where is the big caesar’s

under the toga

worst possible answer to this thank you so much

not having seen The Umbrella Academy i briefly assumed this post was about  sixteenth-century monk and theologian Martin Luther and was frantically trying to parse how this meme content could possibly describe the nailing of the Ninety-Five Theses to a church door in Wittenberg

no offense but…I love water

can you even imagine being the villain chef in ratatoullie. like you’re running this restaurant and its not doing too well since the last chef, this world famous cook, died of sadness a few years back. you’re franchising the restaurant overseas and it’s not really helping your restaurant’s reputation but at least you can keep it open and make some money.

but then like, this mess of a guy shows up and he’s got a letter that says he’s the son of the previous chef and owns the business. the statue of limitations for the will, which makes you the official owner, passes in a few weeks and this guy is showing up right now, after years of you running the place. you hide this information in the hope that the deadline will pass and your life won’t be ripped to shreds by this. 

and the same night he’s hired (by your staff, without your permission), a rat shows up. you have the new guy kill it because the last thing you need to deal with is a health code violation. but it doesn’t go away. You start to see it everywhere, like a ghost. in the kitchen. on the street. probably in your dreams. You see it’s shadow out of the corner of your eye, and it’s always with the new guy, like he and the rat are plotting together. it’s a symbol of all your fears and anxieties. You try to prove that you’re not crazy, but nothing comes of it. And like, just when you’re starting to accept that you are, in fact, hallucinating, you go into your office, and you see this

so like, the rat, which you now know is real, steals your sensitive documents and gets you fired from your business. you have to stand by now and watch the trash guy’s fame play out, knowing he’s pulling off some sort of willard situation. is it one rat? dozens of rats? every night you dream of rats, and every morning you wonder if hoards of them might come for you. your life is plagued by rats, and you haven’t even seen one since that day in your office.

so you stalk the rat man. maybe you can do something about it. you find out that linguini is nothing but the puppet and the rat is running the restaurant it stole from you. you call the health inspector, the only person who’s going to take a rat seriously, but even they barely listen. you even manage to trap the rat and put it in your car, but later you find your car totaled, the front completely smashed open by a gargoyle that fell off the roof of a building. the rat is gone.

you go to the restaurant. you will find the rat. you burst into the kitchen. it’s like all your nightmares burst into reality at once. there’s thousands of rats. they swarm you, bound you, gag you, and throw you into the closet. right next to the health inspector. 

this is you. it’s apparent you need to rethink your life a little. 

the year is 2039. i step outside my tenement in order to catch the TeslaBus shuttle that ferries me to my Amazon fulfillment center job. the chip in my hand beeps, reminding me to drink my SkinnyGurlLivin™ meal shake before the window for optimal nutrient absorption passes. it tastes like astroturf but i can feel my bowels rioting in response, so i know it must be working to help me be my best self. on my way to the shuttle stop ten blocks away i pass twelve holo-adverts of fast food gijinka mascots. the Burger King hologram has hamburger buns for breasts and attempts to seduce me, flashing her panties and following me for a full block until her holo-tether reaches the end of its broadcasting field and she blinks out of existence. “dude, you know you crave those burgs like i crave the sweet release of death, asdfghkld” are her last words. i dont know how she said a keysmash out loud. when she disappears i am briefly saddened by the abrupt feeling that once again, i am alone. her brightly colored buxom form may have been nothing but an illusion, but it was the only humanoid interaction i have had this morning. the heel of my vegan leather boot suddenly catches on a sidewalk crack and peels off from the sole. i sigh. that’s the third pair of boots i’ve had to buy this month. now limping awkwardly, i pull out my AmazonPhone Ozymandias and place another order for boots. finally i am at the TeslaBus stop. twenty five of us huddle under the heat lamp for warmth. the sides of the shelter are screens broadcasting advertisements for the new PowyrWomyn Labial Lipstick. “nothing makes me feel like i have rights more than applying Melon Pink to my nether region to make the boys go craaaaazy” the spokesmodel says. “men love empowered pussies.” the screen shifts to a newsreel and everyone at the shuttle stop immediately begins to zone out. “we’re very proud of the brave work our Freedom Drones are doing out on the battlefield. support your robo-troops today.” i can’t remember what battlefield the newsman is referring to. there are so many wars right now, it’s hard to keep track. after an hour, the TeslaBus finally arrives. this is actually pretty good time. usually it’s two hours. we all scramble to get onto the shuttle, pushing and shoving and clawing at each other. the Amazon Center only has so many available jobs per day, so we have to literally battle each other for the right to work there. with minimal damage (only a bloody nose and a small bite on my forearm) i manage to secure a seat near the front of the TeslaBus. an older woman eyes me, and i bare my teeth and hiss at her to signify that i am young, virile, and will defend my prime seat to the death. she drops her gaze. satisfied, i carefully crack open the tiny strongbox that houses my Model XVII AirPods. each one is the size and shape of a grain of rice. the audio quality is terrible, but it’s a long commute, and if i am unable to drown out the moans and groans of my fellow prospective Amazon workers, i may succumb to Shuttle Fever and attempt to throw myself out a window. 

Ah, yes! Hello! You must also live in Seattle.

You know what I find interesting? How I Met Your Mother just like… disappeared from culture after the finale aired. Like sure you might still hear the odd, “Challenge accepted” or use that gif of Marshall hugging the pillow as a reaction image, but no one really uses the phrases in vernacular, no one talks about the episodes.

