Maybe Jesus didn’t like to talk about it because it wasn’t the same kind of car as his Dad’s.
Because as we all know, God drove Adam and Eve out of the Garden in His Fury.
Nah, clearly God drives Dodge pickup trucks, because Moshe’s people are told not to approach the mountain “until the Ram’s horn sounds a long blast” -Exodus 19:13.
There’s a bit in Fellowship where Bilbo mentions (in like friendly slightly cantankerous old man fashion) getting Aragorn to help him with something and this brings two things to mind:
The absolutely delightful image of little old man Bilbo bossing the Rightful Heir to the Reunited Kingdom around, getting him to get stuff from high shelves for him and such
The plausibility that Bilbo met little 11 year old Estel the first or second time he came to Rivendell and on that subject WHERE are the fanworks
Little 11 year old Estel insisting he be the one to show Bilbo around Imladris because there’s FINALLY someone shorter than him around and he wants to bask in the experience
oh shit yeah and I thought the elves would find it tough to take the High King of Reunited Gondor and Arnor seriously since they’ve known him since he was a brat kid but so had Bilbo
I don’t think Bilbo ever went to Minas Tirith after the war but I wish he had so that the assembled gentry of Gondor could witness the King of the Reunited Kingdom being ordered to fetch that book of poetry down from the highest shelf, there’s a good lad
Aragorn opening a state dinner with a blessing in Elvish, Bilbo interrupting to correct his pronunciation,
And the correction is dead wrong, Aragorn grew up speaking Sindarin and Bilbo learned it well into middle age, but what’s Aragorn gonna do?? Object??? Bilbo has too much stubborn old man energy
he talks to Aragorn in the same voice he uses with Hobbit children, despite Aragorn being 87 years old
Arwen is complicit in ALL of this in fact she is an active enabler
Bilbo, testily: you’re getting the vowels all wrong!
Arwen, nodding seriously: he’s right you know
ELROND: yes, can confirm
FARAMIR: (wearily, without much spirit) stop BULLYING him
Legolas alternated between losing it in the background and making comments like “oh yes Aragorn, your dialect is atrocious”which is the worst for Aragorn because “you are from Mirkwood!”
Does anyone else love bad weather? Like the kind that’s loud and dark and draws attention to its self like pounding rain drops and thunder and lightning that seems just so close. And you can sit near a window and it’s dark outside and maybe you’ve got a candle lit or a lamp and it’s so warm inside and you’re wearing you’re favourite sweater and watching a good show or reading a good book and it’s beautiful outside the rain and the clouds and the sound of it all and you’re just so content and cosy and happy
I realized, while looking through my archive, that I never told you guys specifically why I’m the gin aunt.
Anyone want storytime?
Share ballades
okay so like, here we go
4 years ago I decided to take a solo trip to visit my best friend, M (when I tell this story in meatspace I have to specify that my best friend and I share the same name, and I’m not talking about myself in the 3rd person). She had had twins the year before, and when that happened I surprised her by showing up and helping out and passing on some Motherly Knowledge, and was bestowed the title of aunt.
Anyway yeah it was 4 years ago and the giant storm had just passed in Boston and there were 9 foot tall banks of snow on the streets from the plows that had gone by (and then given up, I guess) and plastic lawn chairs everywhere to save parking spots. I’d also decided, while I was up in Boston, to swing by Essex to visit a friend who also owned a company I’d done some product work for.
The first night was great; we slid right back into being besties and it was like time had never passed for us. The second day dawned, and that was the day M was going to drive us all up to Essex to visit E, and maybe buy some slings because what else does the leader of a baby sling group do when at her friend’s sling business? Buy some damn slings.
Everything went fine. M’s babies were the toast of the town. I got some product photography in. Partway through E said to me, “Hey, you want a drink? I’ve got some gin and other stuff here.” Of course I agreed. I don’t turn down drinks and I wasn’t driving.
So E got out her drink-making-apparatuses which really just consisted of a huge fucking bottle of gin, coffee mugs, and those really fancy large ice cubes. After a minute she handed me the mug and went, “I made this a little strong, sorry!” Having abused my liver back in my 20s I just scoffed and told her I’d be fine.
I drank it. It was indeed strong. Maybe I had a second, I don’t know.
I was started to buzz when we left the store. Partway back to Boston, the gin hit me. Like it reared up and punched me in the face and holy shit, M’s new minivan was sweet as hell and it had the live sideview cam so you can see your blindspot and M, did you know? did you know how sweet your car is?
