#vetting bernie

[lactosegremlin]

hello hi important announcement:

that is all.

[pocketclowns]

my grandpa is watching the news and something about tr*mp came on and he started yelling at the tv and calling him names lmao

[alwaysshallow]

— gorgeous, part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You're a vet - and you wouldn't ever think that a big guy with a skull face, kitten on his hands, would be in your clinic. (2,1k)

AO3 version

A/N: I have no self-respect; Poland won in volleyball, SO. your insane man and vet lady is here <3

next part

The first time you see him? It is a wild one.

You didn't really know how to react when your assistant, Bernie, stormed into your office, telling you that some "big guy with a skull mask" had a kitten that needed an examination. I mean, you were a vet, of course, and you ran your clinic to the 11 P.M. sometimes, but... the skull mask part?

First, you thought she was joking or trying to prank you, like in the past, when she told you that a guy came here with a head of a fish tank came to your clinic. When you thought about this later, it was really dumb that you believed that, but the emotions were too high before; you almost slipped on the floor when you were storming out of your office, to see if:

a) he actually had a fish tank,

b) if he had some fish in it.

The skull mask wasn't a joke, though; Bernie also looked like she saw a ghost or something, and was basically hidden after your figure when you went to the corridor, where patients should wait until it's their turn. Usually there weren't many people, only emergency ones, which happened rarely enough. You usually closed after 7, but today you decided to say a bit... longer. 4 hours longer, but who count that, right? There was no one except indeed a big, huge guy in a skull mask and military uniform; at least you thought it looked like a military uniform, your friend's best friend, Johnny, had one like that. You probably wouldn't even speak to him if he hadn't had in his arms a cat that was meowing sadly, like something hurt him – or, her. You didn't know what it was yet. Guy was scary as hell, and if he wanted to, he probably would've knock you out in just one move, but you walked closer to him – what he was gonna do, hit you with his cat in his hands?

"What happened?" that's the first thing you asked, as you approached the man; and for the first time, your gazes crossed.

His, unreadable, brown, piercing even. You couldn't even get a single thought from them, like it was behind some kind of shield, and it confused you, but interested you in the same time enough to know that this interaction will be seated in your mind for some time right now.

You always liked the mysteries, and he seemed like one.

"I don't know." he simply said, standing; and you could see how much bigger he was; not only in height, but in body, muscles. It was like a doll standing to a WWE fighter, as you watched those silly shows after your work at night. "Found that kitten near a dumpster. Seems like it's hurting, so..." he shrugged.

"Aren't you a talker" you murmured, your head up high, to look at him. "Come on in."

He said nothing; simply followed you, with that kitty on his big hands.

You didn't know his name even, and you were more than willing to help him, or more – to help this cat live without any pain because your heart was aching how pained and scared it was.

As well as your assistant, if you were talking about "being scared" part; she kept glancing at that big man, who put the animal on the special table (as you asked him to). It probably would be you in the past, the scared and with some kind of reserve but now, you were more than amazed with his gentleness to care about things like skull mask or the fact that he would crush you with his finger.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, you started examination; it was a certain routine if it was about strays, and this particular one seemed to be abandoned not so long ago.

Probably nothing was breaking your heart more than this; throwing animals to street instead of trying to get them a new home. You saw too much.

"I'll have to fill a report for animal shelter" you started after a few minutes, as you were trying to localize the cause of pain; it was probably a broken bone, but cat was pretty beaten up too. "And I have to know where it was exactly, if you know the streets around here. Maybe there's more kittens like this."

"Animal shelter?" he asked, and you could just feel how his brown eyes are piercing through your green scrubs.

Intimidating, to say the least, because in addition with his low, gravelly voice, it was something alluring, like you couldn't be indifferent about it. Hell, you didn't even knew the guy, he could be potential axe murderer that stopped in your clinic because he was sad about the cat.

"Yes, I can't take him. Someone has to." you explained.

"Who said I won't?"

As you raised your eyebrow, you looked back at him, in a little shock – positive one, though. Most of the people that were bringing strays weren't eager about giving them home, for multiple reasons, and you didn't judge. It was a good thing that they were bringing them here, but this man...

"So, you will?"

"Mhm."

You smiled under your nose, stroking the little kitten, as you waited for her to calm down, before taking her to an x-ray. Her new owner wasn't really talkative, but the most important thing was that he cared enough to not only bring her here, but to take her home.

It was easy to gain your trust, considering that the skull mask that he had right now wasn't so scary anymore.

"I'm gonna take her to an x-ray. Wait up here, okay?"

Again, no response, just a simple nod.

Was it thing about you two being strangers? He could act reversed only because of this, or he was maybe tired and didn't wanted to talk. Yet, you rolled your eyes to yourself while you were taking an x-ray in a special room.

Weird. Weird, because as the bubbly and talkative person you were here, always talking with owners of animals that were coming to you (or in some cases you were out in a farm or something), you couldn't do that here. I mean, right, he answered your questions, but it was... automatic.

Not leaving a small pole to discussion, and it was irritating at some point, because you wanted to tell him at least half of stories about strays and how it was heartbreaking to find them a proper, loving home. And how you were actually curious if he liked animals before, if he had any.

And yet you were, not able to talk to him in any way that would untie his tongue. If you weren't such a curious woman, you wouldn't give a single fuck, and you would only do your job, but... now, you were more than eager to have a proper conversation with that man.

At least a few words more.

"She broke her leg." you explained after an x-ray, to show him under the special light what were you talking about, when the results came in.

Usually, it wasn't so quick, but it was an emergency.

"It's not as bad as it seems to be, your cat will need a splint and a bandage."

He didn't say anything; just nodded, fucking again, still staring at orange cat that was lying on the table, with your assistant cooing to the animal.

You expected some questions, though. Anything. "Questions?" "Not really" he said, glancing at you.

"It will take a while. You can sit if you want" you pointed at the chair in the corner. "I can stand."

So if he wanted to stand, he will stand, end of story for you – so, naturally, you just started to do your job with the kitty. It was a stray, obviously, so it wasn't an easy job with her writhing under your hands, but you managed, somehow.

"Do you want to register me as her vet?" you looked at him again.

Maybe it could finally be a proper subject of your conversation – not many people thought about that when they were taking under their wings a stray, so you had to offer. Especially when that kitty was just too cute not to ask.

