d’indice, à supprimer des postes et à faire travailler dans des conditions de plus en plus dégradées.

Les femmes sont littéralement obsédées par le fait de vieillir ; leur crainte n’est pas celle de la déchéance physique, ou de la perte d’autonomie, mais plutôt la peur d’être moins séduisantes dans le regard des hommes et, en conséquence, de perdre cette minuscule prime de pouvoir que leur jeunesse et leur beauté leur permettent pour l’instant de grappiller. Les lâches. Quand elles en parlent devant moi, je me demande toujours si elles se rendent compte à quel point elles sont grossières, d’évoquer ce vieillissement-là comme une déchéance ; et comment, moi, je suis censée réagir.

Les hommes, quant à eux, sont comme souvent une rencontre du troisième type. Usant de la même rapidité avec laquelle, il y a très longtemps, ils en venaient à me faire des avances – et avec la même désinvolture de ceux qui sont habitués à se servir, ou à se faire servir – ils tiennent des propos tout à fait étranges : la France est en déclin ; on oublie les Français alors qu’on dépense de l’argent pour les migrants ; aujourd’hui on vit dans 1984, c’est la dictature de la pensée organisée par les élites ; ce qu'il faut c'est bloquer le pays ; etc, etc...

Ce sont les deux ou trois arcs de renfort de leur pensée. Ils répètent ces litanies devant moi, ou plutôt à travers moi, et j’ai toujours envie de leur demander où sont placées les caméras. Impression de les entendre pérorer devant l’Éternité comme des invités d’une chaînes d’info en continu.

Et bien sûr, pour les deux sexes, la certitude que les vaccins contre le Covid sont frelatés, nuisibles, une magouille de Big Pharma/du gouvernement/des rosicruciens/du Grand Complot Juif Capitaliste...

Le projet de loi sur les retraites leur fournit, depuis quelques semaines, un motif inépuisable de récriminations, ils s’en régalent comme ils se délectaient de l’affaire Benala, ils mettront sans doute plus de temps à l’oublier.

Toutes ces convictions viennent très vite dans la conversation, elles ont remplacé les traditionnelles formules de politesse.

Je préférais quand ils me parlaient de la pluie et du beau temps.

J’ai l’habitude qu’on déroule le comptoir à chaque pause ragots, c’est même la raison pour laquelle j’ai pris mes distances, progressivement, avec tous ces braves gens, lorsque je travaillais encore avec eux – une prise de distance qu’ils ont d’ailleurs actée avec une hostilité animale, un instinct grégaire hargneux, exactement comme, il y a quelques décennies, ils m’auraient accusée d’être une mauvaise mère et une mauvaise épouse parce que j’aurais eu le front de me mettre au piano.

J’ai appris à vivre avec.

Ce qui me frappe en revanche, aujourd’hui, c’est la rapidité avec laquelle leurs discours deviennent de plus en plus irrationnels et de plus en plus autistes. Auparavant, il me semble qu’il restait encore un espace pour discuter, même si c’était pour ne pas être d’accord. Aujourd’hui, je n’entends même plus ce jeu dans nos échanges. Tout est verrouillé dans leur tête, tout bien calé pour qu’il n’y ait plus une seule idée qui bouge dans cette congestion. Les vérins bien lestés par les épaisseurs de frustrations empilées et comprimées comme des ballots de linge sur les voitures-chameau de l’A6. Sentant bien, dans le fond, que même leurs boucs émissaires ne sont que des leurres, comme tout le reste ; désespérés de le savoir. Tous prêts à déraper et à s’offrir une belle sortie de route à la moindre flaque d’huile.

Je ne suis pas sûre d'être encore là quand çà arrivera, et çà m'arrange parce que çà va pas être beau à voir.

