#mr frog for president

[stoovrs]

wtf kind of debate is this

[erindraws05]

“Maybe, maybe I should do what I was supposed to do, in the beginning, hello…” — Mr. Frog, 2022. Okay so Mr. Frog quickly went from a character I was immensely afraid of to one of my favourites, so I decided to draw him :) 🐸 Go watch Smiling Friends!! 🗣️

[fkaaka]

Mr. Frog 2024

[dvcky-duck]

this is still very underdeveloped but ermm idk, here's some out of order notes and other stuff I needed to get out of my empty rattling head ^.^

also for a bit now I haven't exactly given this au a name (do all aus have names or am I poopid? errr) so uhh yah-

small update!

[fightclubcat]

Watching the debate rn

[mycrossovers]

[conkreetmonkey]

Smiling Friends: "Wouldn't it be funny if the USA's two presidential candidates were a bumbling oaf barely in possession of the mental faculties to dress himself who emboldens genocidal maniacs and an openly evil TV personality who routinely commits heinous felonies and insults his followers but somehow maintains a rabid fanbase?"

Me, not American: "Hehe yeah."

[t00thpasteface]

so the mr frog show "broke every record in television history" but when the showrunner was intimidating glep he still compared their projected viewers to what the mash finale got? mash fans stay winning honestly

[muppet-facts]

Muppet Fact #961

On Mrs. Bush’s Story Time, Count von Count read Strega Nona, Elmo read The Adventures of Frog and Toad, Big Bird read Arthur Meets the President, Oscar the Grouch read Gregory, the Terrible Eater, and Grover read Doctor De Soto.

Source:

Mrs. Bush’s Story Time. Muppet Wiki.

[scarycranegame]

mr. frog for democratic nominee

[danvsboardofeducation]

Watched Mr. President last night (SPOILERS FOR S2E2 of Smiling Friends)

It was... alright?

I'm surprised they leaned so hard on the gross-out humor angle, especially considering the show at large wasn't really majorly about jokes like that- they do have some stuff, like the multiple times characters vomit or Charlie's realistic explosion of blood in the first Christmas episode, but I was just kinda sketched out by all the pants-pooping jokes and Jimble just being covered in obvious food slop.

I feel like Mr. Frog's presidential campaign wasn't focused on enough; if we got more of him going through huge gaffes like his election PSA, it'd be way funnier to see Jimble miserably losing to him, and more Mr. Frog is appreciated.

All the same, though, the stuff with the worm media cult for Mr. Frog was really funny, especially how they immediately switched sides after finding out frogs eat worms, and how skewed the debate was. I also really thought the ending where they doxxed Glep was hysterical, especially because Glep explains himself and they just immediately forgive him.

Overall, 7/10. Probably won't revisit as much but still fairly solid.

[tokai-ulina]

A President In Exile (former president Frogious Jones' Theme)

[bruciemilf]

Thinking about cigarette mom! Thomas and how his parenting style was…Different from Bruce’s. For exemple:

“Jason, I can understand why you’d feel tempted to shoot Mr. Smith with your slingshot. Misinterpreting Hamlet is indeed pretty serious. But it’s not a good tactic to solve conflict.”

-

“Mr. Johnson says he won’t pass you if you don’t dissect that dumbass frog? What the hell. Grab my Marlboros and a hammer.”

-

“Dick, honey, I know sometimes talking can get overwhelming, but you can’t just ran away Everytime we have a disagreement. Let’s talk about this, please . ”

-

“Oh, you wanna run away! Alfie! Martha! The boss is running away from home! Should we tell the president? Should we tell Santa Claus? Go ahead. I’ll pack your bags for you. ��

-

“Damian, if we don’t keep our spaces clean, we’ll start to feel really bad, and Batcow will be very sad.”

-

“Why do you have to clean? Cause it’s your damn house too, doctor genius. What do you think this is, a hotel? Grab a rag and shut up.”

-

“I can’t promise I’ll always know what to do, or say if you have a problem. But I can promise we’ll solve it together.”

-

“Only three people in this world need to know what’s going on with you at all times, — your doctor, God, and me, and you better call me first.”

-

“I love you.”

-

“I fucking love you. Now shut up, the price is right is on.”

[deadpresidents]

A decade ago, the world had a brief fascination with José Mujica. He was the folksy president of Uruguay who had shunned his nation's presidential palace to live in a tiny tin-roof home with his wife and three-legged dog.

