Okay So I'm Just Going To Put This Out There: Y'all Really Need To Learn What A President Can And Cannot

You ever invite your coworker to watch you give birth just to spite a racist

TFW you learn your titty art was found on the walls of a murder scene. Buckle up for this ride!!

So, 5 years ago in Grand Rapids, MI, a body from the neck down was found dumped in a park after a man went to meet someone from Craigslist. His pregnant girlfriend was missing. This is why we don’t meet people off CL, folks.

The police managed to figure out who did it within a few days, but the guy fled, there was a high speed chase the wrong way down the highway, crashed his car, and shot himself in the face before they could get him in custody. Pregnant girlfriend dead in the trunk.

There were a lot of unanswered questions. Like where was the head? His skull was found last week, miles away from where the body had been found, so the story has been back in the news recently, and a friend noticed something… interesting in one of the crime scene photos.

You see, years ago, back when I was with Super Happy Funtime Burlesque, we had an art day where we covered our tits in paint and made prints which we sold at shows. I made this clown titty print as a joke and titled it “Let’s Play Forever.“ We joked at the time of creation that it was a really creepy title but haha whatever. I really didn’t anticipate anyone would actually buy it. I was just painting weird clowns on my titties for fun. Like ya do. #justgirlythings

But apparently this murderer was 1: a big fan of our show and 2: looked at this and thought "Yes THIS is what I need for the kill room. It’s really gonna tie the place together.” I like the floggers on either side of it, really gives it that feeling of if a bot created Stephen King porn.

But here’s the kicker: the murder victim was… 

MY EX ROOMMATE. 

Through sheer coincidence one of the last things SOMEONE I KNEW saw was A PICTURE OF MY CLOWN TITTIES.

What is it like to be a normal person because shit like this happens to me all the time and I just wonder sometimes how most people live their lives free of this kinda chicanery.

I’m just proud to have some of my art hanging in the most prestigious museum of all: a police evidence locker.

A Vulcan named Stork works at the Terran adoption agency. Parents always request that he be the one to deliver their child to them.

Man, Ophelia gets even more screwed in this version.

Hamlet, Scooby-Doo Style

[This is one of the funniest, most brilliant damn things I’ve ever read.  It dates from very early Internet days and I thought it deserved resurrection to Le Tumble]

This recently discovered folio edition of “Hamlet” follows other known versions closely until Act V, Scene II, where it begins to diverge at line 232, as will be seen:

KING: …`Now the king drinks to Hamlet.’ Come, begin, And you the judges, bear a wary eye.

Trumpets sound. HAMLET and LAERTES take their stations

HAMLET: Come on, sir.

LAERTES: Come, my lord.

Enter FRED, DAPHNE, VELMA, SHAGGY, AND SCOOBY

DAPHNE: Wait!

SHAGGY: Stop the fight!

HAMLET and LAERTES put up their foils

KING: I like this not. Say wherefore you do speak?

FRED: Good lord, I pray thee, let thy anger wait. For we, in seeking clues, have found the truth Behind the strange events of latter days.

VELMA: The first clue came from Elsinore’s high walls, Where, so said Hamlet, Hamlet’s ghost did walk. Yet though the elder Hamlet met his death, And perforce hath been buried in the ground, ‘Tis yet true one would not expect a ghost To carry mud upon his spectral boots. Yet mud didst Shaggy and his faithful hound Espy, with footprints leading to a drop. This might, at first, indeed bespeak a ghost… Until, when I did seek for other answers, I found a great, wide cloth of deepest black Discarded in the moat of Elsinore. ‘Tis clear, the “ghost” used this to slow his fall While darkness rendered him invisible.

FRED: The second clue we found, my lord, was this.

KING: It seems to me a portrait of my brother In staine’d glass, that sunlight may shine through.

FRED: But see, my lord, when placed before a lantern–

KING: My brother’s ghost!

HAMLET: My father!

VELMA: Nay, his image.

FRED: In sooth, that image caught the Prince’s eye When he went to confront his lady mother. Nor did his sword pierce poor Polonius. For Hamlet’s blade did mark the castle wall Behind the rent made in the tapestry. Polonius was murdered by another. The knife which killed him entered from behind.

LAERTES: But who?

FRED: Indeed my lords, that you shall see.

HAMLET: And if this ghost was naught but light and air, Then what of that which I did touch and speak to?

The GHOST enters.

GHOST: Indeed, my son.

SHAGGY: Zoinks!

DAPHNE: Jenkies!

GHOST: Mark them not. Thou hast neglected duty far too long. Shall this, my murderer, live on unharmed? Must I remain forever unavenged?

SCOOBY and SHAGGY run away from the GHOST. SCOOBY, looking backward, runs