#cornucopia salad

[fionacaroline]

Cornucopia Salad Red leaf lettuce, candied almonds, dried cranberries, chopped apples, avocado, and blue cheese are combined in a special salad with a light and tangy dressing. 1/4 cup sliced almonds, 1/2 cup dried cranberries, salt and pepper to taste, 3 green onions chopped, 1 head red leaf lettuce torn, 1 Granny Smith apple cored and chopped, 1 tablespoon white sugar, 1 avocado - peeled pitted and chopped, 1/4 cup vegetable oil, 1/4 cup crumbled blue cheese, 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar, 2 teaspoons white sugar

[kingofbodyrolls]

Sprout (m) | knj | chapter 1

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate. 

→ Pairing: Namjoon x reader (female) → AUs: neighbors!au, gardening!au, non!idol!au  → Genre(s): slice of life, smut and comedy → Trope(s): strangers to neighbors to enemies (mostly one sides) to friends to ??? → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 3.7k → Warnings + triggers: reader is morally grey; she’s being petty and bratty. There’s some immature pranks and vandalism. Yeah, she’s on a warpath. Otherwise this chapter is pretty tame 😛 → Author’s note: this ended up being a mini series! After I wrote Friendcation I really wanted to write something shorter… So here it is! I really hope you like it 💜 → Read on AO3? [link]

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Your heart thrives in the lush embrace of your garden, where your love for nurturing life transcends the ordinary. 

It's not merely about gardening; it's an intimate rendezvous with nature's heartbeat. The simple act of plunging your hands into the soil becomes a euphoric ritual, a tactile communion that not only exhilarates your senses but also serves as a conduit to a world where each seed, leaf, and root tells a captivating story of growth and vitality. 

The intimate dance with the earth, the sheer joy that courses through you as you feel the soil's gritty embrace, transcends mere gardening; it's a symphony of life, a celebration of your role as both creator and nurturer.

Cultivating new life from the humble seed is a profound joy that resonates deeply within you. The enchantment unfolds as you witness the delicate emergence of sprouts, each one a testament to the potential contained within a tiny seed. 

It's a captivating journey, from the tentative first leaves unfurling to the triumphant bloom of fruits and vegetables, a tangible manifestation of the joy and sustenance your hands have meticulously cultivated for both you and your roommate to savor.

As the radiant embrace of summer envelops your world, an effusion of life bursts forth, a vibrant bloom unfurling its tendrils both in your garden and within the sanctuary of your greenhouse.

The greenhouse burgeons with a dazzling array of life—a cornucopia of tomatoes, watermelons, peppers, and cucumbers that stretches every inch of its confines. The air is thick with the heady scent of ripening fruit, and the vibrant hues of red, green, and orange create a kaleidoscopic mosaic that beckons exploration.

In your garden, three majestic raised beds stand like regal sentinels, cradling a treasure trove of nature's bounty. Within their elevated embrace, a symphony of flavors and colors converges, boasting a diverse ensemble that includes the earthy allure of onions, the crisp sweetness of carrots, the robust presence of pumpkins, the delicate charm of strawberries, the verdant allure of spinach, and an array of captivating salads. 

Each bed is a symphony of flavors and textures, a carefully orchestrated composition that invites both the eye and the palate to revel in the diverse tapestry of life thriving under your attentive care.

Your garden isn't just a source of pride; it's a living masterpiece, a testament to your dedication and nurturing touch. This verdant haven, bathed in the hues of your hard work, transcends mere admiration; it's your sanctuary, a sacred retreat where the stresses of the world dissolve. 

Each leaf, every bloom, whispers tales of resilience and growth, creating an intimate haven where you find solace and restoration.

In the embrace of nature's symphony, your garden becomes more than soil and seeds—it's a living, breathing refuge, a space where you not only cultivate plants but also cultivate peace and tranquility for your soul to flourish.

Within the heart of your greenhouse, nestled amidst the thriving foliage, is a cozy sanctuary—an inviting lounge set with a round table and two chairs. This intimate corner is not just a seating arrangement; it's a haven where friendship blossoms. Here, you and your friends can unwind, enveloped by the lush greenery, engaging in heartfelt conversations over steaming cups of tea or coffee. 

In the heart of your greenhouse, you stand amidst the verdant symphony, hands adorned with the earth's rich embrace—fertile soil clinging to your fingertips, a testament to the alchemy of growth you orchestrate. Here, amidst the fragrant dance of botanical life, you sow the promise of winter greenery. This isn't your inaugural venture into nurturing winter blooms; it's a sequel to a tale that unfolded with delight last year. 

The memory of vibrant winter greens thriving under your care lingers, a testament to the harmony you crafted within these walls. Driven by the echo of past success and an insatiable love for the seasonal metamorphosis, you embark on this green journey once more.

Within the expansive embrace of your bountiful garden, nature's generosity unfolds, providing an abundant harvest of fruits and vegetables that not only sustains you and your roommate but also extends its benevolent reach to your cherished neighbors.

Which makes you think of the dear Kims—Kim Seokjin and his wife—embarking on a journey to a larger home, carving out space for their expanding family, tugs at the strings of your heart. While you understand the practicality of their move, a somber melancholy settles within you, for they have not just been neighbors; they have been the epitome of kindness and warmth. 

With an earnest yearning, you cling to the hope that your incoming neighbor will show kindness, sweetness, and warmth akin to the cherished friendship you shared with the departing Kims.

He doesn’t.

The day has arrived when your neighbor, Seokjin, faces the bittersweet necessity of moving. The street is lined with colossal trucks, a tangible representation of the imminent change. As tears trace their silent path down your cheeks, you refuse to let the sorrow eclipse the spirit of friendship. 

Despite the weight of emotions, you join forces with Jungkook, your steadfast roommate, to transform the process into a collective effort. Together, you navigate the labyrinth of memories, carrying not just boxes but the shared history of laughter, shared moments, and the neighborly bonds that have woven through the fabric of your days. 

As the reality of parting sets in, the ache of missing Seokjin and his pregnant wife becomes a weight on your heart. Determined to express the depth of your sentiment, you envelop them in tight, lingering hugs, the warmth of your embrace carrying unspoken words of friendship and well-wishes. Amidst the bittersweet farewells, you articulate your genuine hopes for their future, weaving a promise of staying connected. With each heartfelt word, you convey that the physical distance won't sever the ties of friendship.

In a world where genuine connections with neighbors are as rare as finding hidden gems, you've recognized the preciousness of Seokjin and his wife. Their sweetness and kindness have forged a bond that transcends the typical neighborly exchanges. Their generosity extends beyond mere pleasantries—during a challenging chapter in your life, when the looming shadows of unemployment threatened your stability, it was their unwavering support that illuminated your path. 

Together, you navigated the uncertainty, and Seokjin suggested his friend Jungkook as a roommate to help you financially, and Jungkook has since become an integral part of your life as a steadfast and cherished roommate.

Undoubtedly, the Kims have not just been neighbors but pillars of unwavering support and kindness, surpassing any expectations one might have for ideal neighbors. 

In the wake of the Kims' departure, their once-vibrant house now stands silent, a poignant reminder of the cherished moments shared. However, your curiosity, like an invisible magnet, draws you to the window. From your vantage point, you observe with a mix of intrigue and anticipation as a moving truck sidles up next to their now-empty abode. You almost feel like a creep as you watch them unload furniture and boxes.

Whispers in the neighborhood had reached your ears—an intriguing coincidence as a man, bearing the surname 'Kim,' was poised to become your new neighbor. The town's gossip mill hummed with speculation, but you tuned out the rest, your focus fixated on the serendipitous arrival of this mysterious Kim.

