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Shit just got real
(Source: kitten-little, via robdelaney)
I just learned how to make.gifs so I figured for the learning process I’d choose some faces I never seem to sicken of.Check out “USS Cooks and Cleans” in all its glory here.
The doorbell rings and my mother answers it. “Linda, it’s for you!” she hollers. “Who is it?”
“1983 Wayne Gretzky!” The dreamiest of all Wayne Gretzkys! I exclaim to myself, quickly removing the last of my hot curlers, letting the hair fall about my face as I run down our stairs. He is charming my mother with hilarious anecdotes about his exciting career. He’s talking about hockey, but makes it accessible, so my mom isn’t bored. I respect that. He pulls a corsage from behind his back. It is red and white, like our nation’s flag. I blush as he puts it on my wrist and my mom says goodbye to us as we walk toward his convertible. It is a windy night. I am underdressed, having chosen an outift with perfect boob to leg ratio, but not enough cold weather coverage, and I wasn’t banking on an open roof. He notices my shiver and pulls off his Oilers sweater and offers it to me. I refuse but he insists. Such a gentleman.
“Where are we going, 1983 Wayne Gretzky?”
“it’s a surprise.” he sasy, with a smile that could sell a million boxes of NHL All Stars Cereal. What is he up to? I don’t mind being taken along for the ride.
He blindfolds me with a clean hockey sock and holds my hand, guiding me where he wants me to go.
“Open your mouth!”
“Oh no you don’t, fool me once, shame on me…”
I am interruptd by a squeaking cheese curd, covered in gravy. Poutine…how did he know? He removes the sock. We are on a Zamboni. There are two bottles of wine, one red, one white,with a bottle of whiskey in the middle. He knows I like to get fucked up. I like that.
We talk about everything and nothing. His stories are fascinating and mine are not, but he listens attentively and laughs at all the right parts. He parks the zamboni and looks into my eyes. “Oh…1983 Wayne Gretzky!” He leans in to me. I think you know what happens next. I wasn’t cold anymore.
hey I didn’t get an invite to your bar mitzvah but maciek was talking about it, so what gives!?
I saw his status on fb
That was like…11 years ago.
Maciek and I were bffs. Not sure why he’s talking about it publicly now though. We aren’t friends anymore.
Are you embarrassed and lying
Yes.
I didn’t know you wanted to come.
Sorry.
Obvi. I better be at your next jewish sacrament.
It wasn’t even fun. It was a Hanson theme.
Did you dress up or did they play?
Dressed up. We couldn’t get them. I was Taylor.
Do you have vids
My bubby does. She keeps them locked up and watches them before dinner every sabbath.
That is so precious.
Ya she’s great.
Who was Isaac?
I unno. there were like 11 isaacs. it’s kin of a fog since I’m not Jewish anymore. I’m part of the Jesus Christ of later day saints. Mormon life forever.
Latter oops!
ten pages of the booklet “overcoming shyness” *_*
the tendas rewrote it for future generations after ness returned to the book to the library
the whole thing is approximately thirty pages
is there an option to reblog this 50 or more times by clicking it once?? i’d like that
aa-
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; e ;
I love this so much. Haha. I always thought it would be awesome if someone did this.
I love Tendas. I am shy
If you see anything cuter today please share…
(Source: omocat)
glory days!
"I had an interesting morning; I got into an argument with my Rice Krispies. I distinctly heard, “Snap, crackle, fuck you!” I’m not sure which one of them said it; I was reaching for the artificial sweetener at the time and not looking directly into the bowl. But I heard it and I said, “Well, you can all just sit right there in the milk as far as I’m concerned until I find out which one of you said it.” Mass punishment. The idea is to turn them against one another. Silly me. Big punishment! That’s what Rice Krispies do. Sit in the milk. That’s their job. You’ve seen them. Delicate, beige blisters of air, floating proudly in the milk. And you can’t sink them. They refuse to sink. The navy ought to use Rice Krispies in life preservers. That’s where they’re really needed. And do you know how Rice Krispies manage to float for such a long time? By clinging to one another; they buddy up. They gather in little groups of eight, ten, or sometimes twelve, but if you’ve noticed, it’s always an even number. That’s because the electromagnetic polarity of the Krispies attracts them to one another. It binds them into pairs, like subatomic particles. They form little colonies, and you can’t sink them, not even with a spoon. They just come bobbing up over the sides of the spoon, laughing at you and reveling in their buoyancy. Hard to sink. That’s what the fruit is for. Not for added taste; not for nutrition; it’s for sinking the Rice Krispies. Believe me, a good-sized peach, hurled at the bowl full force from a stepladder, can take down eighty or ninety of the little buggers in one glorious splash. And I have absolutely no mercy. If I’m really pissed, I’ll climb up to the upstairs balcony and drop a watermelon on them. That’ll teach them to sass me at breakfast."
George Carlin (via chuckiefinster) (via tonguelash)
