I know right? Hiring a well known, versatile actor as the lead in a movie?! What da fuck?!?!?!!>!
AND TO THINK PEOPLE SKIP NINE.
AND TO THINK, PEOPLE SKIP TWENTY SIX YEARS OF THE SHOW’S HISTORY BECAUSE IT’S NOT TRENDY
why is every author a #1 bestselling author
They’re not. It’s just that the majority of people who “Love to read” actually “Love to read mainstream pulp that’s been spoonfed to to them by the media”
Why is this rule 63 so…..good?
this is really cute!!!
Because instead if just “BEWBS” the artist actually took time to put in details in the characters in an original way.
Each girl isn’t the same body type and their personality come out through, not only expression but visual ques.
Like how they wear their bandannas. Mikie has a bow symbolizing child-like innocence. Raph’s is all torn up. and Leo’s is longer, drawing us to “the leader”.
Ironically, Donnie got the short stick. Aside from the tooth gap, she looks kinda plain.
anD THEY EVEN HAVE ALL DIFFERENT CHEST SIZES
Oh my gods, Raph’s thighs <3
Someone add a male Venus!
OH MY FUCKING GOD. Getting angry or frustrated or sad anytime you see a certain word/phrase/post, etc., is not what being “triggered” means. If that were the case, EVERY SINGLE MINUTE I SPEND ON TUMBLR, I’M SPENDING BEING TRIGGERED. Which is flat out stupid beyond belief. If EVERYTHING is a trigger for you - if getting mildly upset at something is a definition of “trigger” for you, how in the ever-living fuck do you survive in the real world? Seriously. Holy shit.
Loki doesn’t dance on any fucking line. Loki is evil. Loki does whatever’s best for Loki.
Loki wants to conquer the world, so sometimes he has to save the world so that he can conquer it later.
The Yes Campaign has been met with nothing but adversity, every step of the way. Fear mongerers have spread lies about us and demanded we answer their questions; and we have done so.
It is time for the No Campaign to do the same.
This actually did happen to a real person, and the real person was me. I had gone to catch a train. This was April 1976, in Cambridge, U.K. I was a bit early for the train. I’d gotten the time of the train wrong.
I went to get myself a newspaper to do the crossword, and a cup of coffee and a packet of cookies. I went and sat at a table.
I want you to picture the scene. It’s very important that you get this very clear in your mind.
Here’s the table, newspaper, cup of coffee, packet of cookies. There’s a guy sitting opposite me, perfectly ordinary-looking guy wearing a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
It didn’t look like he was going to do anything weird. What he did was this: he suddenly leaned across, picked up the packet of cookies, tore it open, took one out, and ate it.
Now this, I have to say, is the sort of thing the British are very bad at dealing with. There’s nothing in our background, upbringing, or education that teaches you how to deal with someone who in broad daylight has just stolen your cookies.
You know what would happen if this had been South Central Los Angeles. There would have very quickly been gunfire, helicopters coming in, CNN, you know… But in the end, I did what any red-blooded Englishman would do: I ignored it. And I stared at the newspaper, took a sip of coffee, tried to do a clue in the newspaper, couldn’t do anything, and thought, what am I going to do?
In the end I thought, nothing for it, I’ll just have to go for it, and I tried very hard not to notice the fact that the packet was already mysteriously opened. I took out a cookie for myself. I thought, that settled him. But it hadn’t because a moment or two later he did it again. He took another cookie.
Having not mentioned it the first time, it was somehow even harder to raise the subject the second time around. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice …” I mean, it doesn’t really work.
We went through the whole packet like this. When I say the whole packet, I mean there were only about eight cookies, but it felt like a lifetime. He took one, I took one, he took one, I took one. Finally, when we got to the end, he stood up and walked away.
Well, we exchanged meaningful looks, then he walked away, and I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back. A moment or two later the train was coming in, so I tossed back the rest of my coffee, stood up, picked up the newspaper, and underneath the newspaper were my cookies.
The thing I like particularly about this story is the sensation that somewhere in England there has been wandering around for the last quarter-century a perfectly ordinary guy who’s had the same exact story, only he doesn’t have the punch line.
If we can’t write diversity into sci-fi, then what’s the point? You don’t create new worlds to give them all the same limits of the old ones.
my dick has a lot in common with the sun
nobody likes looking directly at it?
It gives people cancer?
woAh woah woah
It rises at the crack of dawn?
it disappears at night?
direct exposure often leads to a nasty case of sunburn?
it needs to stay approximately 92,960,000 miles away from me?
nobody will ever touch it?
it collapses in on itself after it expands?
I’m going to re-watch all episodes with River in them and nothing can stop me
Watch them in River’s order
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