Jungkook ambles over, his sudden presence jolting you against the window, prompting an involuntary jump. With a teasing grin, he questions your clandestine observation, his laughter echoing through the room. “Why are you lurking?” he jests, enjoying the playful spectacle of your eye roll in response. 

“I’m observing.” You declare with matter-of-fact precision, and in response, Jungkook simply offers a contemplative ‘hm.’

Throughout the day, the elusive presence of the new neighbor has been a captivating enigma, a puzzle you've been diligently attempting to unravel. Despite your earnest efforts, the quest for a mere glimpse has proven elusive.

“I'm just curious to get a read on the new guy,” you confess, drawing out your words with a touch of playful mystery. As you gracefully step away from the window, the allure of the unknown lingering in the air, you head into the kitchen with purpose.

You fetch the kettle and begin to boil some water for tea.

“Just give the guy some space to settle in, and when the time is right, you can whip up those mouthwatering cookies of yours and give him a warm welcome to the neighborhood,” Jungkook suggests, trailing after you into the kitchen. He deftly retrieves two mugs from the overhead cabinets, placing them in anticipation of the soon-to-be-boiling kettle.

Rummaging through the tea stash, you unearth aromatic sachets—one for yourself and another for Jungkook—and delicately place them into the waiting mugs. As the kettle sings its final crescendo, you pour the steaming water into the mugs, initiating the alchemical process that transforms the humble leaves into an elixir of warmth.

The synchronicity between you and Jungkook is seamless, a finely tuned rhythm born out of the years you've spent living together. Perhaps it's the invisible thread of familiarity that binds you, a connection so deep that you can effortlessly complete each other's sentences, the unspoken language of friendship. He’s much more than a roommate; you love him like a brother, an annoying little brother, even though you’re the same age.

“Good idea! The legendary triple chocolate cookies?” you propose, your eyes lighting up with the prospect of sweet indulgence. Holding your tea mug, you savor the warmth of the liquid against your lips, a comforting ritual that transcends seasons—you're an unapologetic tea enthusiast, even in the heat of summer. 

“Absolutely! Hell yeah!” Jungkook exclaims, his enthusiasm echoing through the room like a burst of unbridled joy. As he eagerly recalls the memory of the last batch you made, his words become a vivid homage to the culinary masterpiece, the taste still lingering on his tongue like a cherished melody. 

Throughout the entire weekend, the symphony of your new neighbor's move has reverberated, a lively crescendo of sound that paints the air with the vibrant hues of laughter and camaraderie. His entourage of friends, a boisterous ensemble, fills the atmosphere with the clatter of unloading boxes and the rhythmic shuffle of furniture being transported from the truck. 

Yet, despite the lively spectacle of your new neighbor's move, his actual presence remains an elusive mystery. The air is thick with anticipation as questions swirl within your mind: Is he old? Is he your age? Does he possess the warmth and kindness that endeared Seokjin and his wife to your heart? Your curiosity becomes a cascade of inquiries, a mental carousel that you acknowledge is just you being noisy.

Up to this point, the sole revelation about your new neighbor is his knack for creating quite the noise. The symphony of sounds, though vibrant in its own way, becomes a stark contrast to the familiar warmth and silence that once emanated from Seokjin and his wife's abode. 

Damn you miss Seokjin and his wife.

While the awareness of ongoing move-in activities tempers your expectations for noise, an unexplainable discomfort begins to settle in. The amalgamation of unfamiliar sounds, even in the midst of anticipated relocation clamor, manages to irk you. 

And you haven’t even met the guy yet.

Several days have elapsed, it appeared that your new neighbor had completed the arduous task of settling in. A glimmer of hope fluttered, suggesting that the relentless clamor would finally recede. Yet, to your dismay, a new auditory storm emerged—his penchant for playing music at an astonishing volume became the unforeseen soundtrack to your days. 

“I already hate him, Guk,” you declare with a melodramatic sulk, dramatically flopping down onto the couch beside Jungkook.

He swivels his head in your direction, a mischievous smile playing on his lips before erupting into a hearty laugh. “Come on, it’s just music. How bad can it get?”

After a patient wait, the oven radiates a palpable heat, reaching the optimal temperature to host the transformation of dough into decadence. With a sense of anticipation, you carefully place the trays laden with the promise of triple chocolate cookies into the fiery embrace of the oven. 

Despite the less-than-ideal introduction to your new neighbor, marred by his thunderous music and a symphony of questionable sounds that you'd rather not contemplate—, there's a resolute yearning within you to extend an olive branch. 

Fueled by the desire for neighborly harmony, you're determined to overcome the initial discord and approach him with a peace offering, a genuine gesture to welcome him into the neighborhood, hoping to mend the dissonant notes that currently define your thoughts about him.

Just as the first tray of cookies begins its enchanting transformation in the oven, your ‘girl boss’ playlist providing a lively backdrop, the symphony is abruptly punctuated by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass echoing from outside. 

A sudden chill races down your spine, the shivers intensified by the ominous realization that the shattering sound emanates from the vicinity of your garden. Locking eyes with Jungkook, a silent exchange of concern, you swiftly transition from baking bliss to a sprinting guardian of your sanctuary. 

The urgency in your steps amplifies the suspense, as you dash outside, propelled by a blend of curiosity and trepidation, determined to unveil the source of the disruptive crash that disrupted the tranquil rhythm of your day.

Shards of glass glisten like misplaced stars in the grass, guiding your gaze to a seemingly innocent purple ball. However, your eyes transform into metaphorical daggers as they lock onto the source of the havoc, revealing a telltale hole in the once-pristine surface of your beloved greenhouse. 

A surge of anger courses through your veins, a visceral reaction to the shattered tranquility mirrored in the glass strewn across the grass. While distant voices from your neighbor try to penetrate your consciousness, your focus remains ensnared by the chaos within the greenhouse—the fractured plants and the disarrayed remnants of what was once a sanctuary. 

Navigating the shards with cautious steps, you venture into the greenhouse, the air heavy with a sense of apprehension and loss. As you survey the wreckage, the toll becomes painfully clear—fragments of tomatoes, cucumbers, and watermelons lay strewn, their promise of abundance now reduced to a heartbreaking scene of destruction.

An inferno of rage surges through your veins, akin to liquid fire or molten lava, an elemental force consuming reason and calm. The greenhouse, once a sanctuary, now stands as a testament to the havoc wrought—its structural integrity compromised, and the once-vibrant plants broken and battered. 

Your gaze fixes on the offending purple ball, and in a sudden revelation, the realization lands like a forceful blow—it's a sinister gift from your new neighbor. A surge of fury engulfs you, a tempest that ignites within, transforming your blood into a boiling cauldron of rage until the world before your eyes is tainted with a visceral shade of red. 

Driven by an uncontrollable wave of anger, you storm outside, seizing the ominous purple ball with a fierce determination. Each step to your new neighbor is punctuated by the rhythmic thud of your stampede, a declaration of intent that resonates with your frustration.

Amidst the clash of emotions, a figure emerges—a man with disheveled silver hair hurtling toward you, hands raised in a gesture of surrender, a young child at his side. 

The ball gripped tightly in your hand becomes both a weapon and a question mark as you confront the silver-haired man. The fury in your voice is palpable, a tempest churning within each word as you demand answers. “What is this?” you seethe, elevating the purple sphere as a visual indictment, challenging him to reckon with the consequences of his actions. 

“A ball?” he responds with a nervous chuckle, his hand seeking solace through the disheveled landscape of silver hair at the back of his head. Beside him, a little boy, no older than six, clings to his leg with a grip that speaks of both innocence and trepidation. 

“You think you’re smart, huh?” you begin, the words laden with a potent mix of frustration and mounting anger. The simmering emotions rise like a tide within you, unleashing a renewed flood of resentment that threatens to engulf your entire being.

