shavynel

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i love the -with mama trend but sometimes i get sad because that is clearly papa and he aint getting any credit raising those darn kids...

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Always a good time to burn down yet another village!

Patreon

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This high school drumline’s incredible performance included only drumstick

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Idk what to say

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my dad–also a writer–came to visit, and i mentioned that the best thing to come out of the layoff is that i’m writing again. he asked what i was writing about, and i said what i always do: “oh, just fanfic,” which is code for “let’s not look at this too deeply because i’m basically just making action figures kiss in text form” and “this awkward follow-up question is exactly why i don’t call myself a writer in public.”

he said, “you have to stop doing that.”

“i know, i know,” because it’s even more embarrassing to be embarrassed about writing fanfic, considering how many posts i’ve reblogged in its defense.

but i misunderstood his original question: “fanfic is just the genre. i asked what you’re writing about.” 

i did the conversational equivalent of a spinning wheel cursor for at least a minute. i started peeling back the setting and the characters, the fic challenge and the specific episode the story jumps off from, and it was one of those slow-dawning light bulb moments. “i’m writing about loneliness, and who we are in the absence of purpose.”

as, i imagine, are a lot of people right now, who probably also don’t realize they’re writing an existential diary in the guise of getting television characters to fuck. 

“that’s what you’re writing. the rest is just how you get there, and how you get it out into the world. was richard iii really about richard the third? would shakespeare have gotten as many people to see it if it wasn’t a story they knew?”

so, my friends: what are you writing about?

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Honestly, as a German I can not quite understand the obsession of the English speaking world with the question whether a word exists or not. If you have to express something for which there is no word, you have to make a new one, preferably by combining well-known words, and in the very same moment it starts to exist. Agree?

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kangaroos are like what if a scary muscle man occupied the ecological niche for deer

well I wouldn't like that very much. is what

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Wait I don’t think I ever showed any of you guys the results of the chicken photo shoot

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fandom and the adhd brain is such a wild experience. saw this tag in my notifications on a post completely and wholly unrelated to the subject, but the gray matter was murderbot flavored in that moment and immediately countered with:

"of course it can, it's a spacefaring Asshole Research Transport, it is made to exist in a vacuum"

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Haters

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I see the original post going around every so often and it saddens me a little that it's never accompanied by this thread explaining why it's completely understandable how a child would arrive at these spellings in accordance with english phonetics

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Please meet Rube Goldberg.

While collecting eggs a couple of weeks ago, this egg slipped out of my hands from 5 feet up above wood, wire, and cement. Quail eggs are VERY fragile when it comes to impacts, so this egg's life flash before my eyes and time slowed down as I watched the world's most ridiculous accidental cartoon egg drop.

It somehow missed every obstacle on the way down (3 shelves) in order to land upon the side of a milk jug I had dropped the day before. It bounced off of that to a couple feet away, and hit the side of a hay bale. It bounced off of that, and somehow landed on the open lip of an empty feed back laying on the floor that I had put down under the towers to prevent the cement from sinking heat from the space. The bag gently collapsed, and rolled the pristine egg to a stop back at my feet.

I stared at it in disbelief. I took it inside and candled it- not a crack in it. So I noted the pen I got it from (CER) and scribbled "dropped?" on it. I figured SURELY it would not develop after that kind of nonsense, but when I candled at lockdown, the little thing was ready to go.

So, I stuck the egg into its own hatching bag, and sure as shit, the little fucker hatched!

And as if the rest of the story is not weird enough, this is possibly the first coturnix chick in the world who didn't immediately faceplant off of a human hand in the pursuit of the cold embrace of death. It just sat there, posing with the egg. Looking around like Hm so this is what being alive is... it's alright I guess.

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there is something to be said for going to zoos and aquariums on weekdays to avoid school-aged crowds but going to the aviary on a weekend is fun because going into big greenhouses and watching toddlers who just learned to walk encounter loose tropical animals taller than they are is part of the overall experience for me.

to me a three year old is just as much an entertaining and strange beast as an egret. and here they can interact directly. incredible.

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went into a wine shop the other day to buy pasta and they did not have pasta but they were doing a wine tasting so i thought what the hell. and got to chatting with the other woman there because we had both just come from the library and were comparing our books and sipping wine and turns out we’re both teachers so we got on the topic of phones in classrooms—and the guy pouring our wine was like ‘that’s actually a point of contention in one of my divorces right now.’

and i very delicately said ‘one of your divorces?’ and his eyes got really big and he said I’M A PARALEGAL

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loaf with mama