#not for the squeamish

[onlyhurtforaminute]

TOMBSTONES-SHRIEK WELL BEFORE DYING

[johnschneiderblog]

‘Banshees’ not for the squeamish

Even when a movie really grabs me by the collar, I’m sometimes reluctant to offer a blanket endorsement because I’ve learned over the years that my cinematic tastes may be quirkier than most.

A notable example was the 2014 movie “Birdman,” directed by Alejandro Iñárritu and starring Michael Keaton and Edward Norton.

I loved it and recommended it indiscriminately. More than one of my friends, after watching it, came back to me asking, “What was that ...?”

So it is with “The Banshees of Inisherin.” After our kids sang its praises, Sharon and I watched it Monday night on HBO (the big advantage there over a movie theater is closed captioning; the characters, all Irish, speak English but you wouldn’t always know it.)

Written and directed by Martin McDonagh, “Banshees” tells the story of two lifelong friends -  Pádraic (Colin Farrell and Colm (Brendan Gleeson) - living on a remote island off the coast of Ireland in the 1920s.

Colm suddenly ends the friendship and a devastated Pádraic can’t figure out why. Pádraic’s attempt to fix the situation leads to horrific consequences.

“Banshees” is not for the squeamish, but a week after seeing the movie, I’m still thinking about it. It’s possible you would be, too. It’s also possible you wouldn’t make it  through the whole movie.

[acantha-j-roberts]

Not for the squeamish!!!!

The is footage of Matthew Gray Gubler when he dislocated his knee and went to the hospital. I love how he is still laughing even when he’s hurt. If you’ve watched season 5 of Criminal Minds, this is the real reason Reid was on crutches.

[tyrantdotexe]

41 for Buxia

41. — insanity: extreme foolishness or irrationality.

When Buxia was younger, in his old home, he’d stare down at the pond at his own reflection. Those glassy near-transparent eyes staring back up at him as he poked the surface and let his clear image distort. No matter how many times he broke the water tension, his image will eventually return to its perfect form.

He longed to become one with the reflection in the water. He’d cup his hands and scoop at the boy on the other side hoping that eventually he’ll pull himself from his aquatic prison. No matter how many times he wet his skin and sleeves, the boy continued to stare at him with those empty eyes, neither begging nor pleading for this boy’s help. Frustrated, Buxia would kick the dirt on the edge into the water, scattering its reflection in revenge for the reflection’s complacency. 

But the reflection was relentless.

Walking the halls next to the perfectly polished windows, the boy would follow Buxia, matching his steps and mimic his words. Irritated, Buxia would look over to see him staring back.

“Annoying,” he’d say before he slapped the glass to watch the glare pass over the boy before he simply returned again.

No matter how much he’d abuse the thin barrier between him and this same boy, he was everywhere. Beneath his feet on the marble title, in his mirrors, his windows, the water, the silverware. He’d turn around-and-around a million times to see the boy, damned eyes, looking back.

“If you love me so much, then why won’t you join me,” Buxia would yell at him, another fist connecting to the glassy wall between them, “I can see you yearning for me as I yearn for you.”

“I can see you yearning for me as I yearn for you,” the boy would mouth wordlessly in response.

Why was it so hard to love someone as they loved you? How could people be so selfish and only think for themselves? 

Buxia’s heart was full of love and compassion, he merely wanted to share it with those who were willing to receive it. They only had to say the words and he’d scrape into the flesh and bone, peeling back the folds, and yanked the beating muscle out of his chest for them. His love was pure and ritual, but no one longed for that kind of passion.

An overbearing ache overcame his chest as his heart shattered from the refusal. It was hot, it pulsed, it was tight. His hands gripped and groped over his damp skin, nails deep in the pores trying to cease the torment inside of him. 

In desperate attempt, he smashed the nearest mirror and grabbed the biggest piece. He ran the jagged end along his tongue to wet the blade, letting it be lubricated with his own fluids. 

“You’d do anything to love me?” a mouth whispered to Buxia.

Flipping the bloodstained blade over, he noticed the closeness of the boy, staring at him with wet eyes. 

“Yes, you know I would,” he cried in response with a weak voice.

“Then do it,” the boy taunted him.

Buxia stared at him wide-eyed, droplets falling onto the pane between them as the tears escaped his eyes. Taking that same shard, he touched it to his chest, but hesitated.

“I do not have the strength,” he breathed as he dropped it onto the floor with a clatter. Violet-indigo eyes staring back up at him, clouded with tears.

“You do not have the will to. You are weak,” he said before he scattered into several pieces. There was nothing left of the boy but a glimpse of his black hair and violet-indigo tri-fins twitching as he hunched over crying into his hands. 

[karavansara]

Tips on How to Get Through 3- Day Novel: A Writing Marathon — Act the Giddy Goat When summer is nearly over and kids start heading back to school, you know that three seasons are quickly coming up: pumpkin spice season, the holiday season, and novel writing season.