“I'm so sorry about the ball. We didn't mean to throw it over the fence—” the man starts to apologize, but your tolerance for explanations dwindles to nothing. You cut him off with an air of absolute dismissal, leaving no room for excuses or justifications.

“You shattered my greenhouse!” you roar in frustration, the anger propelling the ball from your hand towards him. In a deft move, he catches it effortlessly against his chest, the tension in the air palpable.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mea—” he begins, but you cut through his attempt to explain with a dismissive wave.

“I don't care! You should be mindful of other people's property. I had plants in there that are now broken and useless,” you declare, your voice stern and scolding. The words emerge like a verbal reprimand, each syllable charged with the weight of your anger. As you speak, the intensity manifests physically, your breaths becoming huffs of air, mirroring the turbulent emotions that still churn within you. 

You observe the man's persistent attempts at apology, and the child clings even tighter to his sturdy thigh, as if seeking refuge in the face of the storm brewing in front of him.

“Fuck you. Don't let it happen again,” you spit, the words laden with an unrelenting edge. You observe him swiftly cover the child's ears, shielding innocence from the raw exchange. Just as you pivot to leave, a tense silence lingering, he finds his voice once more. 

Observing him withdraw his hands from the child's ears, he takes a measured step in your direction. “Look, lady,” he begins, his tone a blend of frustration and assertion, “I already apologized. There's no reason to be so crude, especially not in front of a kid.”

Your gaze swiftly traverses them from head to toe, a brusque assessment. “Like I give a shit,” you retort with a dismissive snort.

“Joon, why is the lady mad?” inquires the boy, casting a curious glance at your neighbor. 

“Well, we ruined her greenhouse, which we've already apologized for. Now I'm starting to think she's just stuck up and has a stick up her ass,” your neighbor explains in a composed tone to the child, who simply gapes at the blunt choice of words.

The audacity of his words hits you like an unexpected blow. Stuck up? The incredulity courses through you as you grapple with the absurdity of the accusation. Him, the one who shattered your pride and joy, casting you as the haughty one?

“Well, fuck you!” you scream in frustration, punctuating the sentiment with a defiant middle finger. With a final act of rebellion, you storm away, retreating back into your house, your fury a palpable force propelling your every step. 

Gasping for breath, you stumble inside, a disheveled embodiment of raw emotion. Jungkook gazes at you, confusion etched on his face as he questions, “What happened?”

In a huff, you explain, “Piece of shit neighbor broke my greenhouse,” the words tumble out, each syllable a testament to the frustration gripping you. With a perfunctory motion, you snatch the tray from Jungkook, who had kindly retrieved it from the oven when the cookies were ready. 

Now, the sweet aroma of accomplishment is tainted, and the once-desired treats feel like a bitter offering. You contemplate discarding them, convinced your neighbor doesn't deserve the indulgence born from your hard work and nurturing care.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook queries with genuine concern, his worry palpable in the furrow of his brows and the earnest tone of his voice. Clutching the tray, you navigate towards the trash can, your actions leaving an air of uncertainty hanging between you two.

“Throwing them out?” you retort, the words a sharp echo in the air as you lock eyes with Jungkook. 

“Don't! I'll eat them,” Jungkook pleads, motioning for you to spare the tray from its impending fate in the trash. 

A flicker of reluctance dances in your eyes, but the prospect of salvaging the cookies prevails. After all, it would be a shame to let them go to waste merely because your neighbor is a piece of shit

Despite Jungkook's plea for you to set aside your fury and accept the apology from your new neighbor, the ember of resentment within you refuses to be extinguished. 

For reasons unknown, a bitter taste lingers within you, refusing to let go. The turmoil is inexplicable, but the remnants of resentment persist. He didn't just break your greenhouse; he shattered a piece of your sanctuary. Now, held together with a temporary tapestry of plastic, the wounded structure serves as a constant reminder, a tangible testament to the disruption that's not easily brushed aside.

Not to mention the plants that withered away that fateful day. Yes, they perished under the weight of the intrusion, and no, you refuse to consider it as mere drama, as Jungkook suggested. 

Anger bubbles within you, a volatile force demanding retribution. In the crucible of resentment, a calculated decision takes root: to do the only thing that feels just—sabotage some of his. An eye for an eye, the ancient adage whispers in your mind.

Thus, you find yourself meticulously gluing his mailbox together, rendering it an inoperable shell that denies him the simple act of receiving mail or opening the damn thing! 

A sense of self-satisfaction courses through you as you observe him from the vantage point of your living room window, wrestling with his unyielding mailbox, frustration etched across his face. 

A laugh of vindication escapes your lips as you revel in his futile struggle. His bewildered gaze sweeps the surroundings, a clear sign that he fails to comprehend what's wrong with his once-functional mailbox. Frustration etches lines on his face before he concedes, retreating back into the confines of his home. 

Jungkook sidles up next to you, a quizzical expression on his face. “Is that your handiwork?” he inquires, pointing towards your neighbor's now dysfunctional mailbox. 

A chuckle escapes your lips, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Yeah.”

“You're being childish and mean,” he reproaches, shaking his head in disapproval of your actions. A chuckle escapes him, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I bet you like him,” he remarks with a knowing smile, strolling past you. 

You gape at him, disbelief etched across your face. No. No such thing. “I fucking hate him, and he deserves it,” you retort vehemently, the raw intensity in your voice emphasizing the depth of your disdain. 

→ Requested taglist: @svnbangtansworld

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94 @parkitrighthere

→ Author’s endnote: Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

[catpatcha]

Please please please please I beg of u to make more college student!Konig it's so good, never had I related more to a story with the way u wrote about his thighs spilling over the seats and making sure to sit in the back as a curtesy to other it's so good🙏🙏🙏🙏

Let me tell yall this was asked an eternity ago sorry guys

basing this off my college but I KNOW the gym hates to see him coming. He maxes out all the machines, has got to have snapped one of those metal wires once. If he's doing cardio you can hear him from the weight room HUFFING because this man is too big and too heavy for all that.

However, he is respectful; good spotter, wipes EVERYTHING down.

The dining hall. he's tearing it up there. Walk past his table and it's a day's three meals put into lunch. He usually packs his own, and it's in some cutesy, popping and locking plastic container, but sometimes he'll treat himself. He hits up every kiosk-- the salad bar, ALL the grills, snagging a piece of cake as well. He'll sit down after like thirty minutes of perusing with a tray looking like a multicultural cornucopia.

He doesn't attend on-campus events usually. He finds it awkward, being around so much kids, and he finds a lot of them kind of stupid.

Free stuff, though, he's in. He has like, 40 pens in his bag from all these organizations and stuff, most of them are cheap and already out of ink. He could make a whole mattress out of all the foam he has from stress balls.

No one talks to him much, though, anyways. Who would willingly approach the gluttonous giant, who has most certainly killed people, likely with the same hands he writes his notes with?

[krirebr]

A Cornucopia for You!

Curtis Everett; Secret dating, hurt/comfort; omegaverse; angst

If it were a normal day at the country club, you would’ve been sitting by the pool, a drink in hand, just soaking up the sun. The image of bliss, pleasure, with an air around you that sat somewhere around carefree, but those feelings were long gone.

Instead, you sat against the cold tile wall in one of the private showers, your knees tucked up to your chest, as you tried your best to let the running water mask your sniffles.

Three months ago, you had met Curtis, one of the new valets working at the club to make a little extra money as he finished up trade school. He was kind, intelligent, but also so much more. An alpha, but one with low status that your parents would never stand for.

Over time, polite smiles and thank yous became small conversations, lingering touches, long walks back to your car. You were slowly falling in love with him- no. More than falling. It had already happened, but it came crashing down with the return of your parents from their long vacation.

