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Count reprints, later editions of the same book, etc. If you have a copy that includes multiple books in one volume, you can count that, but do not count sequels/etc on their own. You can count ebooks and audiobooks if you possess the files in a permanent way (borrowed and streamed don't count).

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We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

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but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:

start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)

measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.

remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.

become consumed with despair.

decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.

remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit. 

once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.

now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably. 

take a minute to dwell upon your failings.

grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.

pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up. 

melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.

put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.

remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)

CONSUME THE RICE.

realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen. 

put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.

for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.

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“[kink] is bad because [thing the kink is based on] is bad” is such a funny take. we’re acting. you hate theater. you’re standing up in the audience and mansplaining to lady macbeth that killing people is wrong

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i think we should swap yaoi and yuri tropes more. a pair of doomed teenage boys taking a break from their afterschool music club to go on a cute planetarium date, shyly brushing fingers while internal dialogue goes on and on about the purity of their relationship. on other side of town a lesbian is getting railed by a mafia boss.

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The door knocker is cool but it has NOTHING on the experience of seeing the name of the literally tiny village your in-laws live in on Tumblr.com

Cat and kitten door knocker, Clun, England

This unusual door knocker from Clun, England, features a mother cat carrying her kitten — sculpted in cold, weathered bronze, yet full of tenderness.

Equal parts whimsical, eerie, and adorable, it feels like something out of a forgotten fairytale.

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this is crazy i’m going crazy over this

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Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die.

Masters of the Air episode 5 / Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred Tennyson

Screencaps from @itstheheebiejeebies

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JENNIFER’S BODY (2009), dir. Karyn Kusama

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please.

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