Have an electrician over today & he comes through from the kitchen like 'i was looking at that poster on your wall wondering how I hadn't heard of the movie so I googled it. What is the point. Is it just there to catch people out.' And I'm like, well,
Thinking about him (the soldier in Poynter’s Faithful Until Death painting watching an apocalypse unfold around him with horror in his eyes as he tries to keep himself standing beneath a doorway, based on an actual 19th century archeological find of a man in full soldier’s garb under a doorway at Pompeii)
Hey tumblr friends, in case I haven't told you lately, I have no idea what the FUCK half of you are on about and I WISH I didn't know what the rest of you are on about. Great work. Keep it up.
When people are explaining how to weave in ends, in a tutorial or any video, and they say to "just follow the path of the yarn" or "double the stitches" and then proceed to do THIS
That's a valid way to weave in your ends, assuming your yarn is wooly enough to not slip and it won't be super visible, but that's simply not what you've described.
THIS is following the path of the yarn. It is also the superior way to weave in ends securely and least-visibly from both sides.
God I miss the days when you could show up to a stranger’s farm and he’d say “What’s your name, boy?” and you’d take off your hat and hold it to your chest to better let him see your face and reply “Why I ain’t got none, sir, on account of my mammy passed on before she could give me one” and he’d tell you he’s real damn sorry to hear that and ask what he can do you for and you’d tell him that you can’t read nor even write neither but you’re mighty good with horses and can mend them fallen fence posts what you saw on your way in and won’t ask for nothing much more than a hot meal and a warm barn to sleep in and he’d keep his wife and daughters inside but send his boy who ain’t got married yet even though his mama tells him he needs a woman out with a lantern and some stew at night and the two of you’d get to talkin and he’d throw you his flask to take a swig from and watch you drinkin from it while he leant against the door frame and when he finally got called back on up to the house again he’d take a sip from it too real slow-like like it weren’t the whiskey what he were tryna savour
There comes a day at the start of each summer when I must put my baseball cap on sideways and go out back to my air conditioner. I gingerly stroke the rusty metal coils over its freon heart and say, "Sup, home skillet? Wake up, it's 1995!"
And the air conditioner says, "Oh snap, for real? I thought it was much later. I feel so old."
In a goofy voice I say, "Yeah, it's like 2024 or something... not!"
It laughs nervously. It says, "As if!"
I tell it, "Take a chill pill, it's really 1995."
"Then I'm only 5 years old? Wack."
I nod. "Yeah, duderoni. Go ahead and start up for me one more time. It's gonna be a scorcher."
It shudders. Something rattles deep inside it. Slowly, the fan starts to spin. Faster, faster, it whirls. The air conditioner laughs in relief. "I feel young!" it says. "I feel so young!"
Everyone always talks about flying cars this and flying cars that.
When the only futuristic gadget I want that doesn't exist yet when it SHOULD are those cup noodles from Cowboy bebop where you just pull the tag at the bottom of it and the noodles are instantly warmed.
where is the future I was promised?
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