SO THIS GUY IN MY ENGLISH IS DOING A PROJECT FOR BIO WHERE HE GETS A DUCKLING TO IMPRINT ON HIM SO HE JUST CARRIES IT AROUND WITH HIM TO ALL OF HIS CLASSES AND I SWEAR THIS DUCK IS THE MOST WELL BEHAVED FUCKING POULTRY IVE EVER SEEN IT JUST SITS ON HIS DESK QUIETLY AND SOMETIMES HE PUTS IT IN HIS POCKET AND IT JUST SLEEPS LIKE WOW YOU GO DUCKY
[AGGRESSIVELY THROWS OSCARS AT THE ENTIRE SPN CAST]
I’m so sorry.
quick, Leo, catch one
its getting better with time
GIRLS! GIRLS! THE CITY IS UNDER ATTACK!
WE’RE ON IT MONSIEUR LE MAYOR!
BLOSSOM!
BUBBLES!
BUTTERCUP!
YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT ME!
MOJOJOJO!
#sometimes i cry a lot about sam and ruby being samson and delilah #i mean he was like a mythical figure to her a bit wasn’t he #the vessel of lucifer #and here she is#she has the most important job #seduce him #love him #weaken him and strengthen him #again and again she decieved him and made it look like the fault of others #and she waits patient #until he falls for her #and in her lap he sleeps #in the story delilah cuts samson’s hair and his strength and the lord leave him #and here she seduces him with body and blood and he gets stronger but he becomes a thing he hates #a monster #despite his good intentions he is blind #and the lord leaves him #samson is blind and filled with regret and when he can he pulls down an entire temple and kills the philistines #and sacrifices himself in the process #and his brothers mourn him and bury him #and i cannot get over how very like samson sam is (via Sherlurker.)
A Proud Moment.
I don’t have a degree in eating blocks of cream cheese, which sucks because I’m sure it would add a lot of value to my CV. (Instead, I have “lying, poorly”. Does that count?).
I did eat a block of cream cheese once, though. I remember it fondly, because it was one of the proudest moments of my life. This probably says a lot about me, though god only knows what.
I used to be part of a youth group, which is to say, yes, I was part of a church once. I was the “youth leader”, which is the church’s way of saying, “you are the only person in the youth group who doesn’t roll your eyes at us, when we talk to you.” What they did not know is that - aside from not actually being terribly religious - I had made the youth minister my sworn enemy.
He was a weird guy. Very young; not too bright, frankly. Had a goatee, because the law requires all youth ministers to have goatees. It’s true. Look it up. He told us that Mormons owned Pepsi-Cola, and that The Gay Agenda created yaoi to recruit young men, the latter of which “fact” was really, really funny. A lot of the things he did were not so funny. Once, we went to a nursing home, where he decided to jump up and down in the elevator. He knew, of course, that I had an elevator phobia. I asked him to stop. He began sing-screaming, LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN, FALLING DOWN, FALLING DOWN as he jumped. A chaperone asked him to stop, couldn’t he see I was afraid? I backed into the corner and crouched there, clinging to the railing. That was the day he became more than just a moron. That was the day I decided I would make his youth-group life a hell.
Most of the time, all I had to do was ask real questions about the Bible, and then ask him questions about his answers, and so on and so forth until he ran out of excuses, or said something deeply embarrassing. One day, he was trying to explain why it was still totally okay for parents to stone their kids to death for disobeying. He was flustered; inarticulate. I pulled a room-temperature block of Philadelphia cream cheese. He watched me unwrap it as he rambled on. I took a bite. I locked eyes. I did not look away. I ate in silence. There was confusion written all over his features. His sentences tumbled apart into further incoherence, and faded away. He was afraid.
I cherish that moment.This is the greatest story I’ve ever heard that directly involved cream cheese.