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  • ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

    ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

    ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

    ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

    ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

    ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

    ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

    ladyshinga:

    scribbleowl:

    hyenaspotz:

    @WorstMuse

    I couldn’t remember how I had arrived at that dark place. The last thing I recalled was going to a student’s house, a nubile young thing whose beauty stoked the fires of my aging passion.

    “How did I get here?” I said quietly, distantly to myself. This dank cave was no place for an esteemed professor of English literature, the most glorious and noble of all the Earth’s tongues.

    There was a pool of water, and I washed my face in it. Staring at my reflection, I noticed a cast to my eyes, as if some great thing were floating upon their surface like a person could float upon the Dead Sea.

    Suddenly, there she was. My student. The soft, ivory tone of her flesh still stirred something within me.

    “You are here,” she said cryptically. Something was wrong. Her… curves were in all the wrong places. There, in the darkness, it was as if the contours of her youthful body did not conform to the Euclidean laws of the universe, bending and twisting in ways out of the corners of my eyes. Her head tilted to the side and that mouth opened, revealing teeth and eyes far within…

    She wasn’t like other girls, I thought, screaming.

    ok but this is marvelous

    Reblogging again because that was fucking beautiful

  • shadesofmauve:

    Okay. I think we’re done.

    There’s a tiny bit of space there, you could get some alpines or…or seeds. So many seeds….

  • Help

    I have been shown a car that hits all my weak spots whilst on the search for the perfect sensible car:

    – It’s a car I’ve always fancied owning
    – It’s sad and looks like it needs love
    – It’s hyper efficient
    – It’s cool
    – It’s probably going to be a pigging nightmare to get spares for

    Thankfully the owner seems to have vastly unrealistic impressions of how much it’s worth.

  • Pennsylvania & Medical Marijuana — SB 1182

    Pennsylvania & Medical Marijuana — SB 1182

    vaspider:

    Hello, Fellow Pennsylvanians. Please take a moment of time and hear me out about something that’s very important to me: SB 1182. Specifically, this is the bill to legalize and regulate medical marijuana in the state of Pennsylvania.

    “But, but! Weed! I couldn’t possibly support…

  • Standards (slipping)

    In the majority of the house I’ve worked really hard to do things to a good standard. Not an exceptional standard, but a very adequate standard. We’ve employed good (or at least reasonable) builders who’ve done work that I’ve been satisfied with. Our plasterer was really good, our electrician and plumbers were exceptional.

    But there are a couple of areas where things could have been a little better. I could have insulated under the lounge floor before they refinished it; that would have been a good plan. We could have had under floor heating in the kitchen. And we could have tiled the bathroom floor rather than using lino.

    But in all honesty, the areas where we’ve shaved a touch off to save money have been pretty minimal. And the effects have mainly been well hidden.

    But there is one area where we have ignored the problem. The outbuilding (was once a kitchen extension) is just attrocious quality. Really dreadful. And that’s fine, it’s been tied in to the rest of the house at some point, so we’re not worried that it’ll suddenly fall down, but it is just shonky as all hell. And one of its “features” is that the doorframe is vastly unsquare.

    I mean, it’s not even close to square. It may have a distant aunt that had once heard of a rectangle. The builders looked at it and discovered that, as was common for buildings of that sort at the time it was probably built, the top of the doorframe, that jauntily angled piece of wood, that is the lintel. So to take it down would require using acros and all sorts of exciting fun.

    So instead they took the scabbiest piece of wood they could find, roughly planed it down and slapped it on to the top of the door frame to make it sort-of-square, so we could fit a new (reclaimed, square) door. The old one being more rotten than our compost heap.

    And lo I finally got to trying to paint it. Yes, I have left it nearly 2 years.

    It now consists of a large quantity of filler to try and make it all blend in. I could have taken it off, made a nicer bit of wood, put it back with it all being much closer to the right size. But no, I’ve spent probably longer than it would’ve taken me to cut and plane a better bit of wood to fill the space with filler. So that was wise.

