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PolSci majors, what does it mean when judges want their own security service because the official security services are more loyal to a felon rapist than they are to the rule of law?

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alvvays // “archie, marry me”

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no animal was harmed during the making of this video. not one. for the few minutes that we were shooting film, the guns of each hunter fell silent. the industrial bolt throwers observed a moment's peace and the jaws of every predator hung softly open. no fish bit any hook and the bait worms held off on drowning only until the cameras stopped. the tails of ruminants ceased to flick just as their attendant flies, in unison, landed on their flanks to catch their tiny breaths. a spider instantly stopped winding silk around a wasp, patiently waiting for the caesura to end. a young veterinarian paused with the syringe in their hand. somewhere, a colicky baby stopped biting its mother's nipple and nursed happily for the very first time. we're sorry. we're sorry it couldn't have been longer. we didn't know this would happen.

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just met a three month old pomeranian named horchata. her paw was the size of my fingertip. she looked like half a dandelion fluff

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your post made me laugh bro. and yet, i am troubled

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Blood test results are back. 0’s across the board, dry as a bone under the hood, they’re not sure what they’ve got in those vials but it recoils from light and lunges towards living tissue, which is all normal for girls these days.

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rotting

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So last month I got hit by a car and died right. Which I didn't initially realize until I watched some guy haul my body into his pickup and drive off. Which, being that it's deep in rural Michigan, I assume means my body will make some venison jerky and maybe some wall decoration, and I'll be resigned to being one of hundreds of deer ghosts floating around Saginaw, which is w/e. But then I find out the guy works at a taxidermy shop or something, and he's actually pretty good at stuffing and mounting deer carcasses, which I come to find out when I find myself face to face with my old body in the shop window. So naturally, I figure since ghosts need to possess something to interact with the living world and etc etc etc the most logical thing to do is to possess my own body, since it's basically a statue of myself. And a little surprisingly, it actually fits like a glove. Like, since it's my body, it feels like stepping right back into place. So I get out of town and back to my herd, eventually. And that's where the trouble starts coming into it, because after I get settled again, I don't know how to explain to everyone else what feels so weird. Like since I can move my body and do everything I used to do, it's functionally the same, like nothing happened. Or it SHOULD be, so I don't know how to explain how it's NOT. But it's just hard to explain it to someone who's never been hit by a truck I guess

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“chop chop! time is ass okra!” says Accordion Man to Ricky from Trailer Park Boys

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i used to have no hope for the future but now i'm thinking. i want rich people food. i want rare sirloin steak. i've never had sirloin steak in my life. i think i want to try it before i die.

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one of the great problems of my life is that every so often i am struck by the desire to read the worm poem except i can never remember the name of either poet or piece so i must beseech my liege lord (friend who showed me the poem) and beg him to pass on his divine knowledge (resend the email for the twentieth time)

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my grandmas dawg

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Matloaf wednesday ar e ack. if you even care