"Will it be different than visiting you from time to time?" he asked, his arms crossing on his chest.

"I mean, yeah. I'm under the phone, basically 24/7, if you have questions, you call me. Vaccines, medicines, everything is under your hand. And since the little one knows me..." you trailed off, focusing more on that construction you worked on.

It seemed almost done.

"Right, we can do that, then" he muttered, coming a little closer to the table, to look at his cat. "I assume you need something? Contacts, I mean."

You chuckled, amused. "Yeah, pretty much. Your phone number, your name, adress."

He frowned at that last mention and sighed, glancing over you again, like he was judging something before he actually will answer you.

Hell, what was that in him?

"Is adress necessary?"

"Not really, no."

You both went silent after this; as you finished, you sat to your computer to add another patient to your folder, where you kept everything in check. Meanwhile, Bernie was still occupied with the cat that was too sleepy to even respond, but the meds were kicking in, so it wasn't a surprise.

Rather, it was good. She needed some kind of rest.

"Name?" you looked at him.

"Simon Harris."

It felt like a lie, what he was telling you – especially his last name, but you didn't say anything about it.

"You have an idea for your cat's name? Or not yet?" you smiled softly.

"Not yet, no. And as for phone number..." he started searching for his phone in his cargo pants.

Took him a while, to go through the pockets, but when he finally managed to give it to you, you could finally save everything – the cat's name was just missing, but he needed to think about it.

You could think of multiple stories of people that came back to your clinic or called you to change the name in your documents, because they wanted something different. Mostly it was because the previous one wasn't a "good fit", but some were... funny ones, or weird enough that you didn't even bother to ask why.

Sometimes your curiosity got the best of you, especially when you asked why does he want his cat to be named "Pussy"; you regretted asking almost immediately, when he sat in the chair right in front of you. He talked for almost twenty minutes of his girlfriend and how he wanted to "give" her the cat with a name like that because it was funny enough.

And because of other things that you'd like to forget.

"Addison Frost. I run this clinic" you said, when he was saving your number in his phone. You could swear that he rolled his eyes, but it wasn't so clear as he wore that damn mask. What it was for anyway?

You wanted to see his face, badly.

"That much I figured" he muttered, his phone going to pocket of his cargo pants right now; he looked back at his cat, and at you again. "Can I buy something for her here? Or... I should go to the store?"

Hell, it was his probably longest sentence to you that day; and that made you smile a bit, when you reached out to the place you kept starter kits for kittens that needed to be taken care of more than the regular ones; you made a couple of them, and that was one of the last ones.

"No need to pay me for this" you said quickly, as he reached for his wallet. "It's... something that I give, just that" you muttered. "You can borrow that transporter too, until you won't buy your own. She needs to rest for the most of the time, and as she's a stray, she'll probably want to wander around your place."

He nodded, deep in thought, as you helped him with putting his cat into this; he was ready to leave, but before that, he dropped 90$ at your desk, leaving without any further explanation. "Hey! That's way too much, I can't take something like that" you left after him, approaching him as he was already putting the transporter into his Jeep. "It's just a simple help, not an operation, or..."

"You helped her" he cut you off, looking straight into your eyes "and that's enough. If that's too much, don't charge me for another visit or so. I won't take it back." he said, getting into his car; still looking at you, he nodded slightly. "Thank you. And, goodnight."

And with that, Simon Harris left you with many thoughts about that evening.

[sedoretu]

Curious — how many are you familiar with? 🔥

Defined however you want, but ideally more than “have heard the name before”:

Harry Truman

Doris Day

Red China

Johnnie Ray

South Pacific

Walter Winchell

Joe DiMaggio

Joe McCarthy

Richard Nixon

Studebaker

Television

North Korea

South Korea

Marilyn Monroe

Rosenbergs

H-bomb

Sugar Ray

Panmunjom

Brando

"The King and I"

and "The Catcher in the Rye"

Eisenhower

Vaccine

England's got a new queen

Marciano

Liberace

Santayana (goodbye)

Joseph Stalin

Malenkov

Nasser

Prokofiev

Rockefeller

Campanella

Communist Bloc

Roy Cohn

Juan Peron

Toscanini

Dacron

Dien Bien Phu falls

"Rock Around the Clock"

Einstein

James Dean

Brooklyn's got a winning team

Davy Crockett

Peter Pan

Elvis Presley

Disneyland

Bardot

Budapest

Alabama

Krushchev

Princess Grace

Peyton Place

Trouble in the Suez

Little Rock

Pasternak

Mickey Mantle

Kerouac

Sputnik

Chou En-Lai

"Bridge on the River Kwai"

Lebanon

Charles de Gaulle

California baseball

Starkweather homicide

Children of Thalidomide

Buddy Holly

Ben Hur

Space monkey

Mafia

Hula hoops

Castro

Edsel is a no-go

U2

Syngman Rhee

Payola

Kennedy

Chubby Checker

Psycho

Belgians in the Congo

Hemingway

Eichmann

"Stranger in a Strange Land"

Dylan

Berlin

Bay of Pigs invasion

"Lawrence of Arabia"

British Beatlemania

Ole Miss

John Glenn

Liston beats Patterson

Pope Paul

Malcolm X

British politician sex

JFK (blown away, what else do I have to say?)

Birth control

Ho Chi Minh

Richard Nixon (back again)

Moonshot

Woodstock

Watergate

Punk rock

Begin

Reagan

Palestine

Terror on the airline

Ayatollah’s in Iran

Russians in Afghanistan

"Wheel of Fortune"

Sally Ride

heavy metal suicide

Foreign debts

Homeless vets

AIDS

Crack

Bernie Goetz

Hypodermics on the shore

China's under martial law

Rock and roller cola wars

I can’t take it anymore (free space)

[fairie-grl]

inspired by @onadarklingplain 's 'Albon Pet Primer'

Sir Lewis Hamiltion has a dog, his dog is the goodest boy in the world, and I know too much about his dog so now you must suffer with this knowledge as well enjoy:

Lewis adopted Roscoe, a English bulldog, from an online adoption agency in 2013.Roscoe is a purebred bulldog with both his mom and dad being show dogs. Roscoe's name was chosen because Lewis thought it but Crofty calling Nico ‘Roscoe’ at the 2016 Chinese Grand Prix makes me have my doubts. Lewis later adopted Coco, a female bulldog. Coco’s breeder was originally going to put her down due to how expensive her health conditions, mostly likely a heart condition, were but Lewis stepped in. If you are trying to tell Coco and Roscoe apart in photos, Coco has a wider white stripe on her head. It is widest around the top of her head. Roscoe has more wrinkles and a brown spot on his snout and his strip ends at the top of his head and a new one starts off center in the back of his head. Coco’s fang teeth are also out more often compared to Roscoe's little teeth and she is a lighter color than Roscoe. Lewis expressed that he adopted the dog because his family has always had dogs, mostly labradors, but he said he always wanted an English bulldog. Coco lived till June 2020 when she passed in the night. Lewis and Roscoe were with her. His mom has five dogs! Both Roscoe and Coco have passports so they can travel with Lewis. Lewis was also granted special permission from Bernie Ecclestone to bring the dogs to the padlock (I assume Charles will ask Domenicali to bring Leo to the Padlock). 

Lewis brought a jet to fly with the dogs which he then sold in 2019. Roscoe is good with traveling due to his love of napping. In his first trip with Lewis he slept through most of the flight waking up to go to the bathroom and to make Lewis put him in his lap. Lewis followed Roscoe's command, sleeping with Roscoe in his lap like “a baby.” Lewis said, “Roscoe is the best travel pet, he just sleeps with you.” As Roscoe is getting older, Lewis has made the decision to travel less with him, as the time zones were getting hard on him. While Lewis is racing, Roscoe stays in Los Angeles, California with dog trainer Kirstin McMillan (adventuresindogtraining on instagram). Lewis says he gets pictures of Roscoe everyday and checks in on him. Roscoe also attends a dog park or “Los Angeles' first canine social club” as stated on their website called ‘Dog PPL’ in Santa Monica. It is about $120 a month for one dog.  

Not only is Roscoe Lewis’s son but also his best friend. Lewis talked about his instant connection when they first met. Roscoe gets sad when Lewis leaves and happy when he returns. Lewis says, “Then I get the Frisbee and play with him, and that’s, for me, the biggest highlight – the unconditional love you get from a pet like that.” Roscoe loves quad bikes. In one interview, Lewis said it’s because he’s lazy so he likes being driven around. However, I think it’s because he has taken after his dad and wants to race. Roscoe also loves frisbee and his ball; it seems like he enjoys fetching and chasing after things, like chasing other cars down… Roscoe WDC 2024 confirmed. Lewis also has Roscoe involved in many of his projects, Lewis has hinted that Roscoe has a cameo in ‘Apex’, his movie starring Brad Pitt. When Fortnite asked him to be in the game he said he would only agree if Roscoe was in the game with him. Fortnite, of course, agreed because Roscoe is an angel. They ended up putting him in a jet pack. He was 1,500 V-Bucks or 2,400 V-Bucks with the ‘Lewis Hamilton Budle’ (IDK if thats a lot I don’t play Fortnite). Lewis also said Roscoe is the only person he can count on to stand with him along with Bono.

After Coco’s death, Lewis took Roscoe to the vet where they recommended starting him on a vegan diet similar to what Lewis has. This vegan diet is often recommended to bulldogs because they often have food intolerances or allergies to the meat proteins that can affect the skin and gastrointestinal tract. The vegan diet Roscoe is on still includes the same things without the meat proteins in it that caused him to have health issues. Lewis has said his breathing has improved and that he no longer has skin allergies. Roscoe also has physical therapy and acupuncture every week to help with his joints.  Roscoe has also had health issues that caused him to ejaculate, often uncontrollably, scaring baby Roscoe and leading to him getting snipped in 2016. Lewis did have his sperm frozen so that Roscoe could have puppies. Lewis said, “It’s great his genes will live on.” Lewis said his plans were to have Roscoe’s puppies after he retires but with the fanzone in 2024 Australia GP, it sounds to me like he may be looking sooner to have Roscoe’s pups or to retire. Last year, around the British GP, Roscoe had some issues regarding his spine. If I remember correctly, it involved a slipped hernia in his spine. Luckily, he got stem therapy and was able to attend the GP. He has been improving, and as of today he is back to normal.

Now for the part most people know about. Roscoe started his instagram account, roscoelovescoco, in January 2015 with a post featuring Coco and him captioned “Thanks for following us :).” The instagram account was originally a joint account with both Coco and Roscoe until 2020, although both did get solo posts. As expected Roscoe does make money off his Instagram, but he is also a dog model. Lewis said in a Silver Arrows interview in 2021 that he gets paid $700 a day which goes in Roscoe's treat fund. Roscoe also has sponsorships. His Thanksgiving party was sponsored by Bramble Pets, and he did content (including a commercial) for Zapp, a food delivery company Lewis invested in. Roscoe also appears in Lewis' vlog channel (it hasn’t been updated since 2021) multiple times. His last appearance is in a video “Adventures with Roscoe! | Lewis Hamilton Vlogs” which is also the last updated video on Lewis channel. He reached 1 million followers in 2024, which is more than Chouprette Lagerfield, the cat of Karl Lagerfeld (I am not joking, this man left a good chunk of his fortune [~$300 million] to his cat). Roscoe’s captions on his instagram posts were originally typed in a sort of third person first person mix but in October 2020, Roscoe finally established his first first person post with his famous lisp. However, the conspiracy expands as prior to this first lisp post, there are two posts on instagram where Roscoe (and Coco) are talking to us. The first one was posted April 2024 with Roscoe saying, ‘They put a thermometer up me bum, dad!’ In this speech bubble, Roscoe doesn’t have a lisp but does speak in a sort of baby talk. The next post in October 2017 features both Roscoe and Coco with Roscoe saying, “We got acupuncture today Dad!” and Coco saying, “It’s my favorite.” (More info about the dogs getting acupuncture is in the health section.) I will note his lisp comes and goes on his posts around November 2020. His lisp finally stays and its intensity does increase. There are also a few posts taken with Mercedes that don’t feature the lisp, and a few posts talking about Roscoe or Coco written in their “Dad’s” pov where it obviously doesn’t use a lisp.

[littlebeesart]

Hi hi! I know these are super tough times for everyone, I thought I'd give it a go.