    Never mind. The main target of this fun activity is actually the bit of wood that makes up part of the roof trim, which I’m hoping to start work on tomorrow. I didn’t want to be clambering around on the deck on a ladder with Kathryn not here though. Just in case I decide to try and fall off it. Y’know. Like you do.

    So anyhow, there’ll be pictures, at some point. When it’s finished and looks respectable, and not like a heap of filler stuck to a doorframe.

    I think I’ve fixed many of the house’s problems, I’ve got some work to do on the render that I’m going to do properly, too, so I’m inclined to say I can leave this one to the next owner to solve… which’ll probably be when they want to have a proper extension built.

  • knitmeapony:

    bocchan:

    karhide:

    windandsalt:

    friarpark

    #this is not an exaggeration okay #children do say this #children do wonder why they can’t find themselves in the media #don’t fucking tell me it doesn’t matter #it matters so much #children NEED to see themselves represented #or else they grow up feeling inferior and not worthy

    okay, story time: i’m a resident actor a children’s theatre company, and we just did peter pan. i was cast as peter because i’m the only one who looks young enough to play the part; but aside from looking young, i look nothing like peter pan. he’s this little white boy with reddish brown hair and i’m an arab/hispanic queer with black hair and freckles. 

    our company has a really devoted following, and these kids are reeeally young. after every show, we do autographs as the characters and have to keep up the act, because to a lot of these really young kids, we are who we pretend to be on stage. that terrified me. i’ve done autograph sessions in-character before, but never as such a well-loved character. who, again, is white. i was worried about what children might say.

    over the course of the production, we must have performed for close to 500 kids, between the shows we did for families and the shows we did for school field trips.

    and i distinctly remember one little white girl who came up to me with a DVD copy of disney’s peter pan, and she had this adorable tinkerbell dress on, and she just stared at me wide-eyed and after a while she said “i have all your movies!!”

    first of all, if you don’t think that’s the cutest thing ever, please leave.

    and when i asked her what she wanted me to sign, she handed me her DVD and said “by your face.” and she points right at this little white redheaded peter pan with pointy ears who is clearly not me, as if she can’t tell the difference… or she can, and she doesn’t care. similar things happened with different children, but it never lost its charm for me. on the contrary, it really warmed my heart.

    by that same token there were many children of color who were affected by seeing a brown peter pan. a lot of them (usually older children) and/or their parents ask me how i got into acting, and if i had any advice for how to get into it. it meant a lot to me that there’s this whole generation of children of color who are going to pursue the arts, because even though i live in a very diverse area, our theatre landscape is still very whitewashed.

    anyway, what i’m trying to say isn’t just that representation matters, which it does. what i’m also trying to say is that one less white face in the crowd isn’t going to hurt anyone. i feel like i’ve heard time and again that white people can only identify with white characters, and the whole point of my story is that that’s obviously not true. that kind of behavior, where people only empathize with characters who look like them, has to be taught. and that kind of behavior is racism.

    bolding is mine, because that last bit really knocked it out of the park for me

    “I have all your movies” Oh my GOD. *dead *

    knitmeapony:

    bocchan:

    karhide:

    windandsalt:

    friarpark

    #this is not an exaggeration okay #children do say this #children do wonder why they can’t find themselves in the media #don’t fucking tell me it doesn’t matter #it matters so much #children NEED to see themselves represented #or else they grow up feeling inferior and not worthy

    okay, story time: i’m a resident actor a children’s theatre company, and we just did peter pan. i was cast as peter because i’m the only one who looks young enough to play the part; but aside from looking young, i look nothing like peter pan. he’s this little white boy with reddish brown hair and i’m an arab/hispanic queer with black hair and freckles. 

    our company has a really devoted following, and these kids are reeeally young. after every show, we do autographs as the characters and have to keep up the act, because to a lot of these really young kids, we are who we pretend to be on stage. that terrified me. i’ve done autograph sessions in-character before, but never as such a well-loved character. who, again, is white. i was worried about what children might say.

    over the course of the production, we must have performed for close to 500 kids, between the shows we did for families and the shows we did for school field trips.