They had met you at the club for lunch, your mother already on her third mimosa and your father likely beyond that from their private jet ride home from whatever Mediterranean country they had visited this time. For the last few months you’d been free and you had been hoping that’s the way it would stay. Between her first and second salad course, though, your mother spoke up after sniffing the air.

“Honey, is that a new perfume on you? You know you don’t need that. The right, powerful alpha will be drawn to your natural omega scent. Like your father was to me.”

She smiled at him as he looked off elsewhere, hardly in the conversation besides a one-off slur of, “Yes, an alpha with standing. Very good.”

Your heart was racing because you knew exactly what they were referencing in your scent, and it wasn’t perfume by any means, the low notes of leather still lingering in your nose.

From that point on, you had made sure to shower several times before visits with your parents, hoping the entire situation would leave their minds, until one day, Curtis was called to fill in as one of the servers. You had no idea.

As you were sitting on a chair reading, remaining cordial as you could with your mother, Curtis arrived with a daiquiri for her on his tray. Her nose went off again and she sat up in her chair, lowering her sunglasses. There was nothing scarier when it came to her than silence. Her cutting gaze shifted between the two of you.

“Your father will not be pleased.”

It all happened so quickly. You were chewed out by your parents, the manager was involved, Curtis was fired, and you ran away all in a blur. As you continued to sob into your arms, there was a knock on the shower door, likely one of the waitresses you were friendly with.

“Go away, Monica.”

There was no response except the door opening with a light creak. You could sense him, Curtis. As you finally tore your eyes from their hiding place, you looked up at him and he could see how bloodshot they were. All you could do was profusely apologize.

“Curtis, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do. I knew they’d be upset, but I didn’t think they’d freak out like that. I tried so hard. To keep you away from them, I’ve been showering three times everyday just so that they weren’t suspicious of you, but-but…”

Curtis didn’t bother turning off the shower. He figured the two of you needed all the privacy you could afford after that uncomfortably public blow-up.

Joining you under the water, his hand gently found your cheek and he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. We’ll figure it out. I’m almost done with school. We can go wherever you want, if that’s what you want. I promise to take care of you forever, okay?”

You sniffled again as you scooted in closer to him, letting his warmth and scent calm you. “Okay.”

Oh my god, Essie!! This is just. It's so much! It's so good!!

Poor Curtis! Poor Omega! Run away together and be happy together forever. Never see the parents again! Please!

Seriously, this is exactly what I wanted! It ripped my heart right out in the very best way. 💔😭 I loved it. Thank you!!

[whatmathgodwrought]

Salad Bar Theory of Popular Culture

This is going to be a long post. It will discuss "The Salad Bar Theory of Popular Culture," and why Tumblr dot com is the ideal, overgrown petri dish on the web for this phenomenon.

It's a bit of lark, but I do hope you'll laugh at least once if you read to the end.

Imagine you're dining at an all-you-can-eat restaurant. The restaurant is massive. The self-serve food bar has every kind of dish imaginable, and what's more, there is a construction crew adding more space, and new chefs are constantly adding new entrees, remaking old favorites, and sometimes they even invent new cuisines altogether. All of your friends and acquaintances are there. Sometimes you eat together, sometimes you talk about what you ate, sometimes someone excitedly comes to your table raving and telling you to try something new or an old favorite. There is more than you could ever possibly eat in several lifetimes, and it only keeps growing.

This metaphor is the current state of entertainment in the 21st century for all forms of media: music, movies, books, TV shows, ebooks, audiobooks, podcasts, talk radio, art, comics, graphic novels, manga, webcomics, cartoons, anime, newspapers, infotainment, online journalism, live-streaming, plays/dramas, console gaming, PC gaming, smartphone gaming and more. Thanks to the internet, streaming, global-shipping, viral-meme-culture, commodification-of-the-invidivual-via-the-social-media-grind, (and let's be honest, piracy and archival culture), people have access to and are exposed to more entertainment than they could ever hope to consume in several lifetimes.

So, where does leave the typical diner at this restaurant? Well, as the next paragraphs will show, there is no such thing as a "typical diner." There are no gourmets, no gourmands. There is just the Cornucopia and groups of people wandering the endless salad bar. You can be first in line and pay a premium to experience the brand new dish. You can go back to the same section and reload your plate with the same thing as many times as you want, and people will ask if you don't ever get tired of the same thing. You can be a vegetarian. You can eat only meat. You can eat a bit of everything. You can brave the sneers and jeers of the gatekeepers as you sample something--with tastebuds aglow--for the first time and rave about it to all your friends.

So what kind of dining experiences are there in this cultural canteen, this pop-culture pizzeria, this taverna theatre? What do you see there?

Popularity is the Objective Word Here

When something is popular, it spreads like wildfire. This has always been true of popular culture even before the internet. Humans are social, they tell stories and they share. This may seem obvious, but it's also bedrock for the other observations.

Originality is Dead: Long Live Reboots and Remixes.

Show of hands to three questions:

How many people recognize the reference of a gorilla carrying a woman, climbing the Empire State Building while bi-planes shoot at it?

King Kong right? A cultural icon for many years.

How many people have actually seen the original King Kong (1933) starring Fay Wray and directed by Cooper and Schoedsack?

Not as many right? Maybe you only saw one of the many remakes in 2021, 2017, 2005, 1986, 1976, 1967 or 1962.

How many people are alive today that saw King Kong (1933) in the cinema?

Not many I'll bet.

I'd wager the number of hands goes down with each question. And yet the staying power of the original story remains burned into film history and memory. The point is this. Humans retell stories. This is not a bug. It's a feature. "Tell me the story again of…" There is joy (and profit) in the retelling.

Derivative Reference is Often the Primary Way of Experiencing Pop Culture

OK, so people are sharing things left and right. They're retelling, remixing, rebooting, writing fan-fics, etc. All of this creative effort means that your first-time encountering something new may be a reference, rather than experiencing the original. People rarely experience the true original firsthand anymore. They're going to experience things second-hand.

This is especially true with older media. A first experience with something will often be a derivative reference. An example: Back in the day, in school, we watched Planet of the Apes in class. (I don't know, probably the teacher was hung over.) Want to know how I figured out before the big reveal that the Planet of the Apes was really Earth?

Troy McClure spoiled it for me. In Season 7 Episode 9 of the Simpsons, "A Fish Called Selma," McClure takes an acting gig in a musical adaptation of Planet of the Apes, and he sings the following lines:

Oh my God, I was wrong It was earth all along Yes you finally made a monkey out of me.

So there I am, watching Planet of the Apes for the first time, and Troy McClure's big number starts playing in my head. I sit there in disbelief, remembering the Simpsons, and then practically crying into my desk with laughter.

Probably the teacher thought that "kids these days" don't appreciate cinema, but it was just so absurd to have the movie spoiled by a bit in the Simpsons.

Want to know something else? In doing research for this essay, I discovered that Planet of the Apes film isn't even the original. The original story was a French language novel "La Planète des Singes" by Pierre Boulle. So again, people love retelling, often in different forms of media.

Point is, the longer something has been out, the more it tends to be referenced in other forms. TV talk shows will make jokes referencing the new popular thing. Popular phrases quickly become part of the everyday lexicon. People talk at the water cooler. A tech mogul names their new software after one iconic word in Heinlein's 1961 sci-fi novel.

Any piece of popular culture could be "spoiled" for you at any moment, which brings us to....

Spoilers are Everywhere but Do They Just Act as Adverts?

King Kong dies in the end. Dumbledore Dies. Both of these are spoiler memes (and I'm not sorry), but consider the amount of time passed between the original release of both. How long is the statute of limitations on spoilers? How long before a popular piece of media saturates public awareness so much that it becomes unavoidable? Is this ultimately unavoidable because of the viral nature of advertising, marketing and sharing?

