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crazyfilterlady2024 · 8 months

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"Canine Cuisine: Navigating the Culinary Minefield for Your Furry Friend"

"Step right up, pet lovers, to the ultimate foodie showdown: Good Dog, Bad Food! Imagine the scene: you, the culinary connoisseur, dishing out delectable delights to your loyal canine companion. But wait! Before you serve up that tantalizing treat, beware the lurking dangers that could turn your pup's feast into a fiasco".

In this culinary crusade, we unravel the mystery behind the canine digestive system, guided by none other than Carmela Stamper, D.V.M., the wizard of wisdom from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA). Brace yourself as we embark on a journey through the perilous landscape of pet-friendly foods.

Forget everything you thought you knew about sharing snacks with your furry friend. From raw meat riddled with bacteria to the innocuous-seeming grapes and raisins, the hazards are aplenty. But fear not, for we're here to arm you with knowledge and shield your furry companion from culinary catastrophe.

As the summer sun beckons picnics and barbecues, remember what's a treat for you could spell trouble for your canine compadre. Tread carefully, for even the most innocent-looking morsels can harbor hidden dangers.

Raw meat, fried delicacies, moldy leftovers—each poses a unique threat to your four-legged friend's well-being. And let's not forget the sinister villains lurking in the shadows: macadamia nuts and xylitol, the silent killers hiding in everyday treats.

But the dangers don't stop there. Beware the siren call of snack bags, tempting your pets with tantalizing aromas. From suffocating hazards to unexpected perils, these innocent-seeming packages could spell disaster for your curious companions.

And what about our feline friends? While dogs brave the culinary minefield, cats tread more cautiously. Yet even they aren't immune to the dangers of onions, garlic, and their powdery counterparts.

So, as you prepare to indulge in gastronomic delights, remember the golden rule: when it doubts, keep it out of your pet's snout! With knowledge as your shield and caution as your guide, you can navigate the culinary landscape with confidence.

Love always,

Maria D.C Santiago

aka Crazy Filter Lady #GoodDogBadFood #PetSafety #CulinaryCautions

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efrmellifer · 2 years

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Wondrous Tails 2022: Seven

Cafe/College

based on my time working at my university's writing center and a certain Subway ad c;

Etien looked at her phone, sighing at herself for how long she’d taken in the writing center—now everyone who wasn’t on the campus dining plan would have stampeded up to the food court for lunch, and she’d be in line forever. He stomach growled, as if to further chastise her.

She looked between the establishments, but only the little student-staffed sandwich spot had a manageable line, so she slotted herself in at the back of it, pondering what she wanted.

Having decided, she ran it over in her mind again and again, following the line as it crawled toward the till. She tried to ignore the voices of the others building their sandwiches, hoping to avoid a repeat of the time she had accidentally ordered ham because someone else’s order stuck in her mind.

But finally, it was her turn.

“So. What’s it gonna be, compadre? Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

She giggled, but set into her order.

The guy—Estinien, according to his nametag—dutifully assembled the toasted flatbread and the ingredients to go within as Etien went along, though he did throw up his eyebrows several times, especially as they went through the vegetables together.

“That’s one hell of a sandwich,” he told her as he handed it across the counter so she could take it to be rung up.

“I know,” she mumbled, taking a bill from her wallet and shoving it into the tip jar. “Thank you for doing it.”

Estinien slipped off his glove so he could fish the tip out of the jar. He’d earned that.

The next week, it was much the same. Etien wondered if professors were assigning a bunch of extra writing work in a weekly cycle now, that so many students would need the help of writing center staff with such regularity.

But that didn’t matter so much as it mattered that she managed to get lunch before her next class. So she hustled over to the student center.

When Estinien saw her enter the food court, he tapped one of his co-workers.

“Hey. Get some bread in the toaster.”

In between the other orders, he did his best to recall everything she’d asked for last time, layering it onto the bread just so.

And when she got to the front of the line, he handed the finished sandwich to her right away.

“Should be the same as last time,” he assured her.

Wide-eyed, Etien just nodded, taking the warm bag of the sandwich and heading to the checkout.

On her way out, she shoved twice the tip she’d given him last time directly into his hand.

The week after that, Estinien was confused when Etien didn’t arrive, even when everyone else had come through (and then filtered out) from the lunch rush.

But he’d seen her around campus before, so when he happened to glimpse a friend—or at least someone she hung around with often enough he’d seen them together—heading for the door, he called out.

“Hey! Where’s--” he’d never learned her name. “Where’s your friend with the reddish hair? She usually comes in here a little late?”

“Oh, Etien! She’s stuck at the writing center with students getting ready for finals next week.”

Estinien thought. “Has she eaten?”

Her friend laughed. “I don’t think so.”

So he slipped some bread into the toaster before the little shop went on its afternoon break (hey, they all had to go to class sometime).

It was rushed, but he did manage to get Etien’s usual together, and slipped it into a bag. Then, it was just finding his way to the writing center. He didn’t even know the school had one of those.

But with some not great but better than nothing directions, he found his way to the building and talked his way past the front desk, to leave the bag on the table she was working at.

“Estinien?” she asked, peering up at him.

“I heard you hadn’t eaten yet. I wanted to make sure you did.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet. Thank you.”

He looked at his shoes, aware time was ticking for both of them, then met her eyes again, cheeks burning. “Would you ever want to get—to go out? For coffee or something, not sandwiches.”

Etien giggled. “Sure.”

He picked up her hand gently, taking her pen and writing his phone number on the inside of her arm. “All right. Talk to you later, then. Bye.”

And then he was gone.

She took a bite of the sandwich, then turned back to the student trying to outline their final essay. “So. About those supports for your thesis.”