My cat's health is getting worse with more repeated seizures and we're struggling with having enough funds for a vet appointment and possibly a follow up with a neurologist. I'm currently on disability which makes it very difficult to have extra funds at the moment. My ko-fi is open and commissions open.

From fan art, to original character creations, to d&d groups.

Don't hesitate to reach out and DM me if you have any questions 💛

Any help is appreciated, Bernie and I, thank you!💛

Any help is super appreciated💛💛

[thehedgehogsong]

A non-exhaustive list of things I loved in godzilla x kong: the new empire (slight spoilers):

King Kong adopting a son

Godzilla making a nest at the coliseum

An entire scene devoted to a tooth extraction

Monkey forced labour camp

Whatever was going on with Ilena, Bernie and Trapper

Additionally to the above point - sometimes a family is a King Kong scientist, a King Kong vet, a podcaster and their adopted daughter who is besties with King Kong and Mothra

Additional addition to the above points - humans only there for exposition purposes

The scene where Kong is trying to get Godzilla to help and Godzilla has 0 chill

Godzilla suddenly regaining his chill when Mothra appears like "chill babe"

Zero gravity fight scene

Shimu head pads and chin scritches

I mean there's about a million other things I loved about the film, it was fun and stupid and knew exactly what the audience wanted and gave it to us (and that was giant monster fighting with little context)

[hrodvitnon]

Bernie: *freaked out* "Is that patient of yours...a freaking Skullcrawler?!"

Trapper: "Fascinating, aren't they? Every Titan in need of help is welcome to my clinic. I love all them creatures equally!"

Bernie: "Even the ones that would definitely eat you alive if they ever got the smallest chance to?"

Trapper: "Hey, it's not his fault it's in his nature! Besides, he's perfectly sedated and restrained while I treat those injuries. And before he comes to, we're relocating him far away from Kong or people so he doesn't bother anyone!"

Bernie: "Sometimes I doubt your sanity, and now my doubts are gone. You're DEFINITELY insane."

Trapper: Aw come on, it's no different from how regular vets handle critters like crocs!

Bernie: OF COURSE YOU'D CALL A LIVING DINOSAUR VIRTUALLY UNCHANGED FROM THE AGE OF DINOSAURS A CRITTER.

Trapper: Comparatively speaking, they're baby bearded dragons next to Godzilla!

[simply-ivanka]

What the Choice of Tim Walz Says About Kamala Harris

In her first presidential-level decision, the Vice President bends to progressive pressure.

Donald Trump did Democrats a favor by choosing a running mate who reinforced his base rather than reaching out to swing voters. Kamala Harris has now returned the favor in selecting Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, the progressive favorite, as her pick for Vice President.

The choice that scared Republicans was popular Gov. Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania, a swing state crucial to an Electoral College victory. But Mr. Shapiro, who is Jewish, was the target of an extraordinary and nasty campaign against him by the Democratic left. He was too pro-Israel and had upset unions by showing rhetorical support for school vouchers.

Ms. Harris appears to have wilted under this pressure, perhaps fearing protests at the Democratic convention in Chicago this month. She went with Mr. Walz instead, and there goes Mr. Trump’s hope of flipping the decisive swing state of Minnesota. That’s a joke, since the Land of 10,000 Liberals has voted Democratic in every presidential election since 1976.

Mr. Walz’s progressive bona fides will please Sen. Bernie Sanders and the teachers unions. But his governing record will be fodder for Mr. Trump. And picking him is a bad omen about the ability, or even willingness, of Ms. Harris to defy her party’s left.

***

Mr. Walz, age 60, has a plain-spoken personality and an appealing Midwestern background. He joined the Army National Guard at 17, graduated from a state college, and became a high-school teacher and football coach. He was elected to Congress in 2006 from a rural district, and one selling point to Ms. Harris is that he might appeal to Trump voters.

But as Governor since 2019 Mr. Walz has moved Minnesota sharply to the left. He still wears a baseball cap and work jacket, but since Democrats gained control of the entire Legislature in 2023, he’s governed more like California Gov. Gavin Newsom, including:

• Increasing taxes, though Minnesota already has the fifth-highest top income-tax rate among the states, 9.85% at $193,000 of earnings for a single filer. Mr. Walz added a 1% surtax on net investment income above $1 million, while reducing deductions, and the Governor wanted more.

Minnesota is a rare state that still levies a death tax, up to 16%, on top of the federal 40% rate, which is one reason the state is losing taxpayers to better climes.

• Making an estimated 81,000 illegal immigrants in the state eligible for driver’s licenses, along with health insurance through the MinnesotaCare public marketplace.

• Funding “the North Star Promise Program, which provides free college for students with a family income under $80,000,” including illegal immigrants.

• Creating a state system for paid family and medical leave, capped at a combined 20 weeks a year and funded by a 0.88% payroll tax.

• Mandating that public utilities generate 80% carbon-free electricity by 2030, ramping up to 100% by 2040. He’s a fervent believer in “climate action.”

• Subsidizing electric vehicles by “requiring EV charging infrastructure within or adjacent to new commercial and multi-family buildings,” as the Governor’s office bragged.

• Passing one of the nation’s most permissive abortion statutes that has essentially no limits and no age consideration for minors.

• Declaring Minnesota to be a “trans refuge,” with a law saying that the state will ignore a “court order for the removal of a child issued in another state because the child’s parent or guardian assisted the child in receiving gender-affirming care in this state.”

• Establishing automatic voter registration and letting Minnesotans sign up for a permanent absentee ballot option.

No wonder Mr. Sanders is a fan. Yet now the vetting will begin in earnest. Mr. Walz’s response to the 2020 riots, after George Floyd’s killing, will be scrutinized in particular, as poor areas in Minneapolis burned and many business owners lost everything.

Did he hesitate to send in troops? Why is Minnesota losing residents to other states? Republicans are circulating remarks by Mr. Walz acknowledging what he calls his white privilege and urging his party: “Don’t ever shy away from our progressive values. One person’s socialism is another person’s neighborliness.”

***

Despite her four years as Vice President, Ms. Harris is largely unknown to most voters. Democrats want to keep it that way, hoping she can dodge media interviews and ride a gauzy theme about “the future” in a campaign sprint of a mere 100 days.