In the modern day, it's increasingly hard to avoid spoilers. I've heard of people going off social media for weeks before a major film release so it doesn't get spoiled for them.

People seem divided on the topic of spoilers, but it's a very good question: Would you still enjoy a story if it was spoiled for you? Shakespeare spoils Romeo & Juliet in the first 14 lines:

Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Do you still want to see the rest of the play? What if it had Leonardo DiCaprio as Romeo, Claire Danes as Juliet and Harold Perrineau as Mercutio? There is something to be said for knowing where the story goes, yet still enjoying the teling of the tale.

I'll go on record and say I don't really care about spoilers. They've become adverts to me, hooks of interest into things I might not have discovered otherwise. I have to encounter new media somehow, and I try to take a positive outlook on it, saying, "I was meant to discover this." If I like something, I'm going to like it unabashedly and still find a way to enjoy it.

Delayed Gratification

If you are PC gamer, let me ask a question: How many unplayed games do you have in your Steam library? Games you haven't even downloaded and opened for the first time. What about unfinished games? Played-once-and-dropped-it games? Now ask yourself: Did you buy this game when it first came out? Did you pay for early access? Would you have still enjoyed it, even if you had to wait a while? Consider the Reddit community r/PatientGamers. They don't care to line up and pay a premium for a brand new release. They know it will still be the same game (often less buggy), and they will even be able to get it on sale. They know the salad bar is vast. There's lots of content, and there's no hurry. They let it come to them when the time is right.

I Don't Want to Hear It

Similar to r/PatientGamers, there is also the phenomona when it seems like everyone is raving about something, to the point where you begin to actively block it out. It doesn't seem to matter what it is; even if it's something good that you would ultimately enjoy. Something about the repetition or the messaging rubs you wrong, and you innoculate yourself against it. You avoid that part of the salad bar at all costs, even if you might like it.

Interpreting the Rules: Remixing as Fan Behavior.

How dooes your social circle play the game Uno? Fandom has a tendency to take what's been created and modify it, remix it according to their own rules, according to fanon's own internal logic. Sometimes it's seen as an act of repair, sometimes a love letter to canon. Sometimes it's shipping characters. Sometimes it is a what-if. What if all these different characters from different properties got together in a story?

Dismay at Media Conglomerate Strip Mining

Has one of the five mega media conglomerates "ruined your childhood" by making a live-adaptation of your favorite childhood cartoon? Well, buckle up, because they aren't going to stop. The big five are hungry for content, and they are actively strip-mining your childhood favorites. It doesn't matter if it's a live action remake of Avatar the Last Airbender or CATS the musical, eventually some studio exec is going to see dollar signs, and your favorite thing is going to get a bad remake. It's best to just accept this.

Further Dismay at AI Strip Mining

If you don't like what the big five are doing, you will hate what AI is doing, and if you're an artist you probably already know you are getting robbed by AI companies. Large language models (also known as Plausible Sentence Generators) and text-to-artwork tools like Stable Diffusion and Midjourney are getting more sophisticated.

They're still scraping the web, and more sites seem to be selling user-generated content to these places, prompting artists to use Glaze and Nightshade to protect their work and poison AI data-models.

People are selling their likeness for permanent use in perpetuity for use in crowds. Lord of the Rings used AI-enabled CGI units in some of the battles, and that was over 20 years ago. How long before they don't hire extras for movies anymore?

The year is 2100. You put on a vid. It is the usual cast, starring: Tu-Pac Shakur's avatar, Hatsune Miku, the latest Disney princess avatar, and the disembodied voice of James Earl Jones. All of the original flesh and blood actors are long dead, but their AI avatars and copyright ramain. Some were never were alive in the first place. It's all necrotainment. You turn off the TV.

Back to the present year, James Earl Jones's voice is now in an AI model, so Disney can give us the same Darth Vader forever. The year 2100 seems not so far away.

On the plus side, there seems to be a growing backlack against AI-generated content. People consider it cheap, shoddily-made and flimsy, and the quickest way to associate a brand as cheap garbage. At the Glasgow Willy Wonka's Chocolate experience event, the organizer used AI generated visuals for the marketing, and people arrived disappointed at the "dirty old warehouse." According to Paul Connell, the actor who played Wonka, the script was "15 pages of AI-generated gibberish."

"I never knew I would have liked this"

OK this is getting a bit grim, so here's something fun: People are getting exposed to other cultures' entertainment, and they like it! Netflix reports that 60% of their users have watched a Korean drama, and they plan to invest USD $2.5 billion in future Korean drama for the platform. Like anime booming outside of Japan in the 80s and 90s, or the British Invasion in the 1960s, people try out other parts of the salad bar, and discover they quite like it.

Archival Behavior

Abraham Lincoln once said, "You can't believe everything you read on the Internet." This is why screencapping and archiving things has become more important. Tweets get deleted, accounts get banned, and users deactivate. Capturing and archiving things here at least preserves some of the conversation.

In the Art of War, Sun Tzu wrote, "If you know yourself and you know your enemy -- and let's be clear the enemy are techbros, who are fundamentally lazy and want to cut corners for the sake of a quick buck and flashy, fake-innovation. Even their own mothers don't love them. They stole this content from Tumblr username whatmathgodwrought, original posting date 2024/03/03, and this should be used as evidence in the lawsuit against the responsible parties -- you need not fear the result of a hundred battles."

If the internet is just 4 websites containing screenshots of the other ones, many are doing the good work of archiving for posterity.

Wasn't this Post also about Tumblr?

Yeah, yeah, we're taking the scenic route. (If you actually read this far, thank you. Send whatmathgodwrought a message and I'll read your blog, maybe reblog some of your stuff, maybe even follow you.)

Let's recap: pop culture spreads like wildfire. It gets retold/remixed/rebooted. Reference and spoilers are everywhere. You can delay and still enjoy a thing anytime, or you can resolutely choose to avoid a thing completely. You can remix, recreate, and fan-theorize canon ideas to their natural conclusion. The big five entertainment corps and AIs are strip-mining the heck out of it. People loves to try out things they never would have had access to before. So, after having some of these kind of experiences, you can post your fandom thoughts on Tumblr, add tags and watch it blow up (or not) or don't add tags (and watch it somehow blow up anyway?). Posts with "10k note energy" have slept for years before someone fired a reblog chain heard round the world. So what makes this environment the Galapagos Island or Cambrian period of websites for this Salad Bar idea?

Repeat and Resurgence

So the thing about a recurring joke is that it keep recurring. People will often write: "I will always reblog this." There are also seasonal examples. King Taejong falls from his horse, Feb 8, 1404. Julius Casear's assassaination on the Ides of March. Voyager's "Threshold" season-2, episode 15, Jan 29th. The clay tablet to Ea-nāṣir complaining about inferior quality copper. People like retelling, and reblogging with scheduling or queue contributes to the seasonal nature of repeat themes.

Tag You're It

Tags kind of help with the spreads-like-wildfire aspect. I've always liked tags as a general concept, because they're a flat, non-hierarchical, multi-category way of organizing information. In the Dewey Decimal system, your number is the category, and that's it; no nuance, no second-guessing, no argument. With tags, you add as many as you want, and then off it goes--haphazardly careening about the Tumblr ecosystem. Tagging is also broken, but whatever.