Of course she knew. And then another urge pressed upon me.
“M,” I said. “I kind of have to pee.”
“Oh, M!” she said in a super cheery voice, because that’s how she is. Literally the most chipper person I know. “You can pee in my car, that’s okay.”
I said it then and I’ll say it now: what the fuck?
“I don’t care how drunk I am,” I declared, “I’m not peeing in your car.”
“No it’s totally fine! You can just pee in my car!”
“You just got this car! I’m not peeing in your car!”
“If you have to go just go! I’m okay with it!”
I held it because no act of God could ever get me to piss in the back of my best friend’s car while roaringly drunk. We got back to Boston, where I hopped gingerly out of the car and began shimmying my way up ice-covered sidewalks and steep concrete Boston stairs.
in honor of my kid’s birthday and telling this story, i have just drunk some gin. clink clink, everybody!
I took a younger friend to a national dance conference when I was 21 and she was 18. Third night of the week was THE party night; I swear, it was like every college movie party scene, only with better liquor.
Anyways, I’m having a good time, putting down Aviations like soda and angling to make a move on the guy I had a massive crush on, when I realize I hadn’t seen younger friend in a while.
I take myself out of the room party, track younger friend down in another room party, and put her safely to bed before going back out. Later, I barely refrain from kissing the crush* and both brush my teeth and change into pjs before passing out.
*long and complicated story, kissing him while drunk would not have had good repercussions.
drunk big sister power move! you are a kindred spirit.
This is still one of the funniest fucking things I’ve ever read
Marvel directors: Even when actors like Chris Evans do their own stunts, we make sure they’re VERY wired in and rehearse a lot before filming. We also add dangerous weapons in in post so there’s no chance of danger, even with a prop. 🙂
Good Omens directors: We’re making David Tennant DRIVE A FLAMING CAR and IF HE DIES, HE DIES
OMG guys. I must have been going back and forth on the Good Omens episodes too much (a shock, I know) that Amazon Prime couldn’t take it anymore and had a glitch. Basically, the subtitles of episode 1 were slapped onto the visuals of episode 6. I was about to refresh until I realized that watching the episode this way brought some absolute gems:
(Snake sushi, I guess)
(asdhasjkldhkajsdhksjadh)
(I laughed so hard I nearly woke my mom on the second floor)
(Mood)
(…okay…?)
(That is what’s happening, yes)
(Yay demon bathing in holy water)
(accidental spoiler)
After I exited onto the main page and refreshed the problem went away. I just thought it was hilarious to the point I just watched the entire episode this way……
some time ago i read good omens and thought “great book, but what if crowley were gay, a great writer, and somewhat sexually involved with aziraphale?” and, me being me, i wrote a poem on this concept entitled “What If An Angel And A Demon Fell In Love? Wouldn’t That Be Nifty?” and today it won me a hundred fucking dollars in a poetry contest. so take that neil gaiman
Oh lover, you’re a triumph, an undone calamity As flagrantly forbidden as the fruit up Eden’s tree I’m coiled like a caliphate; your hand crawls up my thigh The only of the seven sins you never can deny
You’ll never say you love me, though; you can’t admit you care You won’t admit you love me like the drowning love the air You claim that I am nothing but the pride before the fall And maybe I have fallen, but I love you, after all
For I’m a devil; I can raise, then raze, than radiate I am a devil; I bleed black as ichor soaked in hate I am a devil; I deal in the secret side of pain Renunciation of salvation, dreamers down the drain.
And you’re an angel; you protect and guard all wondrous things You are an angel; you can rest the wide world on your wings You are an angel; you give the ineffable a voice You’re absolutes and absolution; I’m the thrill of choice.
Oh, lover, you are swords and crowns, crucifictitious tears, You’re covenants and convents and ecclesiastic years, Evangelist, avenger, Jonah in the wailing wall Pour plagues into the populace and kill the first sons, all
You want to say you love me like all demons love despair I want to say I love you like all angels love their prayer Oh lover, I’ll prostrate myself and never cut my hair, Oh lover, I have loved you since before the stars were there
You are an angel; you can lead the righteous in attack I am a devil; I can lead the wretched fighting back, I live to love you; it cleaves like a comet ’cross my soul You incarnation of creation I cannot control Though I cannot he holy, when I’m with you, I am whole.