But her choice of a running mate is her first presidential-level decision, and it confirms the views she expressed in 2019 when she ran for the White House as a left-wing Democrat. Choosing Mr. Walz suggests that the real Kamala Harris is the one who wants Medicare for All and to eliminate cash bail. Voters who don’t like Mr. Trump might decide he’s still better than signing up for that.

Appeared in the August 7, 2024, print edition as 'Kamala Harris’s Revealing VP Choice'.

[wintersovereign]

I might not be elsaofarendelle anymore but I can still make a nice theme for you!

At the end of August my 1yr. old dog (Bernie) broke her toe and had to have it splinted. due to the splint, two of her toes developed sores, well, those got infected. She's nearly fully recovered now but the vet bills have been expensive. I'm reopening commissions for a very limited time to earn extra income to cover my groceries this week.

(if you want to help but don't want a theme you can donate to $abagfullofcats on cashapp or dsmivsarcasm@outlook.com on paypal)

Contained themes are $20 Non-contained themes are $30 Features like hover reveal, jumbled links, and animated features are available at an additional cost.

My style is simple and elegant, with easy-to-read fonts that make navigating a theme accessible to everyone visiting your blog. If you're looking for heavy graphics and trending features, I may not be the right maker for you.

Examples of my previous work X X X X X

If you're interested in commissioning me, please read my terms of service page and contact me regarding the details of your commission and payment.

[bonfire-at-the-crossroads]

I’m going to try and list the events of today - just so I don’t lose track.

Dawn. Barnum got us moving by 7:00 as usual. Maggie had a pee accident in the night, and the stench was horrible. Bri took Bernie and Maggie out, I took Murphy, and followed up with the Woodge.

Fed the cats and started a fire in the stove in the kitchen. Yeah…we ran out heating oil yesterday afternoon. Had a limited supply of wood and coal, but it began to take the chill off…

Maggie threw up.

And now it gets serious. I googled up pyometra a deadly infection which un-spayed female dogs can get post-heat. Yup. Bri called the vet and talked them into seeing her immediately.

He called the fuel oil company and begged for a delivery - then off he went with Maggie into town.

I continued cleaning and moving things back to the studio - my client guy is coming at 2:00 to pick up his paintings. I bake two loaves of cinnamon bread, and loaf of white bread for tomorrow mornings breakfast. Swill down a cup of coffee, and keep tidying up.

The belt on the dryer busted yesterday, leaving me with two loads of wet laundry which will continue to be wet and will soon begin to get moldy. Bri ordered a replacement part and we will look forward to taking the dryer apart (AGAIN) in about a weeks time.

I mix a bucket of green mold killer and have a go at the front step and walkway - it’s become ridiculously slippery and neither one of us wants to hit the ground hard. I scrub with a chunk of old broom, and leave it to do its thing…

Bri returns with some cat and dog food procured from the vets - but no Maggie. “Shes going to have surgery today. She’s infected and has to have a hysterectomy.”

Barnum had surgery four days ago to remove a cancerous mass in his belly. Now it’s Maggie’s turn.

I take Murphy out again, apply the xeroxed info onto the back of all the completed paintings, and keep tidying. Magda the vet calls to say that Maggie will be operated on this evening, and promises to call and let us know how things went.

The oil guy shows up, pumps €500 into the tank - and leaves. Bri goes out to jump start the boiler.

It doesn’t start. “I’m going to drive to Belleek and buy more wood and coal” - and so he does.

I find the boiler-guys phone number. He’ll be here in two hours.

My client shows up, we chat, drink coffee - he refuses my cinnamon bread, but likes Woodgie very much? We load his Mercedes with the paintings (he’s brought me another BIG one) - I tuck several of my pillows and blankets around the art to cushion them for the ride home.

He does not hand me money.

Which leaves John the boiler guy unpaid. He arrives, works his magic over the next hour - I wrap up a fat slice of cinnamon bread and tell him we will drop his money off at his house tommorrow.

I start making the dough for tonight’s pizza. A figure looms in the doorway - it’s Pat. “I’m just coming from a funeral in Kilty and had to stop as we were passing. Do you mind if I show some people your house?”

Pat is always welcome, I would say “drunk or sober” but somehow we never see “sober”

He rolls in. He is followed by four other people from the funeral - three of whom are smashed. The kind woman who IS sober apologizes for the drop-in, but it really doesn’t matter at this point. They are roaming around the house, tripping over dogs and enjoying Pats tour.

The funeral is for a young g man who “was shot” -?! There is confusion as to whether it was suicide? “In his side” - and yet nobody mentions murder. We offer our sincere condolences.

The tour comes to an end, they all roll outside again - and we bid them farewell- “safe home.”

It’s now 8:00. The pizza dough is rising, the dogs are passed out in front of the fire - and we still have not heard from the vet.

It’s been a day, and no mistake.

[lactosegremlin]

photo dump of Bernie “Beast-Mode Cowboy” Sanders

[swede1952]

Good morning. ⏰😴😃

22 September 2024

My wife and I drove up to Shreveport, Louisiana Friday and stayed the night in a hotel on the bank of the Red River. One of our granddaughters drove down from the university where she is attending. It is almost exactly the halfway point. We had a grand time visiting, eating out, and shopping.

Ben and Charlie are boarded with the veterinarian. A minor problem with boarding them there is the vet closes at noon on Saturday and doesn't open up again until Monday morning, so they are stuck in lockup until tomorrow.

"I love my daughter, but there's a certain feeling, a certain emotion when you got a granddaughter, you know?" - Bernie Mac

[alwaysshallow]

gorgeous, part 7

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You're a vet with a pretty simple life.

One day though, things changes, when a big guy with a skull mask enters your clinic with a small, ginger kitten in his hands. (3,5k)

READ ON AO3

previous part

When you’re supposed to see Simon Riley for the thirteenth time, he doesn’t show up.

Not like it’s a surprise, but more of a disappointment, completely unnecessary one, given that he told you there might be complications. You didn’t even ask about them, knowing he’s not gonna tell you, and you didn’t really want to know what complications he had in mind, considering his work field. 

You still don’t want to know, not like that changed.

Everything started almost two months ago; he called you around the end of your shift at your clinic, when you were cleaning with Bernie. Caught up in the process, you would almost miss the call if your employee wouldn’t catch it.