Goncharov

my favourite thing about the goncharov nonsense is that it relies on the tumblr culture of watching ur mutual posting about something but not really paying attention to it. the reason it slips so easily under the radar is we’re all used to seeing people’s random sudden fixations on our dashes and then just letting them do their thing - you don’t unfollow, you often don’t even filter it out, you just think ‘hey, glad they’re having fun’ and scroll past. i went like two days before realising it was a mass joke because i assumed one of my mutuals was just Really Into some old mafia film from the 70s all of a sudden. because why wouldn’t they be

User @watchmakermori hits the nail on the head. Tumblr's ecosystem exposes the user to random fandoms, which they might like, might look at later, or might actively avoid. It is within that space of ambiguity that the Goncharov phenomena thrived.

Trending By Organic Pollination

On this hellsite, it's possible to completely overwhelm the tags and get something trending, but at least this is mostly driven by human interest. In this case, Tumblr's lack of an algorithm is actually a feature. When a mutual reblogs something, at least I know that a human did it, unlike algorithm-based, auto-served content. We've seen what algorithms have done to Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, YouTube and even Google search. Algorithms drive "engagement", endless scrolling, and are likely contributing to Dead Internet Theory. At least Tumblr users are continuously blocking bots, trying to inoculate against AI-generated content, and are reblogging human content.

Parallel Play

Tumblr users' tendency to engage in parallel play also contributes to the remix factor as users reblog, retag and recontextulize. A shitpost becomes educational. Two isolated fandoms collide accidentally because of a poll. Someone makes a spelling error and it goes viral. Users play with JPEGs like dolls. Everyone is just out there doing their own thing in the big sandbox, and emergent behaviors result.

In Conclusion?

This post ended up more Tumblr-positive than I intended, even though that wasn't the original idea. The idea was to be more dispassionate, more objective, a casual observer. But like any participant-observer, I've gotten a bit caught up in the phenomenon.

So let's call this a Love Letter (academically aggravated) to Tumblr. Suffice it to say, I hope y'all keep blocking bots, reblogging humans, spiting the great AI content harvest, and keep enjoying the Salad Bar.

[mariacallous]

Come the warm, ripening days of summer and I imagine that I am closer to a more ancient, basic and healthful style of vegetable and grain eating than in my cold and meaty winters. I am seduced by my garden and neighboring farm stands vivid with color and flavor.

I avoid a lot of hot time in the kitchen. Much is eaten raw or almost: vegetable soups - gazpacho has many names and many recipes - vegetable sauces for rice or pasty and endless salads. I have corn on the cob and other vegetables in every form: grilled, roasted, steamed, stir-fried, puréed and combined in a variety of stews to be eaten hot, cold and at room temperature. Fresh herbs, garlic, onions and imagination sauce the dishes. The first beans from the pod or dried beans, fruit, cheese, bread and wine complete my menus.

There is almost no meat and little chicken or fish - an occasional grilling, a stew more vegetable than meat, a slice of cold meat or charcuterie, a boiled egg, a little tuna from the can.

I eat this way for pleasure as well as in a modern quest for a more healthful diet. Those came before us ate this way to take advantage of what they had - often limited. While we tend to see a cornucopia-vision of the past, rich in more seasonal, more natural foods, it is only partly true.

Winter in most climates was short of fresh vegetables, and the world relied on salting, pickling, drying and cold storage for any vegetables at all. The animal protein we are fending off today was in short, expensive supply.

With the best will in the world and without an evil intention, food writers and the natural inclination of all of us to glamorize the past and the far away have been guilty of distorting our view of the way the world eats. By selecting the best, the most festive food of other places or times, we have come to see them as halcyon visions of plenty, filled with meat and seafood, sugar and cream.

It is not sugarplum fairies, but roasts and fries, sausages and sautés, stews and cassoulets that frolic in our Rabelaisian dreams. Southern picnics are enriched with baked hams and fried chicken. Clambakes clutter the shores of a mythical New England. In that world of the imagination, native Africans are awash in chicken and ground-nut stew, native Americans feast on venison and buffalo, Greeks expand over countless dishes of succulent lamb, the Chinese are exquisite in damask while dining on unimaginably choice viands.

The English eat hearty roasts, silken salmon, and mountains of oysters. The French of the mind are various, either robust peasants glorying in rich stews or jeweled aristocrats whose famous chefs set forth succulent sauces. Our Italians live in a world of perpetual holidays, their risotti topped with pungent white truffles.

While not totally untrue - these foods did exist in each of these countries and were eaten by the natives at least upon occasion - such visions falsify the totality of real experience and may contribute to the glut of fat and cholesterol in our lives. We equate these festive foods with good living and think that ,if we can, we should eat this way all the time.

Our ancestors and many peoples all over the world today eat very differently from this skewed perception. Carbohydrate, or stodge, was what really fed and filled up most people. With bread as the staff of life in Europe, scarcity led to bread riots for centuries. Even in the recent past, when the government-fixed price of bread was raised in France, the announcement was carefully scheduled for August when almost all Frenchmen are on vacation.

Certainly, the staple food of the vast majority of the world is still rice, followed by bread and potatoes along with noodles - pasta among them - soy foods, yams, taro, yucca, corn, beans, pulses such as lentils, myriad grains and other starchy foods with names foreign to me. In the past and in much of the present, animal protein, when available, has been primarily a flavoring.

Beasts were not killed promiscuously. They were the cash crops and the providers of the milk and eggs. If a pig was slaughtered in the fall, that was a major event, and a family would hoard the preserved hams for Christmas and Easter, or sliver small amounts for a taste at many meals. A prosciutto bone or other ham bone was an asset to be used and reused in soups until flavorless. Fresh meats were rare; only the overage animal or the single, religiously festive springling was sacrificed.

To envisage a chicken in every pot was to dream of luxury indeed - the most luxurious of Sunday dinners.

if other meats were salted and smoked like bacon, or pickled like corned beef, air-dried like grisson or jerky, or preserved in fat like confit, it was to keep them over the winter and dispense them parsimoniously as special treats.

So when we read recipes for peasant dishes crammed with meat, we should remember we are reading about rare treats, not daily fare. Even fishing nations could have uncertain catches, rough seas and months when it was impossible to put out upon the water. Even plenty might need to be sold. A home-cooked paella was mainly rice, seasonings, oil and vegetables.

The great go-along-withs have been vegetables and fruits, fresh when in season, pickled or preserved for inclement times. A little fat would have come from the possibilities of each region - olive oil, butter and lard. Food was about survival and pleasure when possible. No one got more than nutritionally sound share of meat and fat over the course of a year. It is these daily recipes that are by and large missing or recorded primarily as accompanying dishes in our cookbooks and kitchens.

It is up to us to re-create out of our plenty the sane eating and pleasures that scarcity and invention, herb patch and garden, bestowed on our forebears.

"The Real Past", from The Opinionated Palate: Passions and Peeves on Eating and Food by Barbara Kafka

[shumaila1234567891122]

"Fueling Ramadan: Your Roadmap to a Vibrant Fast

As the sacred month of Ramadan draws near, countless souls brace for a journey of fasting, reflection, and spiritual ascent. Throughout this fasting period, where sunrise to sunset is marked by abstaining from sustenance, the quest for a nourishing diet becomes paramount. Yet fear not, for with thoughtful planning and dynamic choices, you can nurture both body and spirit during this hallowed time.

Dawn Delights (Pre-fast Feast):

Kickstart your day with a hearty pre-dawn feast, known as Suhoor, to fortify your body for the hours ahead. Seek a symphony of sustenance with complex carbs, lean proteins, and wholesome fats. From hearty oats to protein-packed eggs and the crunch of nuts, let your Suhoor sing with energy and vitality.

Hydration Haven:

In the parched hours of fasting, hydration becomes your oasis. Sip on the elixir of life – water – during non-fasting moments, especially in the hours leading to the fast's commencement. Embrace the refreshment of coconut water and the hydrating embrace of fruits like watermelon and cucumbers to replenish your body's essence.