[mhalachai]

Today in up-north news... 

A human toe has fallen prey to some sticky fingers in Dawson City, Yukon.

And not just any toe — the gnarled digit is the essential ingredient in the famous "Sourtoe Cocktail" at the Downtown Hotel.

Sourtoe Cocktail.

"We are furious," said the hotel's "Toe Captain," Terry Lee, in a news release. "Toes are very hard to come by."

Toes are very hard to come by. 

The traditional Sourtoe Cocktail — a Klondike-inspired invention — involves a shot of whisky with the digit bobbing in the glass. The toe must touch the brave drinker's lips.

"Stunts like this adversely affect the whole community, not just the Downtown Hotel. We fortunately have a couple of back up toes, but we really need this one back," Lee says in the release.

We have a couple of back up toes.  

The theft of the toe is a big loss, said hotel manager Geri Coulbourne. She says the toe was donated by a man who had to have it surgically removed, then cured in salt for six months.

"This was our new toe, and it was a really good one. We just started using it this weekend,"  she said.

This was our new toe, and it was a really good one.

I’m not including the images from the story because no one needs to see a severed toe at dinner time. If you do click on the link, you will see the toe.

As an aside n Dawson City there is a Sourtoe Cocktail Club, with an actual origin story:

The legend of the first “sourtoe” dates back to the 1920’s and features a feisty rum-runner named Louie Linken and his brother Otto.  During one of their cross-border deliveries, they ran into an awful blizzard.  In an effort to help direct his dog team, Louie stepped off the sled and into some icy overflow—soaking his foot thoroughly.

Fearing that the police were on their trail, they continued on their journey. Unfortunately, the prolonged exposure to the cold caused Louie’s big toe to be frozen solid.  To prevent gangrene, the faithful Otto performed the amputation using a woodcutting axe (and some overproof rum for anesthesia).  To commemorate this moment, the brothers preserved the toe in a jar of alcohol.

Years later, while cleaning out an abandoned cabin, the toe was discovered by Captain Dick Stevenson.  After conferring with friends, the Sourtoe Cocktail Club was established and the rules developed.  Since its inception, the club has acquired (by donation) over 10 toes.

[darthfar]

Oh my.

I’m not sure how I got there either, but here, have an article (complete with illustrations) about how much err, fun surgery had been before the introduction of anaesthetics.

[restlessreylo]

This is gonna be a long one. And in no particular order. 

I had a resident totally flip her shit today. Punching people, spitting on them, crying, screaming, ripping her clothes off hulk style, throwing pads/tampons and furniture at us, more screaming, touching herself to freak us out, hitting herself, and even more screaming. After she took her PRN, she calmed down enough to let a doctor look at her and then she made me hold her hands for 20 minutes while she calmed down. All of this happened within an hour twice today. In the morning and in the afternoon. 

I had a resident today  who was on five minute hand checks because last week, he developed a habit of digging at himself. He managed to stick his whole hand up his ass. There was a lot of blood and stitches. 

I had a resident that was walking up and down the hallway screaming for his dad and punching people in the face and running away. 

I had a resident today that was biting herself to the point of biting chunks of her skin off and she was pulling her hair out by the handfuls. More stitches. 

I had a chair thrown at me today. 

And on top of all that, we had a new resident joining our building today and we had to keep a constant watch on him in case he freaked out. He did. 

I am exhausted and bruised and sore. I’m just glad I have the weekend off. 

[criticalbread]

oops

just sliced the tip of my finger off with a v sharp knife while chopping bok choy. my mum and nurse just sighed at me and wrapped it with a wet paper towel and helped me shove the hand into a latex glove

u know so i can keep cooking x^D

[pup-fenwick]

i just watched would you rather on netflix and it's seriously effed up

[wittchy--woman]

Hedge hog update

Day 2. (Note- Referring to it as the hedge hog because I am still unsure of the gender.) I went and checked on the rescued hedge hog today and while oiling it a whole lot of maggots came out from between the quills which shows that his/her condition is worse than I thought. I was worried that there was a hidden wound that the maggots were thriving off of so in order to find out I gave it a bath, luckily there was no wound. The maggots were just living under the mange and dead skin surface of the falling quills which during her/his bath I was somewhat able to remove. Pulling out a hedge hog's quill is the pain equivalent of someone pulling out a chunk of our hair so you have to let them loosen and fall naturally (which the warm bath also aids) before you're able to remove them. I also provided a lovely warm hot water bottle to snuggle tonight so hopefully he/she's on her way to recovery. Not sure if anyone is interested but I’ll keep this updated daily anyway. 

[maureenlycaon]

Oh god. I'm not sure if this is great, or the worst thing I've ever seen.

[thelambstotheslaughter-blog]

Tombstones | Re-ORGAN-Ized | Not For The Squeamish