everyone on r/aita is doing polyamory so wrong and i think they could learn something from tommyinnit. I'm not going to say hes doing it any better but he is being really funny about it
sorry the first one is soo. hadestown. how am i supposed to be normal about this
“you came” “you called” vs. “you called my name” “you came”
don’t fckung. do this to me. everything hurts.
If i drew enough reunion hugs in preparation, one of them had to be accurate! (4 of 6 is pretty good!)
reblog if you:
- are aromantic and want to kill
- think aromantic people should be allowed to kill
- think fish are pretty cool
This pride month y’all have got to offset your doomposting with some gay fun you’ve had. And if you haven’t had any gay fun then you need to stop doomposting and work on that. I know we’re descending into fascism and there’s always kink at pride discourse and threats of violence and actual violence and hollow corporate allyship. But I only have so much room for that in my brain. I want to hear about the party you went to or the guy you met at the bar or the girl who strapped you within an inch of your life or hell the new clothes you bought. I as a gay person on the gay people website should NOT have to dread the gay month
Reblog to let your followers know that they’re safe from jumpscares/screamers/etc from you on April 1st but they are NOT safe from getting boop’d like an idiot amen
i made a character uquiz. i 100% promise you that you will get a character you know AND like
cashier: ok that'll be $20
me (visibly sweating): ah, yes, of course! a perfectly reasonable price for a grilled cheese and a small smoothie! that was exactly the price i expected you to say when i ordered a single grilled cheese and a smoothie and my vision is NOT getting blurry as we speak! i am a perfectly normal temperature and my speech patterns are natural and even because this is the countenance of an individual who expected to pay 20 american dollars for a single grilled cheese and a smoothie!
cashier: where's all that blood coming from
The Least Intimidating bakery in the village has closed for good so now I’ve got to go to the Intimidating Bakery, it’s awful. If you don’t have a PhD in being French I don’t recommend going to that bakery, here’s the humiliating account of the 3 times I’ve visited it so far:
the first time I went in there I pointed at one of those extra-skinny baguettes and said “a flute, please” feeling pretty sure of myself, and the baker said “… that’s a ficelle” (you idiot) (was implied) “a flute is twice as large as a baguette.”
That’s insane, first of all, a flute is a skinny instrument. Call your fat baguette a bassoon, lady—I made some timid remark about how it would make more sense for a flute to be a skinny bread and the baker said, “In Paris it is. I thought you were from the South?”
oh, that hurt
I guess I’m from the part of the South that’s so close to Italy the bread’s waist size matters less than whether it’s got olives in it, but I left the bakery having an existential crisis over whether living in Paris had made me forget my roots
the Least Intimidating Bakery just had normal baguettes vs. seedy baguettes vs. horny baguettes (easy mode, some have seeds, some have horns), while the new bakery has breads that are only different on a molecular level—there’s a good old loaf and then another, identical loaf called a bastard? google told me a bastard is “halfway between a baguette and a bread” but denouncing them like “those are not regulation-sized bastards” would get me banned from the bakery for life
on my 2nd visit (while I stood in line discreetly googling baguette terminology) there was an English tourist who asked for a baguette while pointing at what was either a rustique or a sesame and I felt a bit worried for them, but the baker just clarified “this one?” to waive any responsibility if they found out later it wasn’t a classic baguette, then handed them the bread without educating them in a judgmental tone and I felt envious
I know it’s because she thinks the English are beyond saving but still it made me want to come back with a fake moustache and an English accent so I wouldn’t be expected to play bakery on expert mode just because I’m French. I asked for a pastry this time and the baker asked “no bread with that?” which felt cruel, like she wanted me to sprinkle myself with ashes and admit out loud that my level of bread proficiency isn’t as advanced as I once believed it was
The third time I went, I had lost all self-confidence and I hesitantly pointed at a bread and said “I’d like this, uh—what is it called?” and the baker looked at me in disbelief and said “That’s a baguette.”
God.
for the record, if that stupid bread had been flanked by a skinny bread (ficelle) and a fat one (flute) then yeah of course I would have known to call it a baguette, but in the absence of reference points I now felt lost and scared of being called a Parisian again
it’s hard to express the depth of my suffering so I’ll just let the facts speak for themselves: this morning a French person (me) stood in a French bakery in France surrounded by French people and pointed at a baguette and said “what is this called”
the baseball we deserve
(this is the savannah bananas. they dance. they wear kilts. they Love The Boys. also they have a dance team made up of seniors called the banana nanas, a "dad bod cheerleading squad", the man-nanas, and a charity organisation focused on foster care called bananas foster)
i may be physically deteriorating, but at least i’m mentally falling apart
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