msmarygoodnight
Good Night, Mary
dazzling ray of sunshine
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Untitled.
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And now, a limerick.
A foolish young woman named Lydia
Fell for George Wickham's perfidia
"Though she caught her a man,"
Her sister began,
"Would be better if she caught chlamydia"
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I think people should have to work a year of food service and a year of retail so they learn how to treat workers like humans.
If you don't do a year of food service, you can still go to restaurants, but you are not allowed to special order anything, and gratuity will be automatically applied to your bill.
If you don't do a year of retail, you are not allowed to use any discounts or do any exchanges or returns.
If you think this is unnecessary or extreme, prove me wrong by being kind to people who are just trying to do their jobs.
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I wonder how many jobs that we view as soul-crushing, painful slogs would actually be enjoyable and fulfilling if we did away with toxic "the customer is always right" culture that rewards terrible people for abusing staff.
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Oh to be a witch taking to sea in a boat made of an empty egg shell
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Sometimes I get so invested in the love triangle in a novel I'm reading, I have to stop and remind myself that the protagonist isn't a friend of mine who is still hung up on the fuckboi who betrayed her for some goddamn reason, and, in fact, neither she nor the fuckboi actually exist.
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Wondering what fresh hell awaits you at work is bad
But knowing what stale hell awaits you at work is also pretty bad
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Me: I wish Wheel of Fortune used picture-in-picture so the puzzle was always on the screen.
Genie: You know you only get three of these, right?
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What's your favorite piece of movie advice?
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Me: I love when people make changes to source material to adapt it for the screen, because it keeps it fresh and surprising, and helps translate the story to a new form of media.
Me, thinking about season two of Bridgerton: if Newton is not in this show, it will literally ruin my entire life.
#bridgerton#the viscount who loved me#julia quinn#regency romance#corgi#we know who the real hero is
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It's weird in action movies where someone will tell the spy exactly what color wire to cut in the bomb that was assembled out of their view by the villains, as though there is some sort of standardization in wire colors amongst terrorists that they learn in Bombs 101 or something. Is that a real thing?
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I often make work small talk about whatever new show I watched, but I haven't done it with Bridgerton, because it feels awkward to be like, "hey, customer or colleague, have you also been enjoying watching people in period formalwear getting ABSOLUTELY RAILED?"
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It's gotta be something to be a late night host, ready to start your monologue about covid deaths and an attempted coup, thinking
"I... wanted to be a comedian."
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Astrological Signs as Showtunes reprise
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Astrological Signs as Showtunes pt. 1
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Getting ready to go on a feels trip like
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When Harry Met Sally - Falsifying Spiritualist Paroxysm
A note from the writer: Our period is late. Do not be concerned, we feel a vigorous spiritual paroxysm shall soon set us to rights. Please enjoy this special edition of Victorian Rom Coms.
Sally looked archly at Harry across their table in the crowded tea room.
“You know that I have the gift myself, and I can assure you that all those who have a sensitivity to the other have had to exaggerate or falsify their experiences to end a meeting which is proving unfruitful. Do you mean to tell me, sir, that you believe the medium has achieved full communion with the spirit world in every seance you have attended? ”
Harry returned her look with a sardonic smile.
“I was there. I believe I would know if they were manufacturing their fits of contact with the beyond simply for my benefit.”
Calmly, Sally set aside her tea cup. She then began clutch at the lace tablecloth, moaning quietly. Her moans grew louder and more insistent as her eyes rolled back and she grasped at the high neck of her linen tea dress.
“Oh, oh, oh! I feel a presence. Yes, here! Right Here! Here is a presence from the beyond! Oh, spirits! Spirits, yes! Come to us! Spirits! OH, SPIRITS!”
She then returned immediately to her previous state of composure and sipped her tea, glancing at an incredulous Harry with an attitude of serene innocence. The tea house was silent, the patrons astounded by the display.
A dowager, who had been observing Sally’s demonstration from a neighboring table, signaled the waiter.
“Please bring me, sir, a portion of whichever dish it is that was served to that young lady.”
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