The student laughed. “That’s okay, I can schedule a new appointment for later. You’d better eat your lunch; your new boyfriend went to all that trouble.”

Blushing, Etien did just that.

#WondroustailsofffxivWriting #fic #estinyan

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aerascreamer · 5 years

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A body without a heart

Part 1: Stranger

An Apex Fanfic

Fandom: Apex Legends

Genre: General Fic

Word count: 2854

Warning: violence and death mention.

Read here too (highly recommended because phone Tumbler screw my text format):

Wattpad

Ao3

----

New season, new competitor.

But this time, "the new guy" couldn't be more different than any of the Legend.

Revenant never interacted with anyone, leaving the dormitory early to go we don't know where.

And if he has to talk to someone, it's either with anger or despises.

The first game of the new season is gonna be full of surprises

----

Note: based on this idea that I brainstormed a lot

Part 2

----

The repetitive hits of Artur's beak on their cheek woke up Bloodhound nested in a hammock.

Above the treetops, the sky blushed in various shades of white, orange, pink and peach as the sun went up, while the fresh wind pushed the scent of the forest to the hunter's nose who detected mushrooms, moss, and flowers.

Disconcerted to find themselves in the middle of the branches and leaves, they remember in flash images to have sneak out of the dormitory late at night.

Speaking of which, the hunter could see one of the windows between two dead trees.

"Is Revenant behind it, staring in my direction?" They thought, gently petting the crow, listening to him singing along the other birds.

Since the robot joined the Apex Games, an oppressive atmosphere enveloped the place, leaving the hunter in constant disturb.

It prevented them from sleeping on their two ears so they decided to guard the corridors, sometimes all night and at the cost of poor reactivity the following day.

But with the new season right around the corner, they needed as much rest as possible...

Fortunately, they could count on Wraith's sixth sense or Crypto's surveillance drone to keep an eye on everyone.

"Caw?"

"Yes, you'll have holly berries later. Also, you need to do more exercises or you're gonna get fat."

"CAW!!"

****

The growls coming from the spaceship's motor echoed in all the rooms of the vehicle.

Tension ruled over the Legends' soul, as they approached the arena World's Edge.

With Lifeline's help, Bloodhound clipped their jetpack on their back right before Octane interrupted them.

"Sure you haven't seen my protection glasses?"

"No Octane, it's the third time you asked me."Bloodhound replied.

"Wait you lost them again?"

Lifeline raised one of her eyebrows with a judging glare.

"I... Guess?"

Both looked at the roof of the dropship in exasperation as the daredevil ran back to his room turned upside down.

"Come on I need them now! We're dropping in one minute!!" He exclaimed while stamping on his feet.

"You know what, take my spare ones and leave me alone." The hunter offered as they headed to their quarter.

They quickly grabbed the glasses in their wardrobe and tossed them at the young man.

"Nice! Thank you compadre!"

"Warning, drop zone ahead!" The IA lady announced.

Time has come... the new season has begun.

The new competitors started at the screens hanging in the middle of the ship, hoping to be matched with a veteran fighter like Bangalore or a trustworthy support like Lifeline.

Some faces lightened, others bit their lips.

Bloodhound headed to the descendant platforms, soon joined by Pathfinder.

"Hi, Bloodhound! I'm glad to have you on my team this time." The MRVN greeted, rising his hand.

"Me too felagi."

Although his personality showed friendliness, Pathfinder enjoyed fighting in the arena and his precise shots made him an opponent to never underestimate.

The frozen wind whirled around the Legends as the platforms pierced through the clouds.

"The hunt begins. May the gods bless you."

Out of nowhere, a scarlet figure landed with a loud bang between the two Legends.

It stretched its long smooth arms and looked at the MRVN.

"Revenant! Ready for your first match? I'm sure you-"

"Save me your breath, I work in silence." The newcomer reprimanded with a sharp tone.

He turned his head briskly to the hunter and stared at them with intensity, as he did with everyone.

Although his metal face didn't express any emotions, Bloodhound felt a deep rage and feeling of envy boiling underneath.

Revenant took the time to discover the arena before nosing-down, leaving a sad-screened Pathfinder behind.

The hunter tapped on his shoulder with compassion before the two jumped right into the red silhouette's diving trail.

The shadow of the Harvester projected its darkness on a totally devastated Capitol City.

Stunned by the damage caused to the landscape, Bloodhound couldn't keep their eyes away from the giant scar opened by the lava fissure scorching the earth.

Some buildings in which the hunter used to fight looked like they collapsed from the inside with fires still not extinct, saturating the air of ashes and dust.

The grey clouds filtered the light that shaded the sky in red, gold and orange, darkening the atmosphere.

Nevertheless, Revenant dived headfirst into the lost city, his tall figure blending almost perfectly into the chaos.

As Bloodhound landed next to him on top of a building standing with courage, the red shadow looked below at a supply bean in the middle of an open field.

"I'm going that way. Don't even think about following me." He warned

"Got it !" The robot went downstairs, oblivious to the bright eyes following his movements.

Watching Revenant dropping, Bloodhound asker themselves how their teammate ended up so full of animosity, especially compared to the blue robot...

Nobody knew where he came from. He popped in the Games like a ghost, without knocking at the qualifier's door.

"Do you need a Sentinel Bloodhound?, Pathfinder asked from a lower level.

"Yes, please."

*****

Revenant moved with silence and fluidity through the grass of a hill.

Following a few meters behind, Pathfinder and Bloodhound discussed the MRVN's journey to find his creator and what he learned on the way.

"And that's why he taught me how to cook Leviathan's meat, the robot concluded, walking with stiff movements.

"Interesting story. It reminds me of that hunt where I took down a Prowler."the hunter remembered.

"A Prowler?! They're really dangerous!"

