I'm so sorry, I'm absolutely losing it. I went to my neighbor's today to find out what I would need to do to care for their puppy this weekend, and This Fucking Thing appeared ajgldfkjhfg she is a turkey hen. you know, the birds who quite famously look like this
with no feathers on their heads, or very little, mostly along the spine/top of the head... and this gal just rocks up with not only a LITTLE bit of feathering, but almost completely covered. Even her WATTLE had feathers.
I'mc rying
i said, what the hell is going on here? and they were like
buying an old, secluded house in the scottish highlands, intending on renovating and reselling it. but you find out quickly that it's haunted. like, haunted haunted.
at first, you refuse to believe a man that pretty would be dead. let alone, a nefarious spirit with... questionable intentions.
but, compared to the (literal) horror stories you've heard, spirit!johnny is pretty cordial in his ways of messing with you. always picks up the books he knocks over to startle you, or when you scream at him to give you back your keys, or quit hiding your glasses, dammit
sometimes, when you're in the right mood, you find it comforting to know you're not all alone out in the middle of nowhere. it's not like you can tell your friends and family any details of this. you'll sound downright insane.
you learn to deal with the strong scent of his cologne or the creak of his footsteps (which you only hear because he wants you to, of course).
and—naturally—the feeling of large hands smoothing along your spine, down to your hips, a thumb strumming your lips. possessively, right as sleep engulfs you. the first few times you chalk it up to an erotic fantasy that only surfaces when you're exhausted and bordering on delirium.
however, it proves difficult to rationalize the voice. especially when he knows your name.
the good news is i am almost certainly stronger than i think i am, if only because on the eighth of june in the year 2016, i did not collapse into a permanent heap from psychic damage caused by receiving the following text from my father, with absolutely zero context:
In ng bad end drama, it was stated by yashiki that Rosé was a friend of Saya. Sure sounds normal until u realized that Rosé was actually a doll if u had Rosé killed during the investigation. And in the blue demise, after hearing about Saya’s death, blue demise!Rosé actually grieved over her death. What do i get out of this?
1. Whatever saya and rosé had is the equivalent of whatever yashiki and mashita have right now
2.It’s in the Kujou blood to charm haunted dolls and supernatural beings
[5/9/24] the math library had a sale, so i went and bought a book on algebraic topology that im never gonna read. my only encounter with topology was through a matrix groups class and then a little romp through a homotopy textbook with a math grad student. i AM interested in the topic, but i was so sucky that im more hesitant around it.
i feel like a bull in a china shop around mathematics. yeah i do fine in the context of my degree but god they can get pedantic ugh. im just an unruly physicist im sorry.
but mathematicians amaze me! im so close to a math degree as well but i could never be a mathematician.
in retrospect covid advertising was so funny. this ad by Heineken is about how F1 had to be paused and they're like hm. let's show retired world champion nico rosberg doing malewifism and baking a Bundt cake to lift people's spirits