I love this and I think it’s especially great when you know that on the show kitchen nightmares, where this is from, Gordon goes out of his way to establish a rapport with servers because they are the ones who have to deal with angry and upset customers when the food sucks. This server has been serving shit food to people who give her shit for it, probably for sub minimum wage, possibly for years, and now she has the chance to expose the people who put her in that position in front of a celebrity chef on national television and I think we can all share in her glee. She’s not just chaotic evil, she’s a working class hero.
Idk i always read this as an example of chaotic good, not chaotic evil. She’s doing the right thing for the right reasons while breaking established “rules” by her bosses.
so all marvel had to do to get the hair to stand up on tom holland’s arm was have someone behind him gently blow in his ear… they’re really gonna do my boy dirty and expose his ear kink like that huh…
tom holland: [leaks every marvel spoiler he can get his hands on]
marvel: lmao…. anyways did y’all know tom holland likes it when people mess with his ears
Our non-binary hero travels throughout the land defeating cissexist mythical beasts and being the legal loophole in gender-specific prophecies and curses, just because they can
this comic is now two years old!! I still haven’t really developed this further but I’m definitely planning on coming back to Lock and co. soon, there’s still a lot of potential to be had here and I want to make the most of it
Normally I’m on the Dragon’s side, being a monster myself with beef against the established order, but cissexist dragons, by all means, can get punted off the tower and slain by our non-binary hero.
does anyone else with intrusive thoughts do that weird dismissive head shake when they get them to kinda like.. reverse/reject the thought or is that just me
Gotta shake your brain like an etch-n-sketch and start over
[Image Description: Tags reading “sometimes it just sorta happens, one minute your bro is letting you check out his dick, the next…whoops”]
The AO3 Tag of the Day is: True
hemingway and fitzgerald
Ok, I actually thought about making that the caption but I thought it’d be too obscure so I’m glad someone else thought it was funny.
op please explain
It is my great delight to share this with you.
Ok. So, one day, when Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Fitzgerald’s wife Zelda are all living in Paris, Fitzgerald goes to Hemingway and says that he has a very serious problem and can they please get lunch together because he needs some advice. Hemingway says ok, and they go get lunch. Eventually, when they’ve made small talk all the way through the meal, Fitzgerald gets to the point. He says:
Zelda said that the way I was built I could never make any woman happy and that was what upset her originally. She said it was a matter of measurements.
Well Hemingway is of course delighted to reassure his friend, so they head to the bathroom so Hemingway can get a look. Whereupon, (and the “I” here is Hemingway):
We came back into the room and sat down at the table. “You’re perfectly fine,” I said. “You are O.K. There’s nothing wrong with you. You look at yourself from above and you look foreshortened. Go over to the Louvre and look at the people in the statues then go home and look at yourself in the mirror.” “Those statues may not be accurate.” “They are pretty good. Most people would settle for them.”
So then, because this story isn’t ridiculous enough already, they actually do go to the Louvre to check out all the statues’ dicks. As one does. Then Hemingway wrote all of this up in his memoir, because he was an asshole.
Moral of the story: respect your friends’ privacy. Also, compare your dick to a statue’s if you’re insecure.
I went for a walk in the nature, and I took a path that was completely new to me.
I kept walking, when I came across a cute house surrounded by flowers. A little child was watering the plants, and a woman insisted to offer me a glass of water. I didn’t know her, but she was a friend of my uncle’s sister, apparently. We talked for a bit, then she told me to follow her, because she wanted to show me the laboratory where her husband produces honey. There he was, working.
He gave me a piece of honeycomb to chew on, then he showed me the complete process to make honey. Finally, he gave me a jar as a gift. The woman explained to me how to go back to town, and she walked me to the bridge I would have to cross. That looked surreal too.
I feel like the house won’t be there if I ever go back. It was beautiful.
You met an ancient family of Italian fairies and you got their blessing
I still think it’s hilarious that the reason nobody ever figures out Superman’s secret identity or where he lives or what he does when he’s not saving the planet, is because he already told them all the Kryptonian stuff that can’t be tied to any of his human friends or family. I guarantee you the in-universe wikipedia article on Superman lists his name as Kal-El and the “personal life” section says that he lives full-time at his private fortress of solitude at the north pole. Nobody in the world looks at Clark Kent and thinks “oh my god, maybe he’s superman!” for the same reason nobody ever starts to suspect that their coworker who looks KINDA like Barack Obama is actually secretly Barack Obama – They know who Barack Obama is and know what he does and they know their coworker Greg is Greg and not Barack Obama. They have no reason to assume Barack Obama secretly moonlights as Greg The IT Guy at their workplace even though they’ve never seen Greg and Obama in the same place. At best, “Greg is secretly Obama” would be a running joke at the office, and the same is true at the Daily Planet. “Kal-El of Krypton, who lives in a CRYSTAL PALACE at the NORTH POLE and whose dayjob is SUPERMAN, sometimes puts on a suit and pretends to be a clumsy reporter and lives in a one-bedroom walkup in Metropolis” is a ridiculous concept to anyone who doesn’t already know it’s true
“Hey, that— that guy, in the corner, is that— is that Superman?”
Clark looks up from his computer at the new intern. “Oh, no,” he says. “You caught me.”
“Clark, you pull this shit every time, man,” his desk neighbor Steve says. “Shut the fuck up.”
“No, the kid’s right, I’m Superman,” Clark says. He gets out of his seat and cracks his back out. “I guess we’re gonna have a superhero fight.”
“Clark, sit back down.”
“Nope. Superhero fight.”
“Clark if you don’t sit the hell back down and finish your article by lunch I am going to tell Perry on you.”
Clark points at the intern. “You get off easy this time, buddy,” he says, and sits back down.
“So…” the intern says, very lost. “Uh…”
“That’s Clark,” a slightly older and more experienced intern says. “He’s Superman’s asshole twin.”
and any time someone gets a little too speculative about batman’s secret identity, bruce wayne spills champagne down a supermodel’s décolettage and the world collectively goes “naaaah”
QueerGalaxies 