Writing on Water.
Sometimes I am sinfully envious of the visually artistic.
This is honestly one of the mot beautiful things ever.
rad
holy shit
Oh my God
Oh
wow
this is wonderful.
(via nope-bye)
- Class is too quiet
- Stomach: Ladies and gentlemen I shall play you the song of my people.
people who have autoplay on their blog are bad enough
but people who have hidden autoplay have truly ascended from the fiery depths of hell, sent by satan himself
(Source: incises)
(Source: shitshilarious, via lucificious)
Let’s face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on. English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.
I wonder if the young girls playing on the trampoline next door know that
- I can see them
- I can hear them singing You Can’t Stop The Beat from Hairspray
- they are really bad singers and
- I can probably get a YouTube-worthy video of them from my current position
GUYS I PUT ON MY COUSINS HOCKEY MASK AND STOOD AT THE WINDOW AND YELLED “STOP YOUR INFERNAL SINGSONG I’M TRYING TO MURDER HERE” AND THEY SCREAMED AND TRIED TO RUN AWAY AND ONE FELL OVER AND STARTED CRYING
(Source: thorhead)
(via seeraah)
1st June 2012
Back up plans needed.
So my day started off rather well for a change, I passed all of my NABs which was a surprise but I was then told that my course tutor and one of my lecturers wanted to have another meeting with me.
I went to the pub at lunch before said meeting and had a bevvy or two, or maybe three. Went into my meeting (still sober) and was told that because I missed placement ONCE since I singed an attendance contract, I am not being allowed to progress onto the next course. Well, fuck. So I then decided to go back to the pub and returned to my afternoon class completely pished.
So I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do next year as what jobs could there possibly be for an unqualified 18 year old? Wonderful, right?
Also, my poor baby dog had to get put down on Tuesday, so I have been letting our other dog sleep on my bed so she doesn’t get too lonely without her baby. The old shit takes up an entire double bed to herself - this surprised me as she’s only a little dog. I haven’t been sleeping too well because of this, but fuck it.
So my day didn’t end too well until I went to see my darling other half - miss Bridget McMillypants and had a wee bit of a fat day and I believe I ate myself into a food coma. It was marvellous.
Love life.