Sunset Symphony (Breaking the Fast):

As the sun sets, break your fast with a mindful melody of hydrating treats like dates and water. Ease into nourishment with a light symphony of soups or salads, paving the way for a balanced feast. Let your Iftar bloom with a cornucopia of veggies, fruits, grains, and lean proteins to harmonize body and soul.

Measure of Moderation:

In the allure of post-fast feasts, remember the art of moderation. Let portion sizes be your compass, steering clear of overindulgence and its discordant aftermath. Tune in to your body's signals of satiety, gracefully pausing when contentment whispers its refrain.

Nutrient Rhapsody:

Compose your meals with a symphony of nutrient-dense foods, each note a crescendo of vitality. Paint your plate with the hues of fruits, veggies, whole grains, legumes, and the crescendo of nuts and seeds. Let each bite be a chorus of nourishment, enriching body and spirit alike.

Sweet Serenade, Sensible Sway:

Indulge in the sweet serenade of treats, but let wisdom guide your steps. Steer clear of the sugary siren's call of processed fare, opting instead for homemade delights sweetened with nature's bounty – dates, honey, and the like.

Restful Reverie, Active Anthem:

Amidst the fast's journey, honor the twin pillars of rest and activity. Embrace the symphony of sleep, aiming for 7-8 hours of nightly repose to nourish mind and body. Let the dance of light exercise – be it a stroll, yoga, or gentle stretches – keep your vitality ablaze.

In the tapestry of Ramadan, let your choices weave a vibrant mosaic of nourishment and vitality. Through mindful feasts, hydration, moderation, and the harmony of rest and activity, may your Ramadan be a symphony of well-being. Ramadan Mubarak!"

[longliverockback]

Black Sabbath The Complete Albums 1970-1978 [Box Set] 2014 Rhino ————————————————— Tracks LP One: Black Sabbath 01. Black Sabbath 02. The Wizzard 03. Wasp   - Behind the Wall of Sleep   - Bassically   - N.I.B. 04. Wicked World 05. A Bit of Finger   - Sleeping Village   - Warning 06. Evil Woman

Tracks LP Two: Paranoid 01. War Pigs • Luke’s Wall 02. Paranoid 03. Planet Caravan 04. Iron Man 05. Electric Funeral 06. Hand of Doom 07. Rat Salad 08. Jack the Stripper • Fairies Wear Boots

Tracks LP Three: Master of Reality 01. Sweet Leaf 02. After Forever (Including the Elegy) 03. Embryo 04. Children of the Grave 05. The Haunting 06. Orchild 07. Step Up 08. Lord of This World 09. Solitude 10. Deathmask 11. Into the Void

Tracks LP Four: Black Sabbath Vol. 4 01. Wheels of Confusion 02. Tomorrow’s Dream 03. Changes 04. FX 05. Supernaut 06. Snowblind 07. Cornucopia 08. Laguna Sunrise 09. St. Vitus Dance 10. Under the Sun

Tracks LP Five: Sabbath Bloody Sabbath 01. Sabbath Bloody Sabbath 02. A National Acrobat 03. Fluff 04. Sabbra Cadabra 05. Killing Yourself to Live 06. Who Are You 07. Looking for Today 08. Spiral Architect

Tracks LP Six: Sabotage 01. Hole in the Sky 02. Don’t Start (Too Late) 03. Symptom of the Universe 04. Megalomania 05. The Thrill of It All 06. Supertzar 07. Am I Going Insane (Radio) 08. The Writ

Tracks LP Seven: Technical Ecstasy 01. Back Street Kids 02. You Won’t Change Me 03. It’s Alright 04. Gypsy 05. All Moving Parts (Stand Still) 06. Rock ‘n’ Roll Doctor 07. She’s Gone 08. Dirty Women

Tracks LP Eight: Never Say Die! 01. Never Say Die 02. Johnny Blade 03. Junior’s Eyes 04. Hard Road 05. Shock Wave 06. Air Dancer 07. Over to You 08. Breakout 09. Swinging the Chain —————————————————

* Long Live Rock Archive

[masonxxbrick]

Mason had just left the Cornucopia. It was a successful trip that resulted in a sword and his first kill. Though, he did receive an injury but it wasn't anything too major and he would definitely live. Now, he wandered off in a random direction. He wasn't exactly sure where Smith was at this point but he was confident that he was okay. Smith was right, he could handle himself and really, he knew that he didn't need Mason. At the end of the day, there was a chance that he was slowing his brother down. But now he was going to prove himself useful since he had a weapon and was getting stuff done.

As he wandered a bit further, he noticed a shopping mall. "Oh wow." Mason mumbled to himself as he walked inside of the huge building. There was store after store lined up and filled with goodies. He wanted to explore all of them but he figured he could come back and look through them later. What really caught his eye was a food court not too far in front of him. Mason was still doing well on food but he wanted to scout out and see if there was anything in case him and Smith got low on food.

He explored the places more and ended up finding a salad place. It wasn't the most filling thing in the world but at this point food was food and he definitely wasn't going to complain. He wandered to the back and noticed a freezer with a small porthole in it. Standing on his tip toes, he took a look through the window. A smile immediately erupted on the boy's face. There was literally fresh food right in front of him and he couldn't be any happier. So, he opened the door and took a step in when suddenly, the door slammed behind him.

Mason quickly turned around and pushed on the door but it was locked. "No, no, no, no! Please!" He panicked as he threw his sword down and started banging on the door. The room was freezing and the boy immediately began to shiver. It was so cold he could even see his breath. "Help, please, someone help! I'm locked in here!" He yelled as he still banged on the door. His hands were freezing and hitting the door made them hurt even more.

After fifteen minutes of pounding on the door and yelling, his hands ached. They were bruised and going numb. This was it and he had to accept it. He was going to die because he got locked in a stupid freezer. Shivering and his teeth chattering, Mason sat in the corner of the freezer and covered himself with his rain coat. It was better than nothing. "I-I'm s-sorry, M-Miller. C-Cain I'm sorry." He said aloud. "T-tell Smith I-I'm sorry t-too." He barley got out through his chattering teeth.

@augiementation

[profoundgarenthaeindustry]

When you say the magic word and cause the important cutscene to play.

Hopefully, my passion and interest will be communicated among the multitudinous cornucopias of word salad I am angling in your direction.

Sorry for infodumping about my special interest out of nowhere, you said a keyword and it activated my unskippable dialogue

[spaciousreasoning]

‘Personal History’

Today is National Corn on the Cob Day, National German Chocolate Cake Day, Yarn Bombing Day, and National Making Life Beautiful Day.

On this day in 1509, King Henry VIII married his first wife, Catherine of Aragon. It did not work out too well, and he wound up trying five more times. I’m not sure he was ever truly satisfied.

June 11 is the birthday of actor Gene Wilder (1933), actor Chad Everett (1937), actor Adrienne Barbeau (1945), actor Hugh Laurie (1959), and actor Peter Dinklage (1969).

Clouds covered the sky this morning, and the overnight low got down to 47. With a minimum of sunshine today, the high only made it to 74.

My blood sugar dipped back out of the red zone this morning, to 159. Perhaps it was last night’s delicious Tuscan chicken dinner.

After we enjoyed our coffee and played the usual online brain games, Nancy did yoga while I played around on Flickr. Then we had oatmeal for breakfast, after which I spent more time on Flickr.

We met Kalen at the new house about 1 p.m., and I took pictures with the new camera and the iPhone. There is much to be done before we can move in, but we think it will all turn out well.

Then the three of us went to Cornucopia for a late lunch. Kalen had a salad, Nancy got an “all-day” breakfast sandwich with coleslaw on the side, and I went with the usual Swiss and mushroom burger with tater tots and ranch dressing for dipping sauce.

