01 10 / 2014

30 9 / 2014

"I’m basically the mayor of weird." - Dana Cardinal

30 9 / 2014

vintagegal:

Beetlejuice (1988)

(via cortexiphankid47)

30 9 / 2014

dduane:


The Dour Brotherhood of Quantitative Sorrow was founded three hundred years ago by the Archprimate Lithwick, who taught that misery is visited upon mankind by the gods, and, more importantly, they have a quota.
If the quota is met, then the gods have no cause to go visiting anything beyond the regular sorrows upon the world, and things can proceed smoothly. But if the deadline is rolling around, and the enormous heavenly lake in which the tears of mankind are gathered is running dry, the pilings of grief are showing above the waterline and the shores of sorrow are covered in the beached crabs of mild dismay—well, then the gods panic and wreak havoc upon the world, in the form of fire, flood, famine, or whatever else seems like a good idea at the time.
The goal of the Brotherhood, therefore, is to make sure that Heaven makes its quota, and to this end, they suffer extravagantly, morosely, and as visibly as possible. They wear uncomfortable, itchy clothes, always in blue, because blue is the color of sorrow, and eat terrible, overspiced meals that cause indigestion and the trots. They meditate upon the suffering of the world, in unheated cells, and sleep on unfinished pine boards. They stand absolutely still for prolonged periods of time, which doesn’t sound bad unless you actually try it for an hour or so. They wail. Good god, do they wail.
The attention of spring-maddened bluebirds, driven to frenzies by what appear to be hundreds of GIANT RIVAL BLUEBIRDS, is just one of the job hazards. Of course, when a bluebird is standing on your head singing furiously*, sometimes you just gotta smile, which is why somebody in this painting is about five minutes from losing his job. - Ursula Vernon
—————— 
*It’s a good thing humans don’t speak Bird, or else we probably wouldn’t find these bloodthirsty paeans nearly so charming.


"The beached crabs of mild dismay."  :)

dduane:

The Dour Brotherhood of Quantitative Sorrow was founded three hundred years ago by the Archprimate Lithwick, who taught that misery is visited upon mankind by the gods, and, more importantly, they have a quota.

If the quota is met, then the gods have no cause to go visiting anything beyond the regular sorrows upon the world, and things can proceed smoothly. But if the deadline is rolling around, and the enormous heavenly lake in which the tears of mankind are gathered is running dry, the pilings of grief are showing above the waterline and the shores of sorrow are covered in the beached crabs of mild dismay—well, then the gods panic and wreak havoc upon the world, in the form of fire, flood, famine, or whatever else seems like a good idea at the time.

The goal of the Brotherhood, therefore, is to make sure that Heaven makes its quota, and to this end, they suffer extravagantly, morosely, and as visibly as possible. They wear uncomfortable, itchy clothes, always in blue, because blue is the color of sorrow, and eat terrible, overspiced meals that cause indigestion and the trots. They meditate upon the suffering of the world, in unheated cells, and sleep on unfinished pine boards. They stand absolutely still for prolonged periods of time, which doesn’t sound bad unless you actually try it for an hour or so. They wail. Good god, do they wail.

The attention of spring-maddened bluebirds, driven to frenzies by what appear to be hundreds of GIANT RIVAL BLUEBIRDS, is just one of the job hazards. Of course, when a bluebird is standing on your head singing furiously*, sometimes you just gotta smile, which is why somebody in this painting is about five minutes from losing his job. - Ursula Vernon

—————— 

*It’s a good thing humans don’t speak Bird, or else we probably wouldn’t find these bloodthirsty paeans nearly so charming.

"The beached crabs of mild dismay." :)

30 9 / 2014

threepwillow:

ladies and gentlemen

(via vilevilescorpio)

28 9 / 2014

humansofnewyork:

"I got it for her birthday. I live 1.5 hours away, so I had to bring it on the bus and the subway. It was a little embarrassing."
(Mexico City, Mexico)

humansofnewyork:

"I got it for her birthday. I live 1.5 hours away, so I had to bring it on the bus and the subway. It was a little embarrassing."

(Mexico City, Mexico)

28 9 / 2014

aconnormanning:

maneth985:

fallen-angel-with-a-shotgun:

dajo42:

if you dont have me on facebook you are probably not missing out on any posts but the comment section is important too lmao

I went to the Renaissance faire dressed as a warrior.  I had a real sword with me, too.  I was standing (in character) next to a sword-fighting ring, where kids of all ages got the chance to pick up a sword and challenge the champion.  Some woman walks by, with her little girl.  The girl starts walking towards the ring, saying she wants to fight.  But the mom pulled her away hella sharply, and was like, “That’s for boys.”  You don’t want to be a BOY, do you?”    And the girl looked around and saw me.  I think she thought I was a boy; I had my hair in a ponytail, and was wearing a hood.  So she comes up to me and asks me, “Do you think girls can be fighters, too?”  And her mom looks like she’s silently gloating.  Like she thinks I’m going to say no.  So I take off my hood, untie my hair so that it flows freely, and kneel before her.  And I’m like, “Milady, anyone can be a fighter.”  I swear, the look on that mother’s face made my day.



This post was good but then it got better

aconnormanning:

maneth985:

fallen-angel-with-a-shotgun:

dajo42:

if you dont have me on facebook you are probably not missing out on any posts but the comment section is important too lmao

I went to the Renaissance faire dressed as a warrior.  I had a real sword with me, too.  I was standing (in character) next to a sword-fighting ring, where kids of all ages got the chance to pick up a sword and challenge the champion.  Some woman walks by, with her little girl.  The girl starts walking towards the ring, saying she wants to fight.  But the mom pulled her away hella sharply, and was like, “That’s for boys.”  You don’t want to be a BOY, do you?”    And the girl looked around and saw me.  I think she thought I was a boy; I had my hair in a ponytail, and was wearing a hood.  So she comes up to me and asks me, “Do you think girls can be fighters, too?”  And her mom looks like she’s silently gloating.  Like she thinks I’m going to say no.  So I take off my hood, untie my hair so that it flows freely, and kneel before her.  And I’m like, “Milady, anyone can be a fighter.”  I swear, the look on that mother’s face made my day.

This post was good but then it got better

(via sunsplashedpoet)

28 9 / 2014

erikalynae:

cyberpunk kitten is my new aesthetic

erikalynae:

cyberpunk kitten is my new aesthetic

(Source: tastefullyoffensive, via shadesofmauve)

28 9 / 2014

alandistro:

I don’t ever take screenshots of tweets and post them on tumblr, but damn, I’m feeling this. [x]

alandistro:

I don’t ever take screenshots of tweets and post them on tumblr, but damn, I’m feeling this. [x]

(via edwardspoonhands)

28 9 / 2014