will never understand all the vocabulary struggles star wars fanfiction writers talk about. what do you mean you cant use the idiom "a dime a dozen" because they dont have dimes in star wars? put the word "space" before it. a space dime a dozen. bam. skill issue
watching the Thing and like
it’s a mound of flesh, right? and it keeps forming eyes capable of looking at you. and the longer you look at it, the more openings appear. and at first the openings are full of what looks like legs, which move aside to reveal a flower, which unfurls to reveal a fleshy orifice studded with teeth moving towards you with great power and longing.
and it’s like, the central tragedy is that none of these men know each other on a level intimate enough to see through the imitation. when keith david turns and asks them how they’re supposed to tell if he’s an imitation or not, none of them can honestly say that they know him well enough to test how deeply it runs; he may as well be a stranger to him. when baby slut kurt russell mentions that the long johns could be anybody’s, it means that he isn’t able to tell whose they are by taking a good long whiff of the crotch and armpits. the secret weapon that could have successfully circumvented the thing was the time these men should have spent intimately exploring each other’s bodies. I have a job interview tomorrow. I need to get this out of my system now.
having by now gotten the job for which I was interviewing, I think where I was going with this was that, the constantly moving shifting expanding de-categorizing of the Thing is its own horror vehicle by virtue of the fact that every other body in that film very much wants to be its own discrete category, unknowable and untouchable to the other bodies around it. and the more you look at the Thing, the more there is of it; the more openings it has, the more eyes it will form for which to see you, the more limbs it will form for which to touch and know you. and these men do not want to touch and see and know each other. they do not want the joyous erotic sound of each other's stevie wonder albums to enter their ears. they do not want the joint that touches their lips to touch the lips of another man. the first and only horror of the Thing is its drive to touch and know and queer the coherent category that is the human body. I will be washing dishes in the back of a bakery while blasting mongolian throat singing if anyone has any further questions.
"August," 2024.
Watercolor on hot press. 7.125 x 11.125”
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Prints of 'August' have been added to my shop (and Etsy) ♥
this is so mean but so funny. slay in peace
So which one is the Buck and which one is the Tommy
I do wholeheartedly believe Wes Anderson is a sick sick freak. I like his movies but I definitely think this guy has like a hidden room in his spacious french apartment that he slips into quietly each night and it is just filled with tiny little doll replicas of all the actors he’s ever used in any of his movies and he puppets them around and mimicks their voices and shit. and sometimes he’ll text Owen Wilson pictures of his little doll with a comb or something from an untraceable number and pair it with like “see how I take care of you Owen?” and then the following day Owen Wilson will find him at the service table and go, “Geez Wes look at this,” and Wes will pretend to be all concerned and horrified but there is this calculating almost eager look in his eyes that unsettles Owen Wilson. and the next time Wes is having a little soiree with all his actors, his beloved beloved actors, maybe Owen Wilson will accidentally get lost on his way to the beautiful bathroom and find that little room and see all those dolls and his throat will hitch with horror. And before he can call Bill Murray or Adrian Brody to look a dark silhouette will appear in the doorway and Wes looks sort of resigned when he says, “I see you finally found my secret, Owen,” and Owen Wilson will try and pretend that he’s fine with it but they both know better. and Wes will go (the look in his eyes back again) “We both know this can’t get out, right?” and he’ll grin very suddenly and Owen Wilson will laugh along very nervously and leave the room and eat some brioche and when the evening is over he will rush over to his Prius and frantically click his keys but over the cobbles on the beautiful beautiful street there is the sound of footsteps. and tears are running down Owen Wilson’s cheeks but he can’t say a word and Wes, emerging from the shadows, will gently touch him on the shoulder and say, “look, I’ll drive you to the airport, huh?” and Owen Wilson will try to refuse but they both know it’s futile. and, halfway through the drive, Wes Anderson will smile and say, “I’ll miss working with you” and then perfectly jump and roll out of the car, wiping off his corduroy pants, while Owen Wilson’s Prius swerves into a local patisserie, bursting into flames
This is the content I am here for.
Night Owls Rejoice: A Neon-Lit Time Capsule in Albuquerque, 1986 ฆ‰ŒŒ
it’s a great time to be a hater, many things are bad and lots of stuff sucks. it’s also a terrible time to be a hater, because many people will insist that you have to like the bad thing because a company spent millions of dollars making it and it’s just not very nice to say it’s bad
hating is ultimately a philosophy of optimism. the knowledge that things could be better, and the desire to see them improve, differentiates it from the pessimism of idle consumption.
JULIE & JULIA 2009 | dir. Nora Ephron
Today — June 20, 2024 — is the northern summer solstice. In the Northern Hemisphere, it marks the longest day of the year and the official start to summer.
i hope that when i die there will be an apartment with everyone i’ve ever loved in it and we are together always
neil hilborn
So I think I might be bi? But if I am it changes almost nothing about my life because I am happily and monogamously married. But if it doesn't really matter, why do I have so many feelings about it???? Anyways, I am asking you because it seems like there is a 50/50 chance of a delightful and pithy answer or a picture of a bird as an answer.
How do you get so much EXPRESSION from a (line-drawn) 2D swan?!
Birdtender Tea. No no.. it’s Bi-tender Tea. Bi-BirdTeader?
It’s Just Boilt Twigs
Indika ☦️
