#give me the money

[delusionaltoma]

Just got out of work, this idea was stuck in my head all shift

[dearaustinbutler]

Austin in La

[corbyns-stuff]

[lalunanymph]

thinking about that one smut writer who published over 164 books in a year ….. i want what’s in her coffee so i can start making BANK

[the-gayest-straight]

POV: Me in 5th grade after I finish one home chore

[equallyshaw]

youre girl is booked and busy this summer !!!!!!

[can-we-die-now]

boytoy randomly in the middle of class "and thats why he made me send feet pics"

[animal-123-crazy]

Absolutely gimme

Give me more time and money to spend on my hobbies and youll see what fandoms im in anyways

If you got enough money to live happily and comfortably for the rest of your life, but everyone who saw you immediately knew what fandom you are in and understood what that means, would you take it?

[cruciatus-in-crucem]

Love (hate) reading an article that wasn't written by a journalist (they're supposed to put the most important information at the top and then elaborate more further on I dont want to have to read the whole article in depth newspaper articles are written to be skimmed the first time over whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy)

[morganbritton132]

Robin: *fighting a goon*

Goon: Stop! Stop, I quit. I give up.

Robin: Really?

Goon: Yes. Just tie me up for the police.

Robin:

Robin: Give me six dollars.

Goon: What?

Robin, in a fighting stance: Give me six dollars for the book fair or I’ll beat you up. Again.

Goon: *can’t believe they were just getting their ass kicked by a toddler in go-go boots*

Goon: I only got a ten

Robin: Deal.

Batman: *makes him give the money back*

[podcastwizard]

actually i didn't move to la to pursue a career in entertainment, i moved to la to increase my chances of getting hit by a car driven by a celebrity where i don't get injured to the point of hospitalization but the celebrity cuts me a big check in exchange for my silence. i've got my sights set on timothée chalamet but i'm flexible

[belladonna-bellatrix]

THANK YOU.

Image description: tweets from @ jaboukie that read: “yall need to stop hating on sex scenes and start demanding more non cishet male directors. i promise yall will not hate sex scenes as much

We haven’t really seen what a horny lesbian would do [on] a Hollywood budget”

End image description

It’s true and we should say it

[datadegroove]

here i have a new plan for the world: i think that employers should take all the money that they give you and make a 100% contribution to this account that would accessible by me called a "bank account" and then i could take this "money" that was in this "bank account" and use it for whatever purpose i desire instead of spending all my goddamn money that i'm owed that i didn't agree to have put into these pointless expenditure accounts for health or dental or glasses or safety boots or WHATEVER

[redysetdare]

You can help an aroace this Valentine's day for the low low price of 1 billion dollars sent to me.

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[flakypuffpastry]

I'd consider it if they give me a dollar each.