"Yes but this one was pretty old and lost a paw unfortunately"

A gunshot cut the hunter in their story.

Two enemy squad exchanged fire behind the hill.

Pathfinder took his Peacekeeper and checked his grapple.

"What should we do friends?"

"Let's get closer to have a better view of the situation first"

But without consulting his teammates, Revenant darted in the direction of the fight.

"Wait!" the blue robot turned his to the hunter.

"Follow him." He grappled away.

Bloodhound ran as fast as they could, reached the top of the hill and observed the battlefield through their sniper scope.

Quick and stealthy, Pathfinder already knocked two members from one of the squads behind a large boulder and finished the last opponent with a punch, sparing any unnecessary injuries.

Close to a small house, Revenant fought each member of the second squad at the same time.

Ignoring the bullets hitting his chest like unpleasant mosquitoes, he grabbed a contestant's head, slammed it into a wall, rushed to catch his frightened teammate in order to cut her throat before punching the last member to the ground.

He fought and killed the targets with professional precision, trained... or even created for it without a doubt.

Moving naturally in the battlefield with ease, he glanced at each defeated enemies with an air of superiority, as if they stepped too far into his territory...

A new apex predator has taken the lead in his first try.

A leaf cracked under someone's step.

A fatal mistake.

Bloodhound immediately faced the new opponents coming in their back.

They shoot, hit a disoriented Mirage in the chest and rushed to cover.

Switching for their R-99, they climbed on top of a tall rock and emptied a magazine on Gibraltar who carried his fallen teammate to safety.

Taking the opportunity, Wraith sneaked behind the hunter.

They grabbed her arm, stopping the kunai before it pierced their chest.

She pushed their leg and the two fall on the grass.

Restoring their balance, Bloodhound leaped on the skirmisher and knocked her out.

"One squad... down..."

they panted

"Good job, " Pathfinder congratulated, "We're getting closer to the cham- Oh no! The Ring is closing!"

The hunter saw the giant wall of fire approaching quickly in their direction.

They hissed and started running right away, Pathfinder waiting for them.

Further away, Revenant's blood-red silhouette got smaller and smaller the further he ran.

A hundred knives pierce their lungs with sand rubbing their throat.

Their glasses clouded like in winter, while the breathing mask failed to provide enough oxygen to sustain the prolonged effort.

Bloodhound abruptly got grappled and pulled towards Pathfinder, who took them under his arm before they blacked out.

Part 2

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magicdrabbles · 6 years

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Isekai Lucio AU

This was done for @junkpilestuff and their awesome idea of Lucio waking up in our modern era world and I HAD. TO. JUMP. ON. THAT. Here’s the finished product. Warning: This is pretty long and it’s dialogue heavy but whatchya gonna do? Read under the cut~

A flash of red, burning pain throughout my body...my vision go black...then...

Darkness...swirling around in darkness...but I feel so...light. I’m...fading…my senses are mixed and...and...

…..

And what’s that horrible smell?!

Lucio’s eyes flash open and he jerks up with a heavy gasp, sweating. He squints away from the blinding light, settling himself down from whatever just happened.

It was probably just a weird dream...but why do I smell...whatever that is? Ugh! Dirt!

He opens his eyes, adjusting to the bright light and recoils his hand from the ground shaking away any residue that was on it. He scowls at the filth around him before finally getting up and wiping the dirt off his now grimy white suit. He looks up and his mouth drops. He’s standing in an alleyway next to a large trash can covered in graffiti, skyscrapers towering above, taller than his beloved palace. The unfamiliar sound of sirens and cars fills his ears and he quickly runs out the street. Everywhere, people everywhere.

Absolutely...FILTHY people! And why are they dressed so...bad?

The New Yorkers stare at him and his attire. It’s not completely unusual for the Big Apple to see weirdos like this. But his look is so...outlandish that many thought he might just actually dress like that. Lucio was twirling, back and forth, trying to take in his surroundings. The last thing he remembers before waking up here...Nadia. She killed me...that absolute BITCH! Lucio stomps down his heeled foot like a child. He growls, anger pulsing out of him like heat before he is almost bumped into the street by a burly man in a faded suit.

“Hey! Watch where you’re goin’ bub!” the man yells back at Lucio.

“YOU sir, were the one who hit me! How dare you! Do you know who I am?!”

“Not a clue,” the man laughs, “what a weirdo…” he chuckles to himself, disappearing into the crowd. Lucio huffs, and twirls to face whatever is before him. He scans the area, eyes falling on...what are those?

Large windows displaying colors and people lined up and down the buildings showing beautiful people just...staring and smiling, sometimes holding perfume or fine jewelry. Lucio stopped when he saw him. On the...I think I heard someone say...jumbotron, Lucio saw one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen, almost as beautiful as him. Hmph, I could beat that. If Nadia doesn’t want me in Vesuvia then I can be the best here. Everyone can love me, he thought immediately.

With his large golden claw, he grabs a passerby on the shoulder and turns them toward him.

“You! Who is that up there?” He points his fleshed hand up at the screens. A stunned young man, scrawny and red-eyed looks at the advertisement for Calvin Klein underwear.

“Uhhh I don’t know man...just some model dude?” He takes a sip of his soda he had been holding, not breaking his somewhat impressive eye contact with Lucio.

“A model? How do I do that?”

“Uhhhhh lots of dudes just get famous on Instagram really or like...make a youtube channel”

“A wha-youtube? Instagram? Quit being so obscure! And just tell me damn it!” Lucio grabs the guys shirt with both hands and shakes him a bit. “Okay okay! Jeez, my dude, I have a buddy who does photos for a living I can introduce you...but I don’t know if he’ll wanna take your picture since you’re such a...douche”

Lucio’s eyes widen, “A WHAT?”.

