do people actually read books while in the bathtub

how do you not get everything wet

why is this making me laugh so fucking hard

THANK YOU FOR ADDING A VISUAL OMG

I know this is going to make me sound pretensions but I have to get it off my chest. I feel an unimaginable rage when someone posts a photo and is like "this picture looks like a renaissance painting lol" when the photo clearly has the lighting, colors and composition of a baroque or romantic painting. There are differences in these styles and those differences are important and labeling every "classical" looking painting as renaissance is annoying and upsetting to me. And anytime I come across one of those posts I have to put down my phone and go take a walk because they make me so mad

In case you're curious here's what I mean.

Renaissance(distinct lines, stability and the individual man):

Baroque (bold, chaotic, dramatic):

Romantic(romanticize the simple hard working life):

Do you see the difference?

this post has re-wired my brain in the best way

i’ve been told by various european friends that the most american sentence i’ve ever said is “sophomore year of college, some friends and i road-tripped thirteen hours to florida for spring break.”

and now i can confidently say this is the most guy-who-lives-in-paris sentence i’ve ever said: “today i was cycling to meet a friend at buttes-chaumont and i went over some cobblestones and my baguette got launched out of the bike basket into the middle of the roundabout”

@derinthescarletpescatarian I need an Australian sentence now.

Once I was on an eighteen hour train ride into the city and the complementary tea service was down because the train had hit a kangaroo on the way up and broken their hot water system.

why is this so funny

how much of a transphobe do you have to be in order to get suspended on the transphobia website

i walk a fine line between “i’m asexual and i hate how much the world revolves around sex” and “sex is way too stigmatized and people should be able to be more open about it if they want to”

I think these are two sides of the coin called "sex should not be such a big deal"

"no spam liking" stfu that's how i know my mutuals are alive smh

#PLEASE DO embark upon a frenzied liking-spree be you friend or extraordinarily lost traveler of the web#i like using deductive reasoning to backwards engineer the convoluted chain of tags you're following through the annals of my blog#or watch you systematically like every single photo i've ever posted of wwi soldiers posing with animal companions

Different Stories Resonate with Different People

I will always reblog this.

I once spent three hours scouring the internet to find this comic again, I will not let that be repeated.

Do you know how badly you have to fuck up for this to happen

I have to hand it to Donald Trump, I didn’t think the sequel to the 1932 Great Emu War would be a trade war against the penguin nation but he truly continues to be an innovator in the stupidity industry

For further reading of this absurdity.

Too bad the prophet Cassandra never met Odysseus

They say if she made a prophecy Nobody would believe her

I’ve gotta say, that is exactly the kind of stupid thing that probably would circumvent a curse.

Cassandra: YOU ARE ALL GOING TO REGRET THIS SO MUCH YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. 

Odysseus: Regret it why?

Cassandra: You won’t believe me if I tell you. If I prophecy, nobody believes me. That is my curse.

Odysseus: … I’m Nobody. Fill me in. 

*A couple of months later* 

Odysseus: HELLO PENELOPE, I AM HERE PRECISELY ON TIME AND NOT YEARS LATE incidentally I rescued and adopted a Trojan seer while I was away, she’s great, got me home really fast, Cassandra this is your new mother who’s not going to treat you like shit. 

Penelope: … I’m going to need more details, but okay, sure. 

Cassandra: *in tears* I love you, new family. 

Cassandra: Penelope, I’ve had another vision.

Penelope, sighs: Go tell your father.

#awww #wholesome greek mythology #bet you’ve never seen that phrase before (via @philosopherking1887)

“Are you the witch who turned eleven princes into swans?”

The old woman stared at the figure on the front step of her cottage and considered her options. It was the kind of question usually backed up by a mob with meaningful torches, and the kind of question she tried to avoid.

Coming from a single dusty, tired housewife, it should’ve held no terrors.

“You a cop?”

The housewife twisted the hem of her apron. “No,” she muttered. “I’m a swan.”

A raven croaked somewhere in the woods. Wind whispered in the autumn leaves.

Then: “I think I can guess,” the old woman said slowly. “Husband stole your swan skin and forced you to marry him?”

A nod.

“And you can’t turn back into a swan until you find your skin again.”

A nod.

“But I reckon he’s hidden it, or burned it, or keeps it locked up so you can’t touch it.”

A tiny, miserable nod.

“And then you hear that old Granny Rothbart who lives out in the woods is really a batty old witch whose father taught her how to turn princes into swans,” the old woman sighed. “And you think, ‘Hey, stuff the old skin, I can just turn into a swan again this way.’

“But even if that was true – which I haven’t said if it is or if it isn’t – I’d say that I can only do it to make people miserable. I’m an awful person. I can’t do it out of the goodness of my heart. I have no goodness. I can’t use magic to make you feel better. I only wish I could.”

Another pause. “If I was a witch,” she added.

The housewife chewed the inside of her cheek. Then she drew herself up and, for the first time, looked the old woman in the eyes.

“Can you do it to make my husband miserable?”

The old woman considered her options. Then she pulled the wand out from the umbrella stand by the door. It was long, and silver, and a tiny glass swan with open wings stood perched on the tip.

“I can work with that,” said the witch.

This makes me weepy for so many reasons:

1. There’s a kid out there already thinking of inclusivity at such a young age.

2. There’s a blind boy who feels more seen and loved and part of his class.

3. The tenderness and consideration that the mom put into creating the special heartfelt felt heart (see what I did there?) for the classmate is so apparent.

4. That boy’s parents must have bawled seeing the valentine their son came home with and knowing that he’s being included and welcomed by his peers.

There's good in this world, Mister Frodo.

observations

yeah

The baker‘s Konel Bread in Tokyo and she‘s amazing

We don’t have a uniform, why do you ask?

Inspired by our friends at Rapid City Public Library (link goes to TikTok). Music only - sound not needed.

Music credit: George Street Shuffle Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/