He wasn’t beating around the bush. After a small talk—that you knew he probably hated to do—he straight up asked, if you can take care of his cat for a few weeks, maybe a month. Time really was a tricky one here, considering that he had no idea since a mission could go sideways. 

Without thinking about it twice, you agreed. Surprise was evident, as he got silent for a few seconds, then announced that he’s gonna be around five at your place the next day, to give you the cat.

With hope, you asked if it’s gonna be later five, as you hoped he didn’t mean the one in the morning; he only laughed at that, hanging up, and you just knew you’re not gonna get much sleep. 

“I’m grateful you’re doin’ this,” he said, once he got here. Eyes on you, dark like a simple, black coffee. Luring you into his arms more and more, especially at five in the morning to seek some kind of comfort that you desperately needed, as you slept a few hours.

“I love this cat. And I have to somehow pay for your fatigue with finding me a good mechanic, don’t I?” You raised your eyebrow. He chuckled, amused, leaning against the frame of the entry door to your apartment. 

You kept your mouth shut how badly you wanted him to just sit and have a simple tea. Just like he liked, you didn’t care. If he even wanted to, you could easily give him butter cookies that you made yesterday, they turned pretty decent.

“You don’t owe me anything, dove,” he murmured. One last look into your apartment; longing, as you noticed. 

It’s hard to leave something behind yourself, knowing it’s the last time where he feels content. At least, you thought that he felt this way—he didn’t need to deal with anything else, but things that were only around a normal person’s day.  

And he needed to leave this calm life for work. 

“Shouldn’t be more than a month.” He broke the silence, looking at you again. 

You tried to ignore the warm feeling, bubbling in your heart. Hot like a lava, sweet like a candy that you know you shouldn’t eat because you’ll get addicted; he only explained himself for the sake of the cat. Not because he felt like it’s right to do for you, or because he knew you’re gonna be worried. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. “Right. Where to, this time?”

“Iraq. And some countries along the way, depends,” he murmured, his lips in a thin line. With a sigh, he took a few steps into your apartment, enough to face you, his big frame towering over you significantly. You never felt so small in a good way. In a safe way.

“Depends. Get me a magnet, will you?” you asked, teasingly, hoping you didn’t cross some of a boundary here. His bark of a laugh calmed you with this a little bit. “What? I love magnets.”

“S’alright. ‘m gonna get you plenty,” he said—sarcastically, as you could sense—and leaned down a bit. “Anythin’ else?”

After a quick debate in your head if you should, you hugged him. Tight, your eyes closed, arms encircled around his body (at least, in a way you could because this man was massive). “Take care. And be safe.”

His body freezes a little; a cold cube against a heater like you, too tired to care, too afraid too. “Hard enough in a open field—”

“—just come home safe,” you said, not really thinking about the choice of your words. The aftermath came to you in a split second, warmness spreading on your cheeks.  “I mean… home, as in, here. Fuck, not here, I meant, a place, this town—”

“—Sssh. I know.”

You both stayed in this position for a little while. You because he didn’t push you away, he… for other reasons, but whatever this reason was, when he backed out, you saw how much more relieved and relaxed he was. Like this hug did something to him, put him in the right place of mind, where he needed to be in the sake of whatever mission he faced that time.

“Gonna do my best to be safe.” He lifted your chin with his two fingers. “But you have to do the same thing.”

You barked a laugh, shaking your head with a little disbelief. Cute. “Not really a challenge in a town where nothing happens.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised, dove. Just do as I said, can’t lose you.”

And with those words and a small wave (initiated by you), he was gone. The only sign that he was here was his cat and the smell; on you, but also on the things that he brought to your apartment in order to help you with taking care of his animal.

Now, it’s only a faded memory of his smell around, which has both you and Sparkles upset. You expected it, of course you did, but not that much. You haven’t expected the weird void in your chest whenever you look at the text he sent you weeks ago, when they arrived to Iraq.

Nothing after this. Radio silence, and even if you knew why, your stomach twists every time at the thought that something wrong could’ve happened. Would you even learn about that? Maybe from your best friend that is on team with him, maybe then, no other way. Or this Soap guy that seems to be familiar with you.

Either way, some of the nights are almost sleepless when you think about it.

The day he’s supposed to show up passes quickly. 

Another two weeks after that too, and another two weeks. It’s a balance for you—clinic, house and Sparkles and occasional trips to the grocery store if you don’t have anything in the fridge. Everything is so mundane, and yet you feel like something’s off.

Like you miss something.

Someone, in that matter, but you don’t let that thought overwhelm you too much; it’s still so fresh.

You spend your birthday with a couple of friends, in your apartment. Small dinner, just to celebrate the day, as you don’t really feel like doing big things; or, going to the club, as you were previously doing every year. Now, not only that your best friend isn’t here because she’s on a mission to serve the country, Celia isn’t here either, as she had a family emergency or something like that. Ironic, yet, you just accept the fact and move on—it’s not like you have much else to do.

There’s gonna be another day to celebrate with them, you know it.

The complete irony though, comes to you when the power goes off in the whole building at three in the morning. There’s loud banging to your door that startles you awake and has Sparkles all hissing, annoyed, that someone abrupts her sleep like this. 

You quickly shush her, then you put your robe on to answer whoever is outside.

And that’s no one else but your landlord; in his suit, as always, even if he comes in an ungodly hour like that to your apartment. There’s a quick chit-chat about the rent, prices coming up, so you should prepare for this. And finally, he says that power is gonna be off for a couple of hours. You bite the want to ask how many hours, smiling, instead.

“Lock in the front door doesn’t work. So consider that.”

Your smile drops after that.

You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean it doesn’t work?”

The man shrugs, completely unfazed by your reaction. “It doesn’t. Power’s off, so the lock doesn’t work either.”

Simple words, simple message, yet, you can’t quite get this idea around your head, when you’re done talking with him. Simon’s words echoes in your mind, when you close the door, checking twice if all the locks are on.

You’d be surprised.

It’s not like you’re a particularly easy type to scare, but somehow, you find it hard to sleep this night, as you turn in bed multiple times in a span of an hour. Shadows suddenly transform to potential dangers, figures are coming out of the darkness. Primitive noises bring you out of the bed to check if something’s happening.