    and i distinctly remember one little white girl who came up to me with a DVD copy of disney’s peter pan, and she had this adorable tinkerbell dress on, and she just stared at me wide-eyed and after a while she said “i have all your movies!!”

    first of all, if you don’t think that’s the cutest thing ever, please leave.

    and when i asked her what she wanted me to sign, she handed me her DVD and said “by your face.” and she points right at this little white redheaded peter pan with pointy ears who is clearly not me, as if she can’t tell the difference… or she can, and she doesn’t care. similar things happened with different children, but it never lost its charm for me. on the contrary, it really warmed my heart.

    by that same token there were many children of color who were affected by seeing a brown peter pan. a lot of them (usually older children) and/or their parents ask me how i got into acting, and if i had any advice for how to get into it. it meant a lot to me that there’s this whole generation of children of color who are going to pursue the arts, because even though i live in a very diverse area, our theatre landscape is still very whitewashed.

    anyway, what i’m trying to say isn’t just that representation matters, which it does. what i’m also trying to say is that one less white face in the crowd isn’t going to hurt anyone. i feel like i’ve heard time and again that white people can only identify with white characters, and the whole point of my story is that that’s obviously not true. that kind of behavior, where people only empathize with characters who look like them, has to be taught. and that kind of behavior is racism.

    bolding is mine, because that last bit really knocked it out of the park for me

    “I have all your movies” Oh my GOD. *dead *

  • comedycentral:

    Click here for more of Jon Stewart’s coverage of the recent House Committee on Science, Space and Technology hearing.

    comedycentral:

    Click here for more of Jon Stewart’s coverage of the recent House Committee on Science, Space and Technology hearing.

    comedycentral:

    Click here for more of Jon Stewart’s coverage of the recent House Committee on Science, Space and Technology hearing.

    comedycentral:

    Click here for more of Jon Stewart’s coverage of the recent House Committee on Science, Space and Technology hearing.

    comedycentral:

    Click here for more of Jon Stewart’s coverage of the recent House Committee on Science, Space and Technology hearing.

    comedycentral:

    Click here for more of Jon Stewart’s coverage of the recent House Committee on Science, Space and Technology hearing.

  • Anyone for a list of compromises?

    So, many of the cars I was interested in have sold. I really wish people would take down their adverts (and also, don’t you dare sound grumpy at me if you’ve got a personal ad up and you’ve sold the car).

    Basically the choices in the Hybrid category are, in order of preference:

    Gen 2 Prius: Pretty much ideal for our needs, except it’s the size of a whale.

    Gen 1 Prius: Not a hatchback, way less supported, worse fuel economy than a Gen 2, interior is crappy 10-year-old world of plastic.

    Honda (mainly Civic) IMA: Only managed to find manuals (don’t even know if it was sold with an auto box), fuel economy no better than a Gen 1 Prius, anecdotally badly supported by Honda garages – ones in my price range are at same age as most Gen 1 Prii. Also, not a hatchback, but better interior than the Gen 1 Prius.

    Special case Honda IMA: The Insight – much the same but has boot space and decent MPG (high 80s), but only 2 seats. I can live with everything else, but only 2 seats means it’s only any good for a year.

  • It GROWS

    So, the LGBTQ Film collection continues to grow with a bit of an order I placed. I’ve been looking for Cloudburst for a while and I finally found a non-Amazon company that says they have it in stock. They also have 52 Tuesdays available (the Region 4 edition) so hopefully that can wing its way over at the same time.

    Mind you, my previous non-Amazon order (from MovieMail) of ParaNorman has yet to arrive.

    I am quite looking forward to it. It would be doubly awesome if they arrive before we go on holiday so I can take them up to watch half way up a mountain :)

  • Oh, of course

    I finally steel myself to spend money on train tickets and go view these cars spending a day trailing all about Nodnol, and of course, can’t reach one vendor, another says the car’s still at the aircon service and the third is a car that I’m only interested in viewing if the other two are sheddy.

    Feh.