My life right now
I feel like the Hillel E-board does this while in the office.
DO YOU HAVE COMPANY COMING OVER, BUT YOUR HOUSE SMELLS LIKE SMOKE OR YOUR MOLD EXPERIMENTS OR CAT PISS OR SOME BULLSHIT LIKE THAT?
WELL SLAP MY ASS AND CALL ME BRILLIANT, BECAUSE THIS SHIT ISN’T EDIBLE, BUT IT’LL MAKE YOUR HOUSE SMELL LIKE A GODDAMN CHURCH CHOIR SINGING HALLE-FUCKING-LUJAH IN YOUR NASAL PASSAGE! (YOU SHOULD GET RID OF WHATEVER’S STINKING UP YOUR HOUSE IN THE FIRST PLACE AS WELL, MORON)
RUN YOUR CLASSY ASS OVER TO THE STORE AND MAKE SURE YOU’RE PREPARED FOR THE MIND-FUCK OF THIS SHIT. YOU’LL WANT 1 ORANGE, A SMALL BAG OF CRANBERRIES, 3 CINNAMON STICKS, GROUND CLOVES, NUTMEG, 2 LEMONS, ROSEMARY AND VANILLA.
THERE ARE TWO VERSIONS OF THIS THAT YOU CAN COOK, BECAUSE CLASSY-ASS MOTHERFUCKERS NEED VARIETIES IN THEIR LIFE!
THE FIRST IS ‘CHRISTMAS’ AND THE SECOND DOESN’T HAVE A DAMN NAME, BUT IT’S FUCKING WONDERFUL.
ONLY HAVE ONE POT OF THIS SHIT GOING, IT’S CRAZY POWERFUL.
CHOP UP THE ORANGE, SKIN AND ALL, BECAUSE YOU DON’T JOKE AROUND WITH THIS SORT OF SHIT.
USE YOUR WARRIOR STRENGTH TO BREAK THE CINNAMON STICKS IN HALF, LIKE YOUR CHILDHOOD MEMORIES OF SNAPPING THE FEMURS OF DRAGONS BEFORE YOU SUCKED THE MARROW OUT.
THROW THE ORANGE AND CINNAMON STICK PIECES INTO THE POT, OR IF YOU’RE NOT CONFIDENT WITH YOUR AIM, YOU CAN SET THEM GENTLY INSIDE. SHOVE A SMALL SPOONFUL OF NUTMEG AND A SMALL SPOONFUL OF CLOVES INTO THE POT.
THEN FILL THAT FUCKER UP WITH WATER UNTIL THERE’S ONLY AN INCH OF LEEWAY BETWEEN THE WATER AND EDGE, BECAUSE YOU’RE A DAREDEVIL MOTHERFUCKER.
NOW SET YOUR STOVE TO A LOW-MEDIUM SETTING, AND LEAVE IT SITTING THERE TO MARINATE IN IT’S OWN QUIET ACCEPTANCE OF DEATH. DON’T COVER THIS FUCKER, BECAUSE THE SMELL OF IT IS GOING TO INVADE YOUR ENTIRE GODDAMN HOUSE.
THAT WHICH WILL NOT BE NAMED
THE OTHER VERSION OF BOILING POTPOURRI ONLY HAS LEMONS, ROSEMARY SPRIGS AND VANILLA.
RIP THE LEMON INTO CHUNKS WHILE SOLVING THREE UNSOLVED MYSTERIES IN YOUR HEAD AND YELLING AT YOUR FLATMATE TO LEAVE YOUR OTHER EXPERIMENTS ALONE, THEN BE A CHAMPION BY NOT USING A MEASURING TOOL WHEN SPLASHING 1 TABLESPOON OF VANILLA INTO THE POT.
TOSS IN THE ROSEMARY SPRIGS AFTER YOU’VE STARED THEM INTO SUBMISSION.
FILL THAT SUCKER WITH WATER AND PUT IT ON THE HEAT.
YOU LEAVE IT ON FOR 2 HOURS AT THE START OF THE DAY, THEN TURN IT ON AGAIN AN HOUR BEFORE GUESTS GET TO YOUR HOME AND LEAVE IT ON ALL EVENING.
TAKE A WHIFF UP CLOSE EVERY FEW HOURS, BECAUSE THE FRUIT WILL START TO SMELL WEIRD AT THE END OF THE DAY AND THAT’S WHEN YOU TURN IT OFF.