“Nevermind, just follow me” and the young pothead leads Lucio to his friend’s apartment.

“By the way, that’s a siiiiick arm, my man. You cosplayin’ someone or…”

“This is my arm and yes it is quite...sick? I’m assuming that’s good in this world” Lucio said matter of factly.

“Hehe...yeahhh...super sick”

“What is your name? It’s not that I care but I have no idea what to call you.”

“Ah it’s Jesse my liege,” he tips an imaginary hat at Lucio and do a little bow “and yours?”

“Count Lucio of Vesuvia. Grand ruler, military leader, excellent lover…” He smirks down at Jesse, running his claw through his blonde locks.

“Heh, schweet love the confidence, my man”

They continue down a few more blocks before they arrive at the apartment of Jesse’s friend. Jesse knocks a little tune on his friend's door before it cracks open just a smidge. His friend’s eye peers through the crack.

“What’s the password compadre?” Jesse’s friend asks ominously from behind the door.

“Lmao, the password is SUCK MY WEENUS! AAAAAYYYYY”

“AYYYYYY” they yell in unison. The door slams closed. Locks on the other side jangle as they fall off the door and unlock. The friend opens the door with large arms wide open.

“My dude, Dan, let me introduce THE Count Lucio”. Dan, the man behind the door, stares at Lucio and his grandeur.

“Yo, you’re mega hot not gonna lie” Dan praises. Lucio blushes for a split second before his signature smirk returns to his face.

“Ha! Of course, I am,” Lucio parades past Dan into his too small apartment. He lands, light as a feather onto the tattered and stained leather couch, “And that’s why I’m here dear Dan. YOU are going to have the privilege of photographing ME!” He extends his body seductively along the couch, leg raised straight up high and an over exaggerated pout on his lips. Dan raises a quizzical eyebrow and looks over at Jesse. Jesse, taking a drag of his vape (Where did he pull that from, Dan thought) just shrugs his shoulders and blows the vapor into his friend’s face.

“Dan, the man...you are the man and you take awesome photos. This dude wants to be a model and I thought ‘Well I’m bored and I bet Dan is up to nothing so why not?’ so now we’re here and I’m high and I’m vaping and you’re staring at me and that flamboyant weirdo is excited to model so, like, why not?”

There’s silence...Dan just slowly looking back and forth at his friend and then at Lucio. Lucio blows him a kiss and winks. With a sigh, Dan resigns to the requests.

“Fine. But only because I’m bored!” Lucio jumps up and claps his hands together.

“Excellent decision Dan! Now, what should I do? I should pose like some of my portraits maybe? Do you have a skull from an enemy I can hold? Maybe some fine jewels I can lavish myself in?”

“Uh no...but like, you can just take off your shirt. Ladies LOVE a shirtless dude.” He extends his fingers into small, pudgy finger guns and waves them at Lucio.

Lucio obeys immediately. It’s not every day people ask him to strip. He enjoys the attention. This is going to be FANTASTIC.

A while later, Dan and Jesse had set up the lights, the camera, and simple white background for Lucio to model in front of. Lucio had stripped down to just his pants, although Dan and Jesse had to stop him from going past that. After explaining he did NOT need a skull to stand on, and that most models just pout and pose fairly naturally, Lucio began to get into the groove of it all, displaying his muscles the best he could and giving the camera winks every now and then. Dan uploaded the photos to his Instagram after doing a bit of filtering and face tuning, and they waited for the responses to start flooding into the comments section. Lucio paced back and forth, his heeled boots click-clacking on the hardwood floor.

“What are we waiting for? Surely I should be on that big screen by now!”

“Ahh, that’s not how that works my dude…” Jesse explained flatly, not taking his eyes off the TV screen. Just as Lucio’s face turns red with impatience at these...fools... a high pitched “Ding!” resonates from Dan’s little device. And then another...and another and another...soon Dan is launching himself across the couch to silence his phone.

“Yooo what the fuck...you’re blowing up Lucio!” His eyes widen at the screen, his greasy finger scrolling through all the comments and likes on his photos. “Oh my god...GIGI HADID SAID SHE THINKS YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!” Lucio waves his hand absently “Yes, yes I know I am. I don’t care who this Gugu is, am I FAMOUS now?”

Dan’s jaw drops. In his direct messages are requests for Lucio to model for big brands. Other models are asking who he is, designers are wondering how Dan discovered him.

“My dude, you’re gonna be famous” Lucio delivers a flashy smile to Jesse and Dan. Jesse goes in for a fist bump but Lucio slaps it away with his claw.

Months later, and Lucio is signed with some of the biggest modeling agencies in the world. He’s walking for Valentino, Gucci (his personal favorite), Prada, you name it, he’s modeled it. The extravagance he receives from his work is unmatched to that of Vesuvian riches; it’s BETTER. Fine clothes, drunken nights with the world’s most beautiful people, all the men and women he could dream of being with, everything! He has it all. He was even on the jumbotron. He hid his face from others, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He had made it. Lucio’s face and body were gracing every major advertisement medium- commercials, magazines, runways, even the sides of buses. One day, however, his lust for himself gets the best of him.

While walking down the busy city streets, paparazzi began flanking him.

“Lucio look over here!”

“No Lucio look here, look over here darling!” Lucio complied, striking pose after pose, strutting down the street. With a sexy smile and wink, he began to walk backward, arms up wide in pride. “Yes, New York! This is your COUNT your GOD! I AM THE BEST MODEL IN THE WORL-”

A bus slams into him.

A collective gasp from all the photographers is followed by silence, then by the flashing of lights and cameras. The bus, displaying Lucio’s own image, is the last thing the Count remembers seeing before blacking out.

Head pain...swimming in agony and...riches….darkness is creeping up again

Do I smell bath salts?