Le seul avantage que je trouve, maintenant, à leur fréquentation, c’est de me dire que je ne suis peut-être pas si à plaindre que çà, à côté d’eux. Je n’ai aucune illusion sur la manière dont ils me perçoivent, malgré leurs grandes séquences de cirage de pompe – tu as tellement de courage de reprendre les études et de faire des projets (sous-entendu : à ton âge sénile) : comme une fille complètement perchée, un fruit stérile, une naïve qui vit dans sa bulle. Une qui pense pas comme eux, en tout cas, et qui vit comme personne.

Pourtant, je préfère ma folie à leur normalité. J’ai toujours trouvé qu’elle avait quelque chose de monstrueux, leur normalité. C’est d'ailleurs comme çà que je les baptisais, à l’époque où je les écoutais encore : les normopathes.

Mais çà ne m’aide pas à me sentir moins isolée dans leur royaume.

[applesauce42069]

Jewish moms when they find out their child is dating a non-Jewish girl, in TV/film: oy vey! my bubele has been stolen by a shiksa! baruch hashem, his zeyde will weep! I must do whatever it takes to drive this goyishe meydl away!

MY jewish mom when she found out I am dating a non-Jewish girl in real life: ok. is she nice to you?

[sometimesbubble]

bubele yes o .r no🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧

sometimes bubble 4: yes or no

[lizzzzzzzzzzzzzz---lol]

trollex: hey Barb is it okay if I ask something?

Barb: Shure what is it starfish

Trollex: wellllll I was wondering.... how'd you lose your ear?

Barb: *war flash backs* I don't actually remember (is clearly lieing)

Riff: when we were kids Barb fell into the volcano and lava bubeled up and splashed her ear and the doctors had to amputate it

Trollex: ...... And here I was thinking that rock trolls were heat/lava resistant

Riff: we are but we can't go in the lava until we're like 10

Trollex: ah I see

[is-on-its-way]

Love in the dark

Ao3

Mulder and Scully and their 5/6 year old go see the Eclipse lol

Setting: Some dirt road in Maine

Kids name: Luna Lark Mulder Scully... don't @ me I don't know. Or do @ me with a better name suggestion.

note: bubele is pronounced bub-eh-lah (My head canon is Mulder learned some NYC yiddish from his dad's parents.)

❂❂❂

“Quick Lula, we have to hurry! He said unbuckling her from her carseat “Are you ready to run?”

“Yeah!” she squealed as she hopped down from her carseat. He took her tiny hand and helped her step down from the 4 Runner to the gravel dirt road. She lept out and swung from his arm as he said “Woah!” And she squealed in delight.

“Come on you two!” Scully said as she threw a pack over her shoulder from the open window at the back of the car.

She started into the field of lush green grass from the dirt road and looked back at them as they walked towards her. She waited with her hand out for Luna to grab.

They walked her hand in hand, one on either side, lifting her over the hollow where road met pasture. They continued on into the middle of the field surrounded by trees.

Luna looked up at Scully “Can I have the bubbles now, mommy?”

“Yes, my love” Scully said digging in the pack and producing a large pink bottle of bubbles. She unscrewed it partly and handed it to Luna, who took it and started waving it around attempting to make bubbles as she ran.

Mulder looked up at the sun hand over his brow. Then at his watch, “Shouldn’t be long now maybe 10 minutes. We really made it just in time huh?” He smiled down at Scully

She shook her head and said “We made it thats all that matters” she was taking a mustard yellow striped blanket out of the pack and trying to unfurl it on the ground.

“Youre sure this is in the totality zone?” She asked

“Yup, I triple checked before we left this morning and put the coordinates directly into the maps.” Mulder grabbed a side of the blanket and they laid it down. Luna danced around happily singing

“It's a perfectly beautiful day for playing A perfectly beautiful day for staying outside It's a perfectly beautiful day…”

Scully looked at her, hands on her hips with a look of complete devotion and affection.

Mulder looked at Scully watching their baby girl with the same exact expression on his face.

She felt his gaze and looked at him “You’re the one who said no shows past 2001.”

