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Wine is exactly like omegaverse fanfiction
I was GOING to say. That when you read a wine menu and see something like “notes of leather and wet stone” you think “did an insane person write this its grapes” but after youve read about wine and growing regions and the effect of oak barrels on aging and tasted a bunch of stuff and given it some thought you find yourself taking a sip of french syrah and thinking “mmm little bit of leather on the finish there” and all of a sudden that shits not crazy anymore. Youve been cooked in the soup. Youve been living in the monkey house.
With omegaverse fanfic. You -
You get the idea. Do the work for me. Please
Sorry tanuki fucker 91. I will be clearer. You get coated in the slick
i am jiggling a credit card in the door crack. life is a rich tapestry come take my hand we will weave it together.
(via vaspider)
peeling those sour rainbow gummy strips into long thin strings and putting them into cheap energy drink to create something im calling battery acid spaghetti will update once ive finished it
dont do this
I really hope its not too bad bc i actually love both components.
it forms a dry skin at the top made of the sour pellets. not a great start.
tastes really good actually. i also feel like i am about to explode.
do not do this.
(via johannestevans)
I suppose the real villain of the locked tomb universe is whatever dumbass government employee took one look at john ‘both of his best friends independently thought he was on hard drugs and he’s streaming himself performing necromancy live on twitch right now poggers’ gaius and was like “sure I’ll hand that guy a nuke”
The other thing about rage as an addiction is that it likes to cloak itself in feelings of righteousness. Like, yeah, there’s the stereotypical white male gamebro who needs to invent/buy into elaborate conspiracy theories about how Cultural Marxist SJWs are trying to replace the white race by doing an all-female Ghostbusters remake or whatever in order to justify the amount of time and energy that they put into hating it; or the Twitter dogpiler who needs to conflate “having bad opinions about cartoon series” with “being a pedophile” so that they don’t feel like a bully; but there’s also self-abusing by looking up hateful, bigoted opinions that pertain specifically to people like you so that you can sputter and rage and feel attacked and reinforce your sense of identity because look at the assholes who are attacking you!
What you need is a sort of cutoff frequency in your own brain; just little voice that says, “That’s irrelevant; move on.”
I also think that you can’t underestimate the value of rage as a sort of community building exercise. It neatly divides the world into an in-group of righteous folks just like you who are just minding their own business and an out-group of evil villains who are trying to destroy you / the things that you love for nefarious purposes. In an era when communities of all kinds have eroded away under neoliberal atomization, even this illusory, self-destructive feeling of Belonging can be intoxicating.
(via johannestevans)
padme ran a nation at 14, she figures it’s probably fine for ahsoka to do a few donuts in a hyundai elantra [ID in alt text]
(via blackkatmagic)
Odin doesn’t understand why I keep the perfect cozy cave called “the wardrobe “ closed.
The cats love that I sew but don’t much want me to do actual sewing, which interferes with their access to the ironing board, fabric, lovely crinkly paper patterns, etc. Odin scared me half to death yesterday by stepping on the foot pedal while I was pinning, so that the machine ran with no one sitting at it. Here we see them lurking after I finished for the day. I wish they wouldn’t nap wrapped around the sewing machine like that.
she’s sooo fucking mad that we stop her from running into the garage to huff sawdust and poisons




