Lucio startles awake. He’s lying on a soft, luxurious bed, still dressed in his silk Gucci attire. A scream startles him and he looks to his side seeing a palace servant screech and run out of the room. Moments later, Nadia enters, her face at first shocked, then replaced with a scowl.

“You’re supposed to be dead Lucio, we were fixing you for a funeral. That was the least- actually-the most I could do for you” She crosses her arms, not at all pleased in the slightest. “And what are you wearing?” she asks coldly.

“It’s Gucci, bitch”.

#Lucio #Nadia #Modern AU #i made this for YOU #junkpilestuff #did I overdo this?#yes #do i love this?#absolutely #my drabbles #I hope you all enjoy!#the arcana

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rennyji · 3 years

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June 18th tweets

June 18th tweets...

-so in Hollywood, its actually now a style for women 2wear skirts/pants w/a bra &open blazer..i mean u see more skin or physique, for beauty adoring, of an actress..but the style itself is simply stupid..it looks weird...who comes up w/these trends..how do U start such a trend?!

so if a guy or girl is interested in each other, beyond the weird natural possible bumping into each other, you can get creative on how to further bump into a person in order to make an excuse to talk to the person or get to know them...-

- i think thats what people do when there isn't a freakish "situation" relaying everything about a particular person. If you really wanted to, you could speak to a person, without freakish stalking or a militia of long range friends doing ur bidding..-

- i mean alone, one can figure out that a girl's number begins with a 7 and ends with a 27. alone, from witnessing trips afar by chance, you can, say, drive near the bus terminal, and say, "i was driving around, do you need a ride..." to talk to a person, dear blondes, brunettes-

- black haired, etc. girls...if you really wanted to talk to a guy, or vice versa, you can. Just follow being natural without a freakish situation getting in your head...

- i would absolutely revere the girl who tells me about what's transpired, be it past, present, or future...without the vague pattern of signs set forth by orchestrators and their following...

- yeah i kinda don't like talking explicitly about these everyday things...but sometimes you gotta state the obvious, the way things are with your peers, at the risk of seeming full of urself or a non-regular person...i mean this is how the orchestrators build hype...

hmmm what else can i say...

2 my asian compadres..would you consider me asian? i mean, geographically, u guys are east asian, & i'm south asian...but you may not think geographically...i mean hey, harold & kumar was about us...I feel for every Indian, there is an East Asian friend-the harold&kumar effect...

you know who i haven't seen in movies in a while...margot robbie...harley quinn will forever have her face...its a crime not seeing margot robbie after "focus" and "suicide squad..." and regretfully she's not on twitter...

so a giant flying insect, with possibly something that stings, flew into my house yesterday...it survived the night, and now, for some stupid reason, is in my bedroom...gotta get rid of it...

-i mean geez a loo, it looks like a wasp, but all black...it landed on a rectangular award in my room...i took the award, while the insect didn't move, and went outside, tapped the award against my mailbox, and got rid of it that way...

- i think the orchestrators are harping on a past particular individual again, who I don't know...kindly stop...i don't know how to communicate with the unknown...this is my best attempt...moving on...

- is what the audience to the "situation" hearing male/particularly female college kid like sounds, on maybe the radio? That's just the front for something bigger...but then what do I know...why tell me anything...

I hope they come up with a second season to wanda vision on disney plus..but i don't know how that would work post-Thanos in the Marvel Cinema Universe..Vision could be another time variant like Loki..come to think of it, i don't recall seeing wanda in the fight against Thanos..

- i gotta meet eastern europeans and australians...i mean wanda, margot robbie...

so now theyre areRumors onTwitter about sam&bucky on Marvel's Winter Soldier being gay..i mean this is what i mean..i think i say some insightfulStuff..but i think people latch onto/obsess/&/or remember theMore tantalizingStuff..&1 level of orchestrators encourage this behavior.-

- i mean this level of orchestrators have this "randomly fallen into their hands" power of steering American behavior, hence fixing the flaws of American culture. But they're allowed to use it, to literally act as children, lusting for tantalizing things to talk about all day.-

- but back to the Marvel characters being gay...you know, personally I have nothing against those who are gay. i mean, to each his own...but when i was in a genetics and molecular biology summer program at columbia ages ago, a professor said that: when kids form in the wombs of-

-their mothers, whether destined to be male/female, they all start out as female. The guys go thru this inverting process of physical features. It was suggested that some men, some people, don't fully undergo the transformation..could explain why someGuys have femaleTendencies..-

- not limited 2 who they like...i dunno, it makes u wonder, if theresSomething more there...bluntlyPut, males&females, physically, have complimentaryFeatures...so when opposites don't attract, aside from their minds/souls beingInSync, the bodies can't exactly complimentEachOther.

- but probably on the controversial side of things, not my business, just sharing what i learned ages ago...

- but that said, with homosexuality being embraced and now visible in children's cartoons on Cartoon Network or Nickeloedeon, it makes you wonder what a five year old will think. -

-Exposed at a young age, would someone who is not biologically wired toward the same sex, feel "who they're attracted to" is a "choice." -

-When I look thru the filter of my life, I can date/marry australians, eastern europeans, greeks, italians, irish, etc. or whoever. I think in a way like I have those options. Likewise, would a 5year old, who wasn't wired to be gay, think he has the option 2 date male or female?-

- what about children growing up & developing best friends? I mean me, personally, when I lost my best friend in the 1st grade, i decided on mastering being independent. & now by a twist of fate, im facing enforced solitude by "the situation" & its "instructions." moving on,-

- and back to the point, would children have confusions, fantasies, about their best friend? As seen through the changing perceptions toward me in this "situation", based on one single word/action amidst 10,000 , people are impulsive to their feelings &thoughts...-

- would children, based on a thought error or a random thought from confusion, think they're attracted to the wrong individual?

on women, the big hair of the 80s or the fluffy hair of the 90s is missed...i mean the modern flat hair is nice too, but so was the hair of that period...

the default homepage on a windows computer on microsoft edge...i think its msn dot com...they don't display the web address...for some reason, lately, i've been attracted to the trending or side links...maybe because of the spice it offers my boring life...