“Mr. Rogers is a classic, Scully. Much better than the swill they call children’s programming nowadays.”

“Uh huh.” She said skeptically, tucking her chin, looking up at him, hands on her hips.

He went to her and swept her up in his arms and kissed her. She was irresistible when she was annoyed.

She exhaled an “Oh” and melted into him, opening her mouth for him.

They broke apart and Scully put a hand to his cheek as she turned to keep watching Luna from his arms.

“Lets get the food.” He said giving her temple a kiss.

They sat on the blanket and Mulder took a bottle of sparkling wine, tupperwares of crackers, cheese, and sliced apples pears and raspberries out.

Scully took the cover off the fruit and took one before calling Luna over.

“Luna Lark! Come get a snack before it gets dark!”

“Hey a rhyme!” Mulder exclaimed, as Scully smiled.

She galloped over and accepted a slice of apple. She stood with apple in one hand and the bubbles in the other “Its gonna be nighttime?”

“Yes, the sun will be blotted out forever” Mulder said

Scully hit him in the shoulder “Mulderrr!” She tried not to smile as she took the bubbles from Luna, “Poppa’s teasing you my love. You know how we can see the moon in the daytime sometimes?”

She nodded, looking worried.

“Well this time well be able to see the moon directly in front of the sun.”

She looked confused, Mulder added. “The sun will hide behind the moon and it’ll get dark but then the moon will keep moving like it always does, and the sun will come back out.”

She pondered this and said “Not forever?”

“No, not forever.” Scully shook her head.

Content with this she walked onto the blanket and settled between them, munching her apple.

Mulder handed her a raspberry, then a cracker. “Do you want cheese?”

She nodded. He added a piece of yellow cheese to the cracker and she bit into it.

Scully fished out a small metal water bottle covered in dinosaurs floating around space. She flipped the straw up and handed it to Luna, who took a long drink. Scully pushed her wild sun bleached brown hair behind her ear.

Mulder handed Scully a metal cup of the bubbly wine, she took it and they clinked their cups together. “Thank you” she said.

The daylight dimmed to paint the meadow in an amber light. Luna looked up at the sun.

Scully reached to cover her eyes and said “Don’t look at the sun without your sunglasses.”

Mulder dug in his pocket and produced paper glasses that looked like 3d movie glasses, but instead of red and blue they had dark black lenses. He put them on Luna and tucked them behind her ears as she scrunched her nose. “There you go”

“Its all dark!” She said reaching a hand out in front of her

Scully giggled as she took the pair Mulder handed her. “Look up at the sun, can you see the moon yet?”

“No” Luna said sounding bored

“I can” Mulder said just on this side of it. He taped Lunas right shoulder.

They all watched as the moon slowly made its way across the sun. Luna exclaiming when she finally saw the crescent shape carved out of the sun.

Can I lay down? Im tired of looking up” Luna said with a sigh.

Mulder chuckled “Good idea Lula.” He moved the food down the blanket and laid down as Luna snuggled into him, head on his outstretched arm. Scully looked down at them with a smile and pulled Lunas hand to her mouth to give her tiny fingers a kiss. She joined them laying back on the blanket putting he cheek against Lunas chubby arm. Mulder found her hand and entwined his fingers in hers, as they all watched the crescent get smaller and smaller through their glasses.

When the moon had crossed completely over the sun and the last glare of sunlight had disappeared behind the moon, Mulder announced “We can take our glasses off.”

Scully sat up and said “Listen Lou”

Luna fell silent and Mulder sat up. “Crickets. They think its night”

He took the glasses off and muttered “Good night” under his breath. “This is so weird” they were in complete darkness. And when they looked up at where the sun should be, they saw only a halo of soft light.

“Im scared Mommy” Luna said reaching for Scully.

“Its okay my love.” Scully said taking her into her lap and hugging her tightly to her, kissing the top of her head.

