I Don’t Know How Anyone Could Possibly Risk Plagiarising On Purpose Like I Am So God Damn Terrified

Everyone reblog this and tag it with your useless talents

but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:

start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)

measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.

remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.

become consumed with despair.

decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.

remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit. 

once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.

now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably. 

take a minute to dwell upon your failings.

grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.

pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up. 

melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.

put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.

remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)

CONSUME THE RICE.

realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen. 

put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.

for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.

i've seen enough horror movies starring upper-middle-income white families stuck in spacious haunted mansions. gimme stories about millennials stuck in haunted studio apartments. consider the realism:

why is this protagonist staying in an obviously haunted building despite the glaring warning signs? because a week at a motel would send them spiraling into credit card debt, they'll take their chances with the vengeful spirits. why did they chose this apartment complex to begin with, despite the many many unexplained mysterious deaths that show up on the first page of a google search? hon some of us don't have the credit score to move away from high (paranormal) crime areas. how could i be so careless as to sign a soul-binding contract with a demonic entity? bitch they're called LANDLORDS

People horrifically fucking up facts about evolution and genetics too support their stupid beliefs or to seem smart and “rational” is probably one of my big pet peeves 

Counter offer: peanut butter, honey, banana, + granola! Very very good, adds a nice crunch

I have a very curious question for people - have any of you had a Peanut Butter and Honey sandwich?

I grew up thinking it was 100% completely normal, but when i brought it up to a friend one time they were like “?????? WHAT???? YOU EAT PEANUT BUTTER AND HONEY???? TOGETHER????”

And im like “Yeah??????? Its no different than PB n J, its just… PB n H?????”

But then they asked around and then reported back to me that THEIR friends didn’t know what i was talking about, so…. As I was reminded of this convo by eating a PB and honey sandwich, i gotta wonder if that’s a thing you guys think is normal or if you’ve even heard of it.

Does anyone else just lay in bed for an hour or so before they fall asleep and generate their own fanfictions? And they are super elaborate and you just sit and go through it and wasting precious sleeping time. Reblog if u do.

your opponent is the most selected option. please don't spoil anything in the tags

My brother: you're a parasitic leach on the family

Me: ok, do we have any cheetos?

I’m right and I should say it

The literal cheat cookie

i havent shaved my legs in a really long time and while i was babysitting my skirt edged up a bit and the seven year old i was watching said “ew you should shave that hairs not supposed to be there” and i said “well if its not supposed to be there then why does it grow there?” and he was really silent for a long time and then finally said “lets watch sonic the hedgehog”