I think the following is “a thing”…I remember hearing that, in potential relationships, “some women like the chase…” I mean, at any point, are women direct with men, or do they speak to men?! What happens after “the chase?!”

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uncuentofriki · 7 years

Text

Mi flaco (english)

You have no idea of how much I love to write on the spanish that I’m used to talk everyday and about stuff that I know instead of having to investigate everything. Anyway, one-shot based on this Mon Laferte’s song (although I’m more a fan of her when she was singing metal), instead of a Mariachi song. A translation of the song at the end as always.

While they were placing the veil upon her head and adjusted the dress to make sure she couldn’t breath and eat not even a grain of rice on the party, her mother, her grandma, her aunts and even her married cousins gave her lots and lots of advice for her married life, mostly for that thing she had heard only on whispers since she was a child and that night she will finally know what was all the fuzz about.

“And you must use the white nightgown that your aunt brought you from Mexico’s city” her mother finished the discusion. “There you are, a bride on white. As it must be”.

And all her court crossed their hands upon their chest or at one side of her faces to admire her.

Imelda though on that moment that she haven’t heard anything of what they told to her, thinking more about if Hector would be using that beautiful brown charro suit that made her lose her head and if Ernesto, his best man, would be on time.

They had decided to keep the wedding as something intimate and just invite their families, their goodparents* and a few friends of Hector and Imelda, but still half of the town was outside the church with rice. It was the perfect ending of a story that they followed since they were small kids, Imelda -always singing on her way to the marketplace to buy the breakfast- and Hector -who made songs about how much he wanted to have vacations already and how much he hated to do homework- and the town wished that those two souls that loved music that much to be bonded forever. It was their telenovela,decades before those started to exist on every television and decades before someone knew what television was.

“Long live to the newly married!” everyone yelled after they leaved the church. So many rice upon their heads seemed the announcement of a long life together, full of songs, love and prosperity.

The party was full of joy. Ernesto couldn’t stop flirting with the cousins of them both while he singed, one of Hector’s spinster aunts caught the bouquet and one of the youngest cousins of Imelda caught the garter.

Then the night came and all the women dragged Imelda, took her to the bedroom chosed for the ocasion, took her veil, tousled her braids, undressed her and made her wear the famous nightgown from Mexico’s city, they said it was silk.

“Mama! I’m going to be cold with this thing! It’s almost translucent!” the bride grumbled “Gimme my flanell nightgown!”

“No! Taruga, that’s the tradition!” and they leaved her alone on the bedroom.

The best quilt, a quilt white and with flower embroidered on it, was upon the bed. Upon the quilt there were rose petals. Also there were some candles lighting the room and a bottle of tequila. She noticed that there were two caballitos, not just one. “Ah, so today I can drink, right?” Imelda thought with sarcasm, remembering the times that they said that she couldn’t drink because she was a lady.

She looked herself at the mirror. For God’s sakes, she looked more naked than dressed with that thing, it barely covered her knees. She heard some laughs outside, Hector protesting, Ernesto laughing his hat off and suddenly the door opened, everyone pushing her husband inside, stumbling until he could reach the bed and gained some control. The door closed behind him and they put the bar.

“It would be better if you don’t come out from there until you have your own mariachi, Hector!” Ernesto yelled, everyone laughed and continued with the party.

“Son of a...!” Hector came back to the door and started to try to open it but stopped at the sight of Imelda. The moonlight filtered on the curtains gave her an angelical halo. Her brand new husband almost dropped his jaw. She turned red as a tomato.He took off the jacket of his suit and if it was posible to die of shame, Imelda didn’t wanted to know. One for one the words that she though that she didn’t heard came back to her memory. Specially the explanation of what were going to happen that night.

“Look, mija, you see. He will try to put inside of you that thing that the men use to do peepee and you must left him to do that. Don’t say anything, don’t do anything, just lay down and, I don’t know, pray the rosary or sing whatever you want while he does the thing” her mother explained. “Hector is almost a skeleton, he’s going to pinch her whenever he’s upon her” one of her cousins laughed. “Well, we’re going to see if he’s so good to touch other things as he touches the guitar” said another aunt. “You’re lucky, mija, they say that the musicians are good for that”. “Shht! She’s a respectable lady. Only whores can find joy on that things. And men, obviously but it’s not okay” said her grandma.

The bride turned around, trying to hide her shame. Hector took her by her shoulders.

“Hey, don’t be afraid, corazón mío” he whispered at her ear, giving her shivers. “If you’re not feeling ready for tonight, then it’s okay”

“You want to” she repplied, trying to call her strenght back. They tried some things before, their scapades to the forest or the lagoon weren’t so innocent, but they never took her clothes off or got their hands under the clothes, afraid of being discovered by Ernesto or the twins.

“Why tell you lies, I want.” he answered, shrugging.

“Then let’s do this, and let’s see what’s all the fuzz about” her voice full of decision just made the groom get more nervous.

"No, no, if you are not feeling ready I don’t want to pres...” he couldn’t finish the phrase because Imelda kissed him with all the passion she used to sing. Not so long before the entire charro suit was on the floor.

They told her to stay still and let him do everything but if the kisses could leave marks on the skin, Hector would be of another color at the next morning. They told her that only the whores, those poor women that gave Imelda lots of pity because they weren’t guilty of anything, liked what she was doing with Hector. Well, she will be one then. Hector didn’t minded. He never wanted Imelda to be “a proper lady” and he couldn’t care less.