On the way home after lunch, we stopped by Old Crow for a mocha. We told the staff person it might just be our last hot mocha, if the warmer weather returns. They do make an iced mocha as well as a blended version, so we are still good to go.

Nancy and I took a nap when we got home, then showered after so we would be presentable for the evening. Then Nancy had a glass of wine while I played around on Flickr again. I am going through a lot of my early digital archives and posting images which deserve to be preserved online.

Because we were still full from our late lunch, we did not eat again before leaving a little before 6 p.m. for Hult Center, where we had tickets on Row 3 for tonight’s performance by Mary Chapin Carpenter. We had seen her just two years ago at the Fox Theater in Tucson, but we were ready to enjoy her once again.

Brandy Clark, who was unfamiliar to both of us, opened the show. There were some technical difficulties that made us concerned about the rest of the program, but once Mary Chapin came out, all our fears disappeared. Her voice and presence are wonderful, as are the lyrics to so many of her songs, including those she performed from her latest album, “Personal History.” The upper levels of the hall were not full, but all those present were every bit as enthusiastic as Nancy and I were, and it was a joy to sit close enough to actually see the faces of the performers.

Tomorrow promises a cloudy morning and mostly sunny afternoon but similar temperatures to today, from a morning low of 47 degrees to a high in the low 70s.

And with nothing on our agenda, we will have to discuss our plans for the day over our morning coffee. We will no doubt spend some time humming some songs by Mary Chapin Carpenter.

[rubys-kitchen]

Cornucopia salad

Chef’s Notes: I like it. Hard to get candy on the almonds. Dressing is nice and not oily. I find myself eager to have more.

Ingredients

SALAD

1/2 cup sliced almonds

3 Tbsp white sugar

4 oz (4 cups) torn leaf lettuce

4 oz (4 cups) torn romaine

sub lettuce and romaine with spring mix

2 celery ribs, chopped

4 green onions, chopped

1/4 cup dried cranberries

1 can (11 ounces) mandarin oranges, drained

1 medium apple, chopped

1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese

VINAIGRETTE:

1/4 cup canola oil

2 Tbsp sugar

2 Tbsp rice vinegar

1 Tbsp minced fresh parsley

1/2 tsp salt

Instructions

1. In a small heavy skillet over medium-low heat, stir almonds and sugar until sugar is melted and almonds are coated.

2. Cool almonds on waxed paper. Break apart and set aside.

3. In a large bowl, combine the lettuce, romaine, celery, onions and cranberries.

4. Add oranges and apple.

5. In a small bowl, whisk the oil, sugar, vinegar, parsley, salt and pepper.

6. Drizzle dressing over salad; toss to coat.

7. Sprinkle with almonds and blue cheese if desired.

[weird-things-to-think]

Oh boy, let me tell you about the word “multyfarious” or is it “mooltyfarius”? Anyway, this word is like a party in your brain where everyone is invited but nobody knows what’s going on. It’s like when you have a bazillion things happening at once, like trying to juggle flamingos while riding a unicycle on a tightrope over a pit of hungry alligators.

So, “mooltyfarius” is when you have a plethora, a cornucopia, a veritable smorgasbord of things all mixed together like a fruit salad made by a toddler. Imagine if you took a pizza, a taco, a sushi roll, and a bowl of cereal and threw them all in a blender. That’s “multyfarious” for you!

In the realm of the English lexicon, “mooltyfarius” is like that one friend who shows up to the party wearing a clown wig, a superhero cape, and scuba diving flippers. They’re doing everything at once, and you’re just standing there wondering how they manage to pull it off without spontaneously combusting.

So next time you find yourself in a situation where there’s a cacophony of chaos, a medley of madness, or a hodgepodge of hullabaloo, just remember: it’s all “multyfarious,” and you’re probably going to need a nap afterward.

[jurassicfruit1]

Discover the Essence of Freshness at JurassicFruit

Welcome to JurassicFruit, where your love for fruits meets its perfect match! If you're someone who appreciates the exquisite taste and vibrant colors of nature's bounty, then you've arrived at the right destination. At JurassicFruit, we're committed to delivering the freshest and most flavorful fruits to our esteemed customers, ensuring that every bite is a delightful experience.

A Cornucopia of Flavors

Step into our fruit market and prepare to be enchanted by the kaleidoscope of flavors and aromas that greet you. From the tangy sweetness of juicy oranges to the succulent allure of strawberries, and from the exotic charm of durians to the tropical vibrancy of mangoes, we boast an extensive selection that caters to every palate. Our dedicated team of farmers works tirelessly to handpick the finest fruits, sourcing them from both local farms and exotic locations worldwide, to provide you with an unparalleled assortment that promises nothing but the best.

Quality You Can Trust

At JurassicFruit, quality is our top priority. We understand that each fruit has its own distinct season and flavor profile, which is why we go to great lengths to ensure that our fruit market is always stocked with the freshest produce. Through a stringent quality control process, we meticulously inspect every fruit to guarantee that it's at the peak of its ripeness and flavor before it graces our shelves. So whether you're concocting a delectable fruit salad or seeking a nutritious snack to fuel your day, you can trust that JurassicFruit has got you covered.

Nourish Your Body, Nourish Your Soul

Beyond their irresistible taste, fruits offer a plethora of health benefits that contribute to overall well-being. Packed with essential vitamins, minerals, and antioxidants, they play a crucial role in boosting the immune system, aiding digestion, supporting heart health, facilitating weight management, promoting healthy skin, and even enhancing mental health. From vitamin C-rich oranges to fiber-packed apples and bananas, our fruit market offers a diverse array of options to help you embark on a journey towards a healthier and happier lifestyle.

Top Picks for Wellness Warriors

Looking to incorporate more healthy fruits into your diet? Here are some of our top picks available at JurassicFruit:

Blueberries: Loaded with antioxidants, blueberries are renowned for their brain-boosting properties and disease-fighting abilities.

Watermelon: With its high water content and abundance of vitamins A and C, watermelon is the perfect hydrating snack for those scorching summer days.

Avocado: Rich in heart-healthy monounsaturated fats, fiber, and an array of vitamins and minerals, avocados are a versatile superfood that can be enjoyed in various culinary creations.

Pineapple: Bursting with tropical goodness, pineapple contains bromelain, an enzyme that aids digestion and alleviates inflammation, making it a refreshing and nutritious addition to any meal.

Oranges: Bursting with vitamin C, oranges are a classic choice for boosting immunity and supporting overall health, making them a staple in any fruit basket.

Bananas: Portable, convenient, and packed with potassium and vitamin B6, bananas are the ultimate on-the-go snack for sustaining energy levels and promoting muscle recovery.

Experience the Magic of JurassicFruit

Whether you're a devoted fruit aficionado or a curious explorer eager to embark on a flavor-filled adventure, JurassicFruit invites you to experience the magic of our fruit market firsthand. With our unwavering commitment to quality, freshness, and customer satisfaction, we promise an unforgettable fruit experience that will leave you craving more. Visit JurassicFruit today and let your taste buds rejoice in the essence of freshness!

[artmolds]

Unique Ceramic Belly Bowl

ALI member, Diane Rossong is a life casting artist and owner of A Lasting Impression Artistic Castings in Calgary, Canada. Diane specializes in pregnancy castings. However, not only does she create beautiful wall hangings of her clients in their final weeks of pregnancy, she provides a very clever and unique ceramic bowl out of her client’s belly. So instead of simply creating wall art her clients can hang, she offers an option to create and everyday use of the casting. Her ceramic ‘belly bowls' may be used as a table center piece filled with a cornucopia of earth harvests, a punch bowl, salad bowl, soup or whatever one chooses.