WHEN YOUR GUESTS ARRIVE THEY’LL HAVE TO STEP BACK AND EXCLAIM “HOLY MOTHERFUCKING TITS, THIS IS ONE CLASSY HOME”
Not gonna lie, I’m mostly reblogging this because reading it is so thoroughly enjoyable.
This is a great movie.
What I want to say EVERY SINGLE TIME.
Baristas are paid minimum wage to follow their company’s policies. That includes using whatever terms their company decides on for branding purposes. If you want a frappuccino instead of a frappe, a large instead of a venti, or whatever other thing you wanna call your drink, that’s fine. Your barista? They are paid shitty wages and work shitty hours and have to deal with hundreds of people telling them medium instead of grande, or large instead of venti (which refers to the fact that it is, actually, 20 oz of liquid, meaning you’re being a jackass for no reason).
Your barista isn’t stupid. They know what a fucking ‘large’ is and they know their store’s branding and slang sounds dumb to a lot of people. So how about, instead of being an asshole to a minimum wage worker, you consider why you keep buying $6 coffees instead of making that shit at home.
I’ll say that one more time.
Your barista is not stupid.
They know what a large is, what a medium is, and what a small is.
They also know they can be fired for not toeing the company line. And they can be fired for not standing there and taking the abuse you’re spewing at them.
They are being paid to not fight back. They are being paid to stand there all day and translate medium to grande and venti and large and regular and all while you bitch about the specific words you “have” to use. They are being paid to be welcoming and friendly and nice to you while you call them stupid.
Bitch, I know baristas with Ph.Ds, okay? Back the fuck off.
CAPTAIN AMERICA IN A TURBAN
Vishavjit Singh took to the streets of New York to challenge the way New Yorkers see Superheroes, and the ethnicity behind them. [x]
As I walked down the street, it was like dominoes. People slowed down to get my attention. Fans clustered around me. Parents egged their children next to me for a shot. I urged the kids to strike a superhero pose. In front of the Metropolitan Museum, four well-built African-American men surrounded me with big smiles, hands stretched out, fingers twirled with attitude and me sandwiched between them, striking a pose with my shield and a fist.
Why doesn’t america have any cool cultural customs like this…. other than institutionalized racism,xenophobia and exploitation of basically everyone but the ruling class ?
Icelandic descendants of Vikings singing a hymn in a German train station. They totally need to be on the next Thor soundtrack.
Oh man oh man oh man. 6 guys, and it FILLS THE SPACE. Luck of the architecture - and they know how to pull it off. Nothing is easy making vocal music in a space not built for it. I want to do this kind of thing - randomly perform multipart harmony in public spaces.
And it reminds me of Bjork: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TiN_YTyaNtI
My god this is beautiful.
Oh my god, the bass voice is superb.
This makes me feel so many things. Gods, it’s gorgeous and so evocative and wow. I need to find out what hymn this is.
It’s Hear, Heavenly Creator (I don’t know how that’s spelled in Icelandic, and I don’t have the characters on my keyboard for the letters anyway haha).
It’s… old as balls. Like 11th century old.
This is so blissful to listen too <3
YES ! thank you some logic in schools !
A student blows up at a teacher, drops the F-bomb. The usual approach at Lincoln – and, safe to say, at most high schools in this country – is automatic suspension. Instead, Sporleder sits the kid down and says quietly: “Wow. Are you OK? This doesn’t sound like you. What’s going on?”
He gets even more specific: “You really looked stressed. On a scale of 1-10, where are you with your anger?” The kid was ready. Ready, man! For an anger blast to his face….”How could you do that?” “What’s wrong with you?”…and for the big boot out of school. But he was NOT ready for kindness.
The armor-plated defenses melt like ice under a blowtorch and the words pour out: “My dad’s an alcoholic. He’s promised me things my whole life and never keeps those promises.” The waterfall of words that go deep into his home life, which is no piece of breeze, end with this sentence: “I shouldn’t have blown up at the teacher.” Whoa.
what a radical idea yo
Bam. Kids “misbehave” for actual, real, valid reasons. And have feelings.
But there are moments when one has to choose between living one’s own life, fully, entirely, completely — or dragging out some false, shallow, degrading existence that the world in its hypocrisy demands.
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me when i hear someone talk about musical theatre
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