At dawn they both were cuddling together. Tired but happy.

“So many fuzz for this. It wasn’t that bad” she laughed, so tired to laugh as always anyway. “Let’s go, I’m hungry and it smells like they brought chilaquiles”

They got dressed, laughing about why could they be ashamed of being seen naked by the other if the night before they saw everything. He helped her with the corset and she made his cravatte. Everyone cheered when they leaved the bedroom. Aparently the party continued all night long and they didn’t noticed.

Years before, when the life took him away from her, sometimes on the cold and lonely nights on her bed, Imelda remembered the nights at her husband’s side, his hands upon her skin with a tenderness that not even his guitar knew and the mornings seein him sleeping, cuddling with her, caressing his hair and putting in order the thoughts from which will be born themost beautiful songs that Mexico would hear, but with other name and other voice singing them.

How much she missed her flaco those times. Not for the pleasure, but the feeling that the world became smaller at her side and was only the place where they both were and the only melody that they wanted to hear was their hearts beating together.

And the days after those nights, she blowed the hammer harder than other times, trying to dissapear for once and at all what he left on her body and on her life.

Notes: 1- On the catholic wedding tradition -at lest in Mexico-, we have goodparents for everything: a bible, prayers (they’re supposed to be a marriage that you admire andhave as your goals on marriage), bouquet (that’s just a single woman), lasso (on a certain part of the mass they put upon you and your wife/husband a lasso to symbolize that you’re know together forever and ever), sometimes of pillow (because the reclinatories to pray are harsh for the knees and you spend a good portion of the wedding on your knees), rings, “arras” (thirteen golden coins, symbolizing prosperity for the newly wed) and, because Mexico, we can even have goodparents for everything for the party: napkins, alcohol, photographs, music... Your goodparents, on mexican tradition, become your “compadres” or “comadres”, very close friends and they’re supposed to help you during your married llife. We don’t have really a best man/maid of honor tradition but I guess Hector decided to give some position to Ernesto -because usually the goodparents are married couples, only the bouquet goodmother is supossed to be single-, because #bestfiesforever. 2- I wanted to translate taruga to “silly” -which would be somewhat close- but it didn’t felt right. So I left it as it is. 3- Flaco is literally “thin man” but it’s also a term of endearement (similar to honey or dear), specially if the person is, well, flaco.

Mi flaco. -Mon Laferte

Who is going to loveyou As much, as much as I do? I like to wake up And see you on your sleep. But I’m far away and I’m sad. I want to hug you And get tangled up on you It’s raining. I remember taht time I can’t sleep What’s the use for this country If I can’t laugh with you Or make love to you.? I miss you Mi flaco Rains and rains in my heart All this white perturbates me. And privates me from reason. Rains and rains and I miss you more It hurts so much, so much to love you On lonelyness

And who is going to love me So much, so much as you do? And who is going to deal with me so calmly as you do? I imagine your hair down. I remember you upon my body. I miss you, mi flaco.

#Coco #Coco pixar #fanfic #fanfiction #coco fanfiction #Imelda x Hector #Hector Rivera #Imelda Rivera

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blueanddeepblue · 7 years

Text

8/25

My marriage ended three years ago this month. I remember walking away to catch my plane back to Austin. I remember not looking back as I left the park and headed to the subway.

It's funny what one remembers, like watching Planet of the Apes as the plane looped around San Francisco before pointing south.

-----

Sunday I drove into Nashville to view the Great American Eclipse. Longtime friend, bandmate, and pickup basketball compadre David Beck graciously let me stay at his place during the madness. Being in the path of totality, Nashville was predicted to see something shy of a million extra visitors. I'm not sure what it ended up being, but I do know that every gas station and restaurant buzzed with the uncanny energy of a once-in-a-lifetime event. You felt compelled to talk with every cashier or waitress about their plans for the spectacle. The alcohol section in every Kroger looked like three Super Bowls had just occurred, reducing drink options to high gravity beer, various ciders, and (unless my eyes deceived me) the truly undrinkable - Zima. The radio advertised the most popular viewing parties and urged listeners to hurry and scoop up eclipse glasses at select locations.

David and I didn't make plans. We climbed up on the garage roof with his housemate, Katie. We spread out blankets on the hot shingles and put on appropriate eyewear and looked up.

Like so many other people across this country, we marveled at crescent shadows. We gesticulated and cried out as the sun became like a moon. We looked around at the darkness forming at the bottom of the clouds, darkness that looked like rain and heaviness but was really just the absence of light. Like so many other people, we were momentarily joined in the pursuit of the same thing. For one rare day the interest of an entire nation could be held by a singular source of wonder. We waved at the neighbors coming out to join the spectacle, pausing from their work day or their chores or their boredom to see if this whole thing was worth the hype. We joined in singing along with the playlist from the party next door, which was incredibly well-curated and undoubtedly timed to go along with event. We looked around and said to each other, "How cool!?", "Are you seeing this?", "I can't believe it."

That was before totality.

For those outside the direct path of the eclipse, I imagine the whole thing was mostly a communal event, a spectacle. A party for the heavens.

But when the sky went dark, when the moon covered the sun, there was a profound shift from the communal to the personal. The spectacle gave way to something incredibly simple.

I'm not sure I can fully write it, but what follows is an attempt: Birds singing evening songs. Cicadas and crickets in chorus. A blur of a hawk leaving its roost. The darkened sky. The simplest realization of my smallness, of the complete unimportance of the personal self. Street lights electric glow. The sunset that wasn't a sunset, but instead a dimming of the world entire, with a place on the horizon that was the door to another world, a place where light didn't obey the laws or strictures of this universe. The flare around the darkened circle. Totality. Even the blackness of that circle alive and radiating. Wonder and awe bouncing around my body which was no longer a body, but instead a collection of colliding atoms. Here and now. Nothing as absolute as here and now.

