i always thought of a king sized bed as being a bit bigger than a queen, but now that i have one, i can tell you that a king sized bed is an absurdity. i can sprawl out, and my husband can sprawl out, and the cat can sprawl out, and none of us are touching. i reach out in the night, and find only pillows and plush walruses. i reach further and eventually find his elbow. he rolls over the comforters to try and find me. “i have crossed oceans of bed to be with you,” he says. there is a vast expanse of bed untouched, unmapped, unexplored. the cat is still trying to sleep on my face.
this man is like midas but with knives instead of gold, he can make anything a knife, sicssor knives ,ice knives, cardboard knives, tiny knives if it can be made into a knife he will do it, and if he cant, he will do it anyway because fuck you
This doesn’t even have the best one. One time he made a knife out of ravioli then proceeded to use the knife made out of ravioli to cut up cheese and tomatoes and basil and shit then took the ravioli knife that he had used to cut up his other ingredients and cooked said knife with those ingredients and ate the fucking knife!
The empty fridge that only contains Jack Daniels Chocolate
That one time a bear figurine possessed with a demon would attack him if he didn’t pet it so he had to build a machine that constantly rolled the bear against brushes so he would be safe long enough to finish the knife
Hello, Raven!
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When my oldest cat, Misha, was younger, she was an indoor cat. The people I rented the apartment from didn’t want her running around their house. I took her out in a leash and we started to go on long walks. We have a hiking trail close by that went up to a small water. We stopped there and a friend of mine held the leash while I went for a swim.
When I got a bit out, I heard Misha meowing. I turned to look at her and tried to let her know I was okay. She was frantic and stood right by the water. I started to go back to comfort her when she jumped in. I told my friend to let go of the leash and she swam out to me, meowing to let me know that she was coming, it was the cutest thing I have ever seen! I even have pictures
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Thank you for requesting a funny cat story, I hope this one is good enough
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ALSO if someone starts giving you 5 dollars and then they say “hey never mind I dont wanna give you the 5 dollars anymore”, taking the 5 dollars is stealing
straight boys are weak and pathetic, queer girls walk into the ladies changing room and see ten women naked, do they stare? do they say something inappropriate? do they make them uncomfortable? no because they have the common fucking sense to recognise when a situation is sexual and that people deserve the most basic level of respect to not be harassed, yet here we are banning shorts and low cut tops in school because straight boys are weak and pathetic
floozys
okay i made this post this morning and it has since had eighty two thousand notes, it’s been featured on reddit, facebook, twitter i’ve been sent multiple death threats and messages that i don’t even want to describe
and i have to apologise
i’ve seen the error of my ways
straight boys are not ’weak and pathetic’
straight boys are weak, pathetic and fucking annoying
Updates have since come on this subject; we now know where the goats came from and I gotta tell you, it is better than you could possibly imagine. See.
These goats got loose from a goat rental service.
You may be thinking, who rents a goat? Who rents a hundred goats? What are they for?
They’re for eating.
Specifically, they’re for eating unwanted, flammable vegetation that can contribute to the spread of wildfires. Some people whose property tends to grow such vegetation, keep their own goats. But for some people it works out better to just rent some goats.
So.
These are Professional Eating Goats. They are trained to thoroughly and methodically scour an area of plantlife. And they came to the suburbs.
Watching this (and fearing broken ankles with each loop) I can’t helping thinking about that old quote Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, except backwards and in high heels.
aprilsvigil
But no, if you watch closely you’ll see she doesn’t even step on the last chair. That means she had to trust that fucker to lift her gently to the ground while he was spinning down onto that chair. That takes major guts. I’d be pissing myself and fearing a broken neck if I were in her place. Kudos to her.
Okay so this is true, but a tiny part of a wider truth.
Ginger Rogers was a FUCKING BADASS. Ignore for a sec the rampant sexism in Hollywood (they once bleached her hair blonde in wardrobe without telling her beforehand), the fact that she fought her whole career against typecasting and stereotyping from fellow actors (Katharine Hepburn famously said of the Astaire/Rogers partnership “she gave him sex. He gave her class” ) for starting out in musicals, and went on to have a career lasting over fifty years, winning a Best Actress Oscar (Kitty Foyle, 1940). But… JUST focusing on the Astaire movies…
Not only did she dance “backwards” in high heels, the dances were a task in themselves. Astaire was an absolute perfectionist and choreographed for himself, so as a younger, less experienced dancer Rogers came in at a disadvantage and worked her ass off to match him.
Then there’s the filming complications… these numbers were filmed in ONE TAKE. So one thing goes wrong and you have to start over. Maybe you make a mistake or maybe your dress flies up because…
Ginger had to contend with her wardrobe. Dancing in heels is the norm at this time, but dancing in a dress designed for cinema cameras… not so much. They were heavy, embellished, uncomfortable, restrictive and cumbersome and essentially a third member of the dance, strapped to the body of one partner.Not only did she have to dance and look good, she had to control the dress too!
Take this routine from Swing Time… (it gets going proper at 1:30ish)
This dress has weights, YES WEIGHTS, sewn in to the hem to make it fly out and create a visual effect. So it’s heavy, it hurts if it hits you, and your partner gets mad if it hits him. So you gotta control it.
Well it turns out all these factors on this set, this particular day aren’t going so well. So you’re doing take after take, here’s no labour laws, so at 4am after 18 hours you’re still going, even though part of the routine requires you to spin up those curved stairs with no rail at high speed….
Okay so now back to those high heels. In Ginger’s autobiography she vividly remembers this night as the night she bled though her shoes. They did so many takes, her feet blistered, bled, and the white satin high heels she was wearing finished he night pink because they were literally full of blood. And still they keep shooting. She keeps dancing.
The take they use in the film is the last. Early hours. Bloody feet. And she spins, acts and bosses out until that last second. Because she was that professional, talented and bloody minded. This is the last set of spins…
So I say once again. Ginger Rogers was a badass.
She did everything Fred Astaire did backwards, in high heels, wearing a 20 pound dress, exhausted, injured and standing in a pool of her own blood. And watching her perform, you would never know.
so the cah pride pack has options for buying it “with glitter" and “without glitter” and knowing cards against humanity they just tip like 3 tablespoons of fucking glitter into the pack of cards and send it out