In speeches to world leaders, interviews with foreign journalists and documentaries on Netflix, Pepe Mujica, as he is universally known, shared countless tales from a life story fit for film. He had robbed banks as a leftist urban guerrilla; survived 15 years as a prisoner, including by befriending a frog while kept in a hole in the ground; and helped lead the transformation of his small South American nation into one of the world's healthiest and most socially liberal democracies.

But Mr. Mujica's legacy will be more than his colorful history and commitment to austerity. He became one of Latin America's most influential and important figures in large part for his plain-spoken philosophy on the path to a better society and happier life.

-- Here's a gift link from me to bypass the paywall and read this wonderful New York Times interview of lifelong activist, revolutionary, and former Uruguayan President José "Pepe" Mujica, who is still trying to pass along his hard-earned wisdom and political philosophy even as he's likely dying from cancer.

[prkwook]

THE STORM ⛈️ park gunwook

☆ pairing: high school student!gunwook x fem!reader

☆ genre: (slight??) angst, fluff,

☆ wc: 1.8k

☆ summary: your mind is a storm, spiraling like a hurricane, but at least you have someone ready to wait it out with you, no matter what happens.

☆ warnings: anxiety / social anxiety , reader has a panic attack (pls let me know if there are any i should add)

☆ note: this is my longest fic yet?!!!! not proofread

"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship." — Louisa May Alcott

You hate having to give presentations in class. So much so, you often skip class the day of your presentation because the thought of getting up in front of everyone makes you physically sick. Due to the amount of absences you were accruing because of this, you wanted to arrive early to school today to try and talk your way out of the presentation you were to give sometime today. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Unfortunately, today was not your lucky day.

When you slept 15 minutes past your alarm, only giving you 20 minutes to get ready and on your way, you thought it was just you being tired and when your hair straightener wouldn’t straighten how it always does, your excuse was that it was a hand-me-down from your older sister and it was getting old. But when your oatmeal was cold and you almost fell down the stairs on your way out the door, and you forgot your headphones at home, you decided that today, your luck (not that you normally have any) had run out.

When you got to school, you made a beeline directly towards the teacher’s office. When you got there, you found your teacher immediately and started walking towards him.

“Good morning, Y/n. What can I do for you this morning?” he asked you, eyes looking up at you from an email he was reading.

“Hi, Mr. Kim. You know those presentations we’re supposed to give today in class?” you mumbled. The frog in your throat was getting bigger by the minute and you didn’t know how much longer you could’ve stood there.

“Oh right! Thank you for reminding me! I completely forgot about those. What about ‘em?” You mentally kicked yourself. Another thing to add to the list of things that just couldn't go right. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“Right. Um, giving presentations makes me… uh… really um… nervous so I was wondering if I could maybe… uh… just come during lunch and just present to you instead of in front of the whole class.” You could already feel your usual day-of stomach ache coming on and it was not helping.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but this is a really big part of your grade. Public speaking is very important for your future so you should get used to it. I’m sure everyone is nervous. Plus, I can’t go around making exceptions for people just because they’re nervous, now can I?” he questioned with an expectant look in his eyes. Unable to respond, you sighed quietly and drop your eyes to the hands fidgeting at your side.

“Oh... okay. I understand.” Honestly, you wondered if your day could get any worse?

Turns out, it could and just did.

“Hello, class!” Mr. Kim exclaims as he saunters into the room, smile on his face.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” the class less than enthusiastically says back to him.

“Aw, where’s the excitement?” Silence.

“Well …” he claps. “I had forgotten about your presentations today but was reminded about them this morning, thanks to Y/n!” he laughs. All 52 eyes in the class turn to look at you. You remember how you used to want to be Violet from The Incredibles when you were little and try to make yourself as invisible as possible. Maybe if you close your eyes, they’ll all disappear.

“Since you reminded me, why don’t you go first Y/n?” You hesitate and a second later, a hand shoots up. It’s the hand that belongs to the class president, your knight-in-shining armor, and the boy you’ve liked since the first day you joined this school, Park Gunwook.

“I’ll go first!” he announces and starts to walk up to the front of the classroom, hands carrying bright, neon-colored flashcards. You didn’t even prepare flashcards. You watch as he gives his presentation with the confidence only a scholar on the topic could have and when he’s done, you watch as he walks back to his seat and sit down.

“Would anyone else like to go?” Not a single hand raises. “Well, I guess it’s your turn then, Y/n.” You get up and silently shuffle to the front of the room, making a mental note of all of the eyes that travel with you on your way. You also can't help but notice how your hair and uniform are now slightly disheveled, a by-product from when you had to slump down in your seat in order to avoid the gazes of your classmates. Suddenly, you’re more self-conscious than ever, feeling the stare of every single person in the room bore into you. When you finally reach the front, you look out into the sea of eyes that are all staring right back at you.