I remember people howling and yelling and I remember one of us howling and yelling back. I remember saying something to David or in his direction but not what I said or if he responded. I vaguely remember taking a few pictures. But mostly, nothing was of importance. There was no playlist, no neighbors, no parties, no eclipse even. Just the mechanics of a universe so far beyond comprehension. And I was there too, somehow, amazingly - but stripped of my importance, observing a sun and moon that did not care if I was observing, that did not care who or what was watching, that would continue darkening and un-darkening long after humanity was gone, that would continue darkening and un-darkening even if we had never existed.

I remember the brilliance when the light shot out from behind the darkened circle. It seemed akin to the first light of the world.

Later I learned that the official time of darkness was 1 minute 57 seconds, but the entirety of the world fit within those moments, because time had lost its relevance.

-----

It's great to reach the place where people can conformably slip into a friendship despite time and distance. Something about my thirties seems conducive to developing such friendships, but it wasn't always so easy. David and I shared drinks and stories and played more basketball in the days following the eclipse, enjoying the easiness to our friendship, the familiarity from years of shared experiences.

There was a time however, after touring for years, when our relationship was ragged. Where I felt antagonized by all the little things, super critical of the things that actually make him a wonderful person: the optimism that inundates his every decision, the eagerness to please people and be there for them, the ability to obsess over new passions and enthusiastically explore the whims that come in and out of his life. These qualities had become negatives, things in dark moments that I felt held the band back from success or in lighter moments merely annoyed me. I've found that sharing constant space with someone usually pivots our opinion of them in one of two directions: either it erodes their habits and quirks into a distinct mess of bitterness and resentment that stops you from seeing the good in that person; or it polishes those habits and quirks into something beautiful and smooth, helping us look past the unpleasant edges that every person possesses.

Sometimes, the ability to recognize the difference between compatibility and love is the difference between keeping someone in your life.

In my marriage, I had recognized many times that there were problems, that there existed a tension and a bitterness in spite of love. But I persisted.

A lot of our culture around love is built on this myth - the idea that love is difficult, a struggle. It's in our country songs and our movies about love. It's in our novels and in the casual cliches we offer as passing encouragement. And don't get me wrong, it is a truly difficult undertaking to love someone, to be understanding and to turn towards them time and time again, but I'm learning that to love doesn't mean to languish in love. That there is something simple about good love. That there is a peace and quiet to it. That there is a gentle, easy desire with good love.

-----

For two nights, in Edgar Evins State Park, I had the entire tent campground to myself. A lakeside view with the sunset filtered through the trees. Time slows down and stretches out, disappearing altogether in intervals. In that stillness, in the first perfect weather of the trip, thoughts float through unmitigated by the flow and rhythm of conversation, instead I can reach out choose any given though and turn them over, examining them in my hand like a stone rounded by the river. I wrote a song. I worked on my fire building, using magnesium and a striker instead of matches. I saw a beautiful yellow warbler with a striking black hood. I marveled at the simple joys that have come into my life. At the quiet missing that accompanies one more week of solo camping, until the next leg of the journey, until I have my adventure partner.

-----

Today, at a YMCA in Putnam County, TN, I sit and write. The conversations here are between locals, between people who have seen kids come and go and now have grandkids. People whose once busy lives now revolve around water aerobics and swim class. Gossip and pleasantries abound, but so does real, honest conversation. What it's like to battle cancer. What they learned in the navy. And how after all these years, they've never seen anything like when the sun was covered up by the moon.

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theephotos-blog · 8 years

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Reasons Why You Should Always Choose A Sarcastic Person Over Anyone!

You definitely did not see this one coming. Out of all the fish in the sea, you threw your line out there and managed to reel in the one who communicates through dry humor, laughs at the most inappropriate time and often quotes these at an alarmingly high voice. Dating a sarcastic person is not a bed of roses it can sometimes be ridiculously hard. They may come out cocky sometimes, but all in the name of good humor.

Well! To start with, congratulations you just struck relationship gold, compadre.

Here are the reasons why you should be dating a sarcastic person. If at all you don’t know why you are dating him/her :p

We, the sarcastic person are ALWAYS honest

Seeing we have little to no filter at all. We are the guys who will always give you honest opinions. Brutal honesty is something we take pride in and more importantly we enjoy it.

We make you smarter, for real

Sarcasm requires a series of mental gymnastics. The sarcastic, satirical or ironic statements all compel the brain to think beyond the literal meaning of the words knowing the listener is thinking of something entirely different. It means that you guys are gonna totally work out your brains.

We teach you how to bite back

We bite and now you can bite back too but we will teach you that being sarcastic with your friends does not mean being mean to them. For every mean thing we say is followed by five nice things. Just kidding! We are eligible of talking only the mean language.

We have soft centers and hard exteriors

Okay…Stop re-reading the headline already!The reason behind our sarcastic nature is the mad layers of depth and feelings. And because we are so damn smart our brain will explode if we don’t exercise it constantly. We are actually very affectionate and caring beneath all the irony. So when we get serious to pay attention. Or maybe just cherish it.Whatever.

We will be your shield from stupid people

Mastering sarcasm also gives us the ability to insult people without them realizing it. Since hitting people publicly is prohibited in this era, we choose sarcasm as our weapon. You will always have a private joke with us when dealing with idiots. And your annoyance will disguise in sarcasm.

We can see through bullshit

We are the human lie detectors. Maybe it’s the result of all those years of brain stretching and exercising. We have the superpower to sniff out bullshit from a mile away. So we can come handy in your mental protection no one can deceive us.

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