And I think it has to do with the fact that the finale betrayed fans badly.

Take Friends for instance. It still is a lasting cultural thing. I think we can all agree now in hindsight, that Ross is an absolute douchecanoe, but at the time, the majority of fans wanted Ross and Rachel to get together because it had been this thing that the show had told us through cues was MEANT to be.

In HIMYM, the entire show was predicated on MEETING the Mother, and we had ruled out that Robin wasn’t the Mother. More than that, they had shown us that Barney and Robin were actually perfect for each other. They had spent episodes and seasons redeeming Barney, and softening Robin and showing us why they were meant to be. And to see BOTH of those relationships forced apart for a series finale that they had written all the way back in season 1 that didn’t make any sense for the story they eventually told, was damning for the show’s legacy in culture.

I firmly believe that writers should be able to write the story they want, and if you want to listen to constructive criticism or do a little fan service along the way then great, but when you get to the finale? That right there is 100% for the fans. The finale is when you let go of the story completely. The finale is a love letter to the people who made your show continue for as long as it did. Good finales are why shows survive.

When you’re writing a work-in-progress, sometimes you have to abandon your original plan. Let that be a lesson.

I Hear That’s Good

AM I HAVING A STROKE?

The synchronized “jOHN MulANey” absolutely destroyed me

MUHLANEE

spotify gives you all of your stats at the end of every year and makes you a playlist of your top 100 songs, makes you six (6) personalized playlists every day, And a playlist every monday of new music based on your listening history and yall still gonna say apple music is better? i have to laugh

ABBA - Gimme Gimme Gimme

8-bit version (square waves)

this is what plays in the background when you have to fight abba in 1to1 combat

i have been in america lately and tried its Various cuisine’s here is my review

wendys

cook out

steak n shake

cracker barrel

costco

chipotle

sonic drive thru

taco bell

sheetz

my kind or content

Please read this whole thing because it only escalates the food related nonsense

In this house we love and protect Freckle x

I have come to the conclusion that I am the Freckle of my friend group and I am terrified and also delighted.

one time on that same campus someone in the equine program didn’t shut a pasture gate and the pastures were just right there where all the classes were so when all the horses got out I just left class and saw first: a bunch of horses running

second: a bunch of equine majors chasing them on Foot for some reason

third: a group of students from the city just absolutely losing their minds laughing and recording it on their phones

fourth: a terrified work-study student parking authority who, when I asked, said “I don’t know anything about horses, but they told me to stop them if the come this way. what’ll happen if they do?? will they trample me???”

fifth: a group of boys in cowboy hats and flannels that I ended up standing with while the whole thing unfolded.

it took Twenty Minutes for someone to get on horseback to corral the herd.

I was like “is anyone on horseback?? what’s going on??”

and they said “no. we’re wondering when they’ll figure that out.”

and we all stood there like this

I’ve never heard of an Equine major, but it sounds lovely and entirely chaotic.

Every time someone tries to explain the metaplot of Supernatural to me, it basically ends up sounding like redneck Dragon Ball Z. I’m sure there’s some nuance I’m failing to grasp here.

Care to elaborate on that?

…I’m not even offended, just absolutely curious.  From the stuff I’ve seen and heard about Supernatural I can’t see the connection.

Mostly, I get the impression of a show that doesn’t know how not to escalate.

Every threat’s gotta be quantitatively bigger and badder than the one that came before. Every deus ex machina’s gotta be shinier than the last one. Every season’s gotta end with a massive eleventh-hour powerup for our heroes, only for the next season to raise the stakes enough to put them back in the underdog position.

It’s like, you beat the Devil himself? Well, now you’ve gotta fight the Devil’s cousin Phil, who has conveniently gone entirely unmentioned up until now, but he’s totally twice as evil.

That last paragraph was literally supposed to be the most ridiculous hypothetical example I could think of, and people are messaging me to say “his name was Metatron, not Phil”. I can’t even make fun of this show.

Bugs Bunny could singlehandedly defeat Thanos by dressing up as a TSA agent and setting up a metal detector in the middle of the battlefield saying that all metal objects must be removed if you want to pass on through now stick around for my 2,000 word essay on just how effectively he would convince The Mad Titan to comply

“For shame, doc! Dontcha know we got other folks waiting?”

(Thanos looks behind him and sees dozens of Bugs Bunnies dressed as angry yelling travelers with huge bags of luggage. Thanos rubs his neck guiltily and begins sliding off the gauntlet)

I felt compelled

I don’t think I’ve seen such a finely crafted Looney Toons joke in over two decades. Bravo.

meanwhile in england

it is 28°C how do you people do this ‘heat’ thing

americans laughing in the distance

australians laughing maniacly 

im off to go commit a vandalism

But that’s illegal

Aw come on! Hear me out at least!

We live in a society where the only public art we’re exposed to is the stuff that government officials allow to be displayed. There is no feasible way that I can creatively express myself on a large scale without being rich and famous first. Spray painting is the only way I can leave my mark on the world while I’m still an adolescent, and possibly the only way I can inspire people. Not only that, but I’m creating an art piece! A landmark! It’s my hometown, who is better suited to paint it than someone who’s lived there their whole life?

YEAH!! DO IT, FISH! You deserve to have your voice heard! Show us your art that you work so hard to spread to the world! We support you!

HELL YEAH FISH