You look down at your hands and fidget with your rings until you hear your teacher say that you can start when you’re ready. But what if you’ll never be ready? What if this fear of embarrassment, this fear that others will notice that your anxiousness and take advantage of it, never goes away?

“Um…” You feel your hands start to shake so you hide them in the pockets of your sweatshirt. “My project was on…. um…” You look up at the SMART board next to you that has the slide presentation you spent hours on, projected onto it. “It’s on …. um… Romeo- sorry… um … Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.” You look up at the people who could clearly care less about your or your presentation but somehow, your brain has you convinced that they can see your anxiety, as if it’s written in big, bold letters right across your forehead. You start to get overwhelmed and all it takes is a quick glance to the corner where you can see two girls look at you, laugh, and then start whispering to each other, for you to be running out the door.

You run and run and run until you reach the staircase, a place you know no one will be this time of day, and finally let the tears spill. You’re seemingly safe and yet the thoughts in your head spiral like a hurricane, wreaking havoc on your emotions, the peaceful citizens in your brain. Your lungs burn with an all consuming fire, never letting you catch your breath, not for even a millisecond. Your hands are still shaking and you swear your heart is beating so fast, you might even be having a heart attack. You’ve felt these all too familiar feelings before and yet, they’re still as strong as the first time. Everything other than the hurricane is gone and yet, you can still feel a tap on your shoulder, a tap that alerts you of the presence of another being standing on the outside of your storm.

“Y/N, are you okay?” the person asks, worried laced in their words. You could recognize this voice from anywhere.

“Do I look okay?!” you yell, louder than intended. Gunwook recoils, words hitting him like cold water. Your storm widens and he's caught in the crossfire.

“Ok, I probably deserved that. Hey, it’s okay.” he says softly as if he’s trying not to scare you away. “Just breathe with me.” Inhale. Exhale. “Again.” Inhale, exhale. You feel your breathing start to return to normal but even still, you can’t seem to escape the storm. The boy sits down next to you and pats his shoulder. You lay your head down and cry on his shoulder for what feels like an eternity.

You sit up and look at his tear-stained shoulder. “Oh my god, I am so sorry." Embarassment floods your senses and a second wave of tears start to fall. Gunwook wraps his arms around you as if he's trying to protect you from the dangerous winds of your storm, now surrounding you both.

“Hey, no. It’s okay, I promise. No need to apologize. I completely understand how you feel. You might not believe me but trust me, I’ve gotten really good at hiding it. I don’t know if you noticed but while I was up there, my hands were shaking like crazy.”

As he talks, you feel your storm get smaller and smaller until it’s only just a little, tiny rain cloud floating above your head. You pull away and look him in the eyes.

“Why’d you chase after me?” you question, still looking into his warm, brown eyes. He looks right back into yours and wipes away a tear-shaped raindrop running down your cheek.

“Because I was worried about you, Y/N.”

“Why were you worried? I mean look at me, I've never been better.”

Gunwook laughs, and his laugh is a sound you're convinced is your new favorite. “What do you mean why? If the girl I like runs out of the classroom crying, obviously I’m going to be worried …. wait a second…..” He looks away to hide his cheeks, but his red ears are a dead giveaway.

“The girl you what?!”

“Shit. I’m sorry if that just made this awkward. I mean you said it yourself, we’re not really friends so I don’t blame you at all if you want me to leave. You know what, I’ll just go.” As he gets up and starts to walk back in the direction of your classroom, you grab his hand.

“Don’t I get to say my piece now?” Gunwook pauses and you take this as a sign to continue. “Remember when you were assigned to show me around the school because I was new? That was the day I spilled my strawberry milk all over you. I felt so bad and kept apologizing but you insisted that it was actually your fault because you bumped into me. You even bought me a new one from the cafeteria. Instead of making me feel embarrassed or humiliated, you comforted me, saying that it was okay because you had been looking for an excuse to get a new jacket. To this day, no one has ever done something for me like that.”

Gunwook laughs and the smile you’ve come to love appears on his face. “I remember that day like it was yesterday. The entire time I was with you, I was so nervous. I mean how could I not be? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Every time you smiled, my heart skipped a beat.”

“How come you never told me how you felt?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was scared. It’s a lot easier to stay quiet about it than have to deal with rejection.” Gunwook responds, sadness written all over his face.

“Who says I would’ve rejected you?” You say and smile for the first time that day.