So, you decide it’s best to not sleep at all than to have a paranoia going around. Completely unnecessary one, but it’s not like you can help it.

You thank yourself in mind that you have candles; multiple, so you can easily light up the living room, making it a bit cozier when you lay on the couch with multiple pillows and blankets, a book in your hand. It has to work somehow, since you feel way better than in your bedroom.

Sparkles is around, too. Maybe she senses how you are feeling about the whole thing, but she keeps her distance. She seems way more interested in the dark than you are, jumping on kitchen counters, looking outside. From time to time, she invades the space near you, wanting some head scratches. 

She’s just this way. On and off.

Like her owner—you think, sighing to yourself.

It’s hard not to think what Simon is up to these days. He’s probably in way darker places than your apartment right now, he’s probably way scared than you are. Or, is he? This man probably doesn’t even know the sense of being scared. 

Or, maybe he just doesn’t show it cause everyone is scared of something at some point. 

You don’t know, but you miss him. You miss the man that you met over four months ago just by accident because he found a kitten on a street. It’s a little bit ironic now, knowing how you grow attached to him, despite your “I won’t meet him anymore” mindset. Despite his closed personality that you desperately wanted to know a little bit closer.

You can’t help but think that he’s like a cat himself. Stray that will cling to you when you’ll give him food and then he decides what to do. Jumps from being away from you to being by your side full time—and you never know what he’s gonna do next. 

Like Simon. Just like him, considering that you never guessed that you’re gonna babysit Sparkles, treating her as your own pet.

You play with your phone as you think about messaging him. Would it be wrong? Would it disturb him? It’s not like he’d have a phone in an open battlefield, you’re not sure if he has service wherever he is right now, either. But, if he happened to read it, maybe he’d feel great. Maybe he’d smile a little, knowing that someone remembers about him—here, in a calmer world, where probably he’d prefer to be, instead of an open battlefield.

And that someone also misses him. Not like you’d admit it in front of him, but it is a simple state of facts.

Book you picked up goes aside the moment you hear another knocking; done with the situation that already is, you almost jolt to the door. “Another problem with that building, or maybe I haven’t paid for something?”

You don’t see clearly, but when the person on the other side of the door lights up the corridor with a flashlight, you see no one other than Simon. He must see the annoyed look on your face because he tilts his head in a curious manner; probably thinking what he did to earn a warm welcome like this. “Nice to see you too.”

You avert your gaze; maybe you should check who it is, not only because of safety, but to not snap at someone innocent like him. “Sorry. Thought you’re my landlord,” you mutter, ignoring how he barks a laugh, loudly, then closes the door. 

“Why is it so bloody dark in here? Haven’t paid the bills, tha’s why you don’t want to see him?” Simon quips. You roll your eyes, smiling under your nose nonetheless, knowing that he won’t see it. You missed him being around.

“Not really. Thought it’s gonna be creepier, you know. Sparkles likes that, just like her owner.” You shrug, following his steps, as he gets deeper into your apartment. Confident, like he actually belongs in the dark, not like you, frightened by it. It’s like he’s used to this.

“Her owner pays the bills, though. And even more,” you say, eyes directly on him. His blonde hair is shorter, not exactly a buzzcut, but close to it; messy, like he did the cut himself or someone who did it was drunk. Black surgical mask covers half of his face, but he’s still in his cargo pants and a bit of military attire, so you guess he came here almost immediately after landing.

You try to ignore how it makes your heart flutter, as he hands you something. “For you.”

“Oh.” You blink, eyes glued to the wrapped gift. It’s a messy wrap, way too much tape there and there, but it can’t wipe off the surprised smile on your face. Pattern is barely visible because of his struggle with packaging, but you recognize cats.

“...Thought it would be appropriate,” he says, breaking the silence, when you carefully open the layers of gift wrap. Multiple of them, when probably just one would be enough, but you do not comment on that. “A gift for takin’ care of Sparkles. And, for your birthday, even if they were a few weeks ago.”

You open your mouth a little. “How did you—”

“—I just remembered. ‘s all,” he cuts you off. Too fast, like he doesn’t want you to ask too many questions.

Too bad that you’re a curious individual.

You raise your eyebrow, amused. “Simon, I didn’t tell you when I have my birthday.”

He huffs, sitting comfortably on the couch. Manspreading, taking off his mask. He tosses it on the table, near the big candle you lit maybe an hour ago. “You did.”

You cross your arms on your chest. There’s a fire in you, slowly igniting; you need to push him a little into answering. Admitting what you know he did because there’s no power in the world to convince you that you told him. “I’d remember it.”

He rolls his eyes. They’re almost black in that dim light, as you sit right in front of him on the armchair. Dangerous, telling you to drop it. You almost hear it in your head. “Just unwrap the gift.”

“Did you…” you gasp. Theatrically, just to annoy him even more, as you see how his jaw tenses. “You looked through my account, hm? Instagram, probably? Facebook?”

“Suddenly a crime, that is?” A quick question; maybe a little nervous, but he’s more amused by your revelation. Or he’s putting on a facade.

“Not a crime. I find it funny that you just won’t admit it openly.” You stick out your tongue. “Like it is a crime. It’s just cute that you want to know something about me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Unwrap it finally, hm?”

It takes one eye roll from you to do what he says. Despite the messy packaging, you do it slowly, as you have no idea what is in there—and you really don’t want to ruin the gift, whatever it is. 

That gets you thinking: in theory, he doesn’t know what you like. You reckon he doesn’t have experience in this type of field, as the guys in the military probably just buy each other a drink and call it a day. Here, it seems like he wanted to do something more than that, more memorable than taking you out. 

There’s a high possibility that he asked your best friend, but you doubt that he’d do something like this. He seems like the type of man that would rather die and go his ways than actually asking someone for help. Especially in something so cheesy, maybe vulnerable for a guy like him, a machine out there in the field that doesn’t allow anyone to see what is going on inside his head.

It takes minutes, but you finally unwrap the gift, excited like a kid. Your hands shake a little when you see a small box—it takes one look at Simon, him nodding, and you open it, carefully. Like there’s something expensive in it, which, as you learn second later, is completely true.

Golden necklace with a hand stamped pendant; partially hidden sun behind the waves of the ocean. It’s delicate, nothing too fancy, but you know how pricey these things can be. It’s hard to find someone who does these things anyway, and now…

"I... don't know what to say,” you whisper out. Shocked, emotional. Not quite believing what you see right now.