Mulder said, “Its just nighttime Lula. It will pass in a minute. Do you want me to tell you a story until it gets light again?”

She nodded in Scully arms and Scully said “She does”

“Tell me about auntie Sam in the stars”

“Oh, okay.”

Scully found his hand on the blanket.

“My sister Sam, your aunt, was the funniest and smartest kid my parents had. She was witty and sweet and she loved to bike around our town with me. And we would get ice cream every day after I picked her up from her dance classes. And she’d throw baseballs for me to hit when none of my friends could play. And sometimes our mother would make us go hunt for dinner.

Luna giggled, a wild giggle that reminded him of Scully’s laugh. She always giggled at the thought of her dad as a kid hunting for his own dinner.

“So we’d go clamming and raking for mussels on the beach. And our mom would make a big pot of pasta with butter.”

“Yuummm” She said “and then she went to live in the stars?”

“She did. She went to live in the stars.”

“And if you look up and see a twinkling star thats auntie Sam saying hi.” Scully said

She’s up there looking down on us now, during the daytime, can you believe it?” Mulder asked “Look up find her Luna!”

She looked up with a great big smile on her face, and then pointed with a tiny finger "I see her!"

"You do?!" Mulder said grabbing her hand and miming eating it.

Luna giggled and squirmed in Scully arms. 

They watched the sky for a while before Luna said

 “She's with aunty Missy.”

“Yes bubele, with Aunty Missy” He said softly.

“Will I go live with them?”

“What do you mean baby?” Scully asked her.

“Sometimes I go up there too.”

Mulder felt Scully’s fear in the darkness.

“No bubele you’re not going to go live with them, because you live with us.”

“Okay” she said in a small voice.

“But uh, next time you see Sam, tell her I say hi, okay?”

“Okay poppa” She said.

Mulder wrapped his arm around Scully and kissed her hair.

“We’ve got extraordinary kids huh” he whispered into her ear.

She leaned into his shoulder and sighed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

"My one in seven point nine billion." he said as he leaned down to kiss her lips with a smile.

@today-in-fic

[allergictocolor]

Character Profile - Morticia Addams

“The real head of the house and moving force behind it. Low-voiced, incisive, and subtle; smiles are rare. This ruined beauty has a romantic side, too, and is given to low-keyed rhapsodies about her garden of deadly nightshade, henbane and dwarf’s hair. Generally indulgent [of] the often sinister activities of the children, but feels that Uncle Fester has to be held in check. Her costume is always the same - the form-fitting black gown, tattered or cut to ribbons at the elbows and feet. Occasionally, she will wear a shawl. Her voice is never raised, but has great range. Contemptuous and original and with a fierce family loyalty. She never uses a cliché except to be funny. She is a thoughtful hostess in her way and, if a guest needs anything, he is advised to scream for it. The children are instructed to observe the amenities and always kick Daddy good night.” - Chas Addams

Charles Addams claimed to have thought up her name while leafing through the yellow pages in a phone book (they used to deliver books full of local phone numbers to our houses!) when he stumbled upon the listings for Morticians. People speculated as to whether she was based on any of his three wives, but he denied that vehemently. He just happened to love thin, pale women with dark hair, and managed to marry the woman of his dreams three times. Though he did marry his third wife in an Addams family-themed wedding in a pet cemetery, so make of that what you will.

Carolyn Jones was cast in the 1964 TV series, despite not being taller than their Gomez, John Astin. He wasn’t a tall man by any account, so I’m assuming she was the best Morticia in the auditions and had the best chemistry with their leading man. Their chemistry on screen was excellent, but also the right amount of comical. While Gomez was frequently overcome with passion whenever Morticia spoke French, or any other foreign language, Morticia often brushed him off. There were other things to do. They could get carried away later.

