probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
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So a while ago I was talking to @anna-scribbles and @marimbles about adrien and gender (as you do), and as a part of that conversation we said... hey do you remember that jenna marbles video where she put rhinestones all over her face?
and then, tangentially... do you remember that one clown makeup vine?
hold on i'm going somewhere with this:
We got to where I was going. but i'm still driving:
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Apparently much-needed reminder that reposting artists' art (by saving the images or screenshotting them and reuploading them yourself) on other platforms without the artists' expressed permission and without credit is theft and an insult to their passion and craft. You are profiting (in views, in attention, in feedback) from someone else's work and ideas, who do not get that feedback for sharing their creation.
If you are an art reposter, you are a thief and I have no respect for you.
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realtalk but when i see dudes on steam or ppl on tumblr talking about how disco elysium made them feel pathetic and uncomfortable i just. i don’t know. i cannot relate to that at all. disco elysium is about an alcoholic amnesiac poet in love with a dying city who loves him back. if i had never been an alcoholic, if i had never been suicidally depressed, maybe i would think the world of disco elysium is a bleak one. but when you know what it’s like to go through that darkness and come out of it again? to fall back in love with a world that almost destroyed you? disco elysium is the most hopeful story imaginable. it sees the world for what it is and holds nothing back, none of the horror, none of the wonder, none of the love…
something about art comforting the disturbed and disturbing the comfortable i dunno
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i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD
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“[k.d. lang] is a woman who was clearly born to perform.”
“Not that you’d necessarily know she’s a woman at first sight. Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a black cutaway coat flecked with gold, black pants, and her favorite steel-toed black rubber shitkicker work boots, she looks more like a cowboy. Her glossy dark hair is full but short, and when she tosses her head and strides across the stage on those long, strong legs, you suddenly realize she’s moving with a kind of physical freedom you’ve never seen a female singer display onstage before.” (Leslie Bennetts, 1993)
[VANITY FAIR, AUGUST 1ST 1993]
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