He snorts. "A simple 'thank you' would be alright."

“Simon, it’s… beautiful. I just—”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugs, his gaze not meeting yours; he’s looking at Sparkles that bites his fingers right now in the little play they have. Unconsciously, you smile—there’s a thought in your head that you could honestly get used to this. Him, here on your couch, playing with his cat. Your cat, too. “Just a gift.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you murmur, trying to fasten a necklace. It doesn’t work; you are either too distracted, or it’s literally impossible, so you look at your friend. “Could you…?”

You know that he’s amused by this first comment, when you see a glint in his eyes. “More a promise, than a threat.”

You sigh, smiling under your nose. It’s hard to ignore how excited you seem. “Help me, please?”

He doesn’t comment on that this time; just does what you asked him to. Slowly, observing how you take a look in the camera of your phone with a flash on, trying to get the best angle—and honestly, the necklace looks straight up from your dreams. Shiny, simple in a way, but so meaningful considering that Simon had to take care of it on deployment. 

Or, earlier. Nonetheless, the gesture itself makes you feel giddy inside.

“Pretty,” he hums, tilting his head to the side. Focusing not only on jewelry, but partially looking at your face too, maybe wanting to get your reaction. Too focused on your gift, you don’t see how his jaw tightens and he has to inhale.

“Pretty,” you agree—and you finally look at him. He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, just looks at your mirror reflection. “Something’s wrong?”

“I should get going.”

You blink, confused. Right now? Right now he has to go, when he just came here… five, ten minutes ago? You try to find if you did anything wrong, but nothing comes to your head. “What?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly thinking about something. You aren’t allowed to go there. “I just… should. You had enough of my shit goin’ around, you have to get some sleep.”

Desperately, you try to grab on whatever excuse you can to prevent him from going. You just got him back, you don’t quite understand why he wants to go right now. Not when you just were talking with him. “What? No, you can… stay, it won’t do any damage.”

“I have to get some too. Besides, I came here on foot, so—”

“—It’s dark, do you even think? I can drive you on my way to work, if you don’t have anything to do.”

“Dove—”

“Please, Simon.” It leaves your mouth quicker than you wanted to. A plea, something you’d normally be too embarrassed to say, if the conditions would be different. Right now, you can’t care less when you had him only for minutes.

“Just—”

“—seriously. Stay. You can sleep on the couch, whatever, but I won’t let you go when you’re tired as shit. I want you to relax, have a coffee or tea, hell, I can even make you a sandwich because it doesn’t require—” you stop, only a surprised gasp leaving your mouth, as he pulls you into his lap. Confident, like a conversation minute ago didn't happen at all. 

“You ever… stop talkin’?” He tilts his head to the side. You can’t tell if he’s rather amused or… else.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Figured that out,” he murmurs, a hand on your cheek. “I’ll stay, just stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And make those sandwiches.” Simon gets up with you, snaked around his figure. When you don’t back out, he raises his eyebrow—a clear indication for you to take a step back; which, you do.`

He cuts some vegetables, when you move candles to the kitchen to see better, playing with your necklace. Doing that, you see something that you missed when you first looked at the jewelry. 

There’s a little “S” on the back of the pendant.

He personalized it. 

[gildcdwings]

( the local park, october 5, afternoon ) @anchoragestarters

Looking around at the crowds of people milling about the park that Saturday afternoon, Bernadette wondered belatedly if this was a horrible idea. Call it immersion therapy if you want, but for some God-forsaken reason, the illustrator got it in her head recently that the best way to beat her aversion to crowded places filled with strangers was to stick herself right in the middle of one. She had to take a moment to remind herself that this undertaking was ultimately to help her mother, and that if she got overwhelmed at any point, she could easily blend right into the crowds and slink back home to the safety and seclusion of her apartment. But she couldn't sulk off in defeat until she'd at least made an attempt to find the animals that had escaped from the veterinary clinic. And how best to go about this? She supposed she'd just have to ask around.

Cautiously clearing her throat as she steeled herself for the challenge, Bernie approached the first person that crossed her path. "Excuse me. I'm sure you must have heard what happened at the local vet a few days ago. There was an escape of sorts, so a lot of animals are roaming free around town. I was just curious: have you seen any packs of stray animals recently? We've been searching, but a lead would be helpful to steer us in the right direction," she explained, trying to mirror the verbiage used by the reporters in her orbit at work.

[maryland-officially]

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, television North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe

Rosenbergs, H-bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom Brando, "The King and I", and "The Catcher in the Rye" Eisenhower, Vaccine, England's got a new queen Marciano, Liberace, Santayana, goodbye

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it

Joseph Stalin, Malenkov, Nasser and Prokofiev Rockefeller, Campanella, Communist Bloc Roy Cohn, Juan Peron, Toscanini, Dacron Dien Bien Phu falls, "Rock Around the Clock"

Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn's got a winning team Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland Bardot, Budapest, Alabama, Krushchev Princess Grace, Peyton Place, Trouble in the Suez

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it

Little Rock, Pasternak, Mickey Mantle, Kerouac Sputnik, Chou En-Lai, "Bridge on the River Kwai" Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball Starkweather homicide, children of thalidomide

Buddy Holly, Ben Hur, space monkey, mafia Hula hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go U2, Syngman Rhee, Payola and Kennedy Chubby Checker, Psycho, Belgians in the Congo

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it

Hemingway, Eichmann, "Stranger in a Strange Land" Dylan, Berlin, Bay of Pigs invasion "Lawrence of Arabia", British Beatlemania Ole Miss, John Glenn, Liston beats Patterson Pope Paul, Malcolm X, British politician sex JFK – blown away, what else do I have to say?

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it

Birth control, Ho Chi Minh, Richard Nixon back again Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock Begin, Reagan, Palestine, terror on the airline Ayatollah's in Iran, Russians in Afghanistan

"Wheel of Fortune", Sally Ride, heavy metal suicide Foreign debts, homeless vets, AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz Hypodermics on the shore, China's under martial law Rock and roller, cola wars, I can't take it anymore

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire But when we are gone It will still burn on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it

We didn't start the fire It was always burning, since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it, but we tried to fight it

What