She called him “Querido”, “Mon Cherie”, and “Bubele”, a yiddish nickname that wasn’t continued with subsequent Morticias. The show established that Morticia held Gomez in the palm of her hand (left, below). Unfortunately, both because it was a sitcom and because it was the 1960s, there had to be hilarious misunderstandings that undercut her power over him somewhat. In more than one episode, she was given reason to doubt that Gomez really loved her, and was driven into the trope of the worried housewife, fretting over what to do. It always worked out in the end, of course. Sitcoms always do.

The TV show is where Morticia started the habit of cutting the heads off of roses, making bouquets of only the stems (right, above). She spent a lot of time tending her various plants. She had an African strangler named Cleopatra, which continued in other incarnations later on. In the show, she fed it “hamburger meat”. On camera, it looked like meatballs or very small burgers. It threatened to eat a few people, but Morticia assured them that humans gave Cleopatra heartburn.

1960s Morticia indulged in painting more than later versions of her. They didn’t always show what she was painting, but often showed her behind an easel, working on something. When they did show the painting, it was something unusual. More frequently, they simply said what she was painting.

She was also seen knitting frequently. Sometimes she would be knitting a scarf that was well over 20 feet long, looping around the living room furniture. Other times, it would be a sweater with a very long neck or extra limbs, likely a reference to the comic below, which was also referenced in the 1993 movie Addams Family Values.

While her mother, Hester Frump, was played by Margaret Hamilton (the wicked witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz), and Morticia herself was described as a witch in the series, the witchcraft was mostly implied. She was shown “smoking”, producing smoke by simply crossing her arms and concentrating, but she didn’t tell fortunes or mix potions like her mother-in-law Grandmama Addams does. Once they got to 1991, Anjelica Huston’s Morticia stated that she was a witch, and that in school she majored in “spells and hexes”.

Huston’s Morticia is level-headed and fully assured of herself. When things go badly for the family, she’s the one who holds everything together. Like her co-star Raul Julia, she is my generation’s gold standard for the character.

I think Morticia takes a little step backwards in the musical, suddenly being unsure of herself because she’s showing a few wrinkles. Bebe Neuwirth was amazing on Broadway, but Gomez would never be bothered by his wife showing her age. He loves everything, and he loves his wife even more. She should know that.

The 2019 animated version of Morticia is wickedly wonderful. Here, she does show some kind of magical powers, unless producing thousands of spiders to make a walkable bridge is just gross and not actually magical. She also talks to her deceased parents on a crystal ball, a form of communication repeated in the 2022 Netflix series.

In the Netflix series, Catherine Zeta-Jones�� Morticia is a side character so far, so we only see her in a few episodes. We know she has psychic visions that are positive, the polar opposite of her pessimistic daughter, but we haven’t seen any of her visions. She’s also madly in love with Gomez and as easily carried away as he is, which is a problem for their embarrassed children. We’ve been told we’ll get a better look into Wednesday’s home life in season 2, so it’s likely there will be even more of Morticia there. Maybe we’ll even see Cleopatra!

[pinkbiossom-blossom2012]

Does boomer and bubels and butch and buttercup like eachother ;)

You can see it from the comics :)

Or you will know if you have watched the anime and manga of Propimol :)

[mod-a-day]

Alexis Janson (Tromdage), William Bubel (Inmate2993) "Tech" (CV_TECH.MOD), ("Caverns][Tech" Remix) Zeux II: Caverns of Zeux for MegaZeux (1995, ????) Software Visions

[sentientsky]

my brain: i’m tired we should go to sleep

me, climbing into bed: excellent idea

my brain: actually i changed my mind can you go get bubble tea now please i thought about it and now i want it so so so so bad. bubel tea <3 yay

[trostloski]

i went to the doktor today. he made me sit on a couch with very soft pillows.

he smokes a lot, the smoke comforts me (it reminds me of esther's flat). he also asked me questions about my mother. i think i am scared. but esther said i was a courageous bubele today

this is him

he prescribed me cocaine, but i declined, esther says i will become crazy if i start taking it

[sleepyoctoboi]

Caine and Bubel