I have long said that in order for any comedy to truly succeed as a story, there has to be meat beneath the jokes. There has to be that moment when it is not funny any more.
– weighted a grapefruit in my hands to see if i could justifiably describe something as “weighing as much as a grapefruit”
– done jumping jacks for 5 minutes straight so the memory of how exertion feels would be fresh in my mind
– googled images of butterscotch to see if “butterscotch” could be a hair colour
– casually stared at people at bus stops trying to figure out how i would hypothetically recreate their image in words
– written 7 different beginnings for a story to see which one i liked best
– gone to venice
– enthusiastically spoken dialogue aloud to myself to see how it sounds
– tried to read 3 books in one day
– experienced terrible things, reacting with “i can write about this”
– screamed incoherently at someone for turning on the tv while i was in the room, writing
– sat there perfectly still staring into space trying to imagine what getting a boner feels like
– “hey re-enact this scene with me”
– sat upside-down for ten minutes trying to get my brain to work
– squandered schoolwork and free time alike for years
– written
I’m alarmed by how familiar some of these feel to me.
i was once told that i was making terrorist threats because i was talking to a friend of mine about possibly killing off a character and some bitch who was eavesdropping started lecturing me so : )
probably my fave thing about norse mythology is that nobody in scandinavia knew what mistletoe was so you end up with descriptions of it everywhere from some kind of tree to straight up a fucking magic sword
like mistletoe irl is this dweeb-ass parasitic motherfucker not entirely unlike somebody kicked a soccer ball into a tree, but it didnt grow in iceland or denmark and only grew in a few places in norway or sweden, but word on the street 1300 years ago was that misteltān down in england was pretty fucking magical n next thing you know it’s getting calqued to mistelteinn, and –teinn is only really used in sword names so it’s gotta be pretty badass right?
in denmark it becomes, understandably, a magic sword, and in iceland an oddly sword- or spear-shaped tree: “stóð um vaxinn, | vollom hæri, / miór oc mioc fagr | mistelteinn”, per voluspá.
anyway there’s no moral here i just think the idea of throwing mistletoe at somebody and them just……dropping dead for some gd reason is fucking hilarious, so @snorri i hate you with a passion but thanks for this
i just realized neither of those sources are english nor in fact in living languages, sorry im like this. here’s gesta danorum iii in english, it describes höðr using a magic sword that allows him to strike down the demigod baldr. and the old norse reads “stood full-grown, | high above the plain, / slender and very beautiful | was the mistletoe”, which… in no way, shape, or form is an accurate description of mistletoe. höðr proceeds to throw the whole fucking plant at baldr’s head and that just….kills him…….apparently………
Are…are you telling me…the legendary sword Mysteltainn…is just “the mistletoe sword (whatever the hell mistletoe is)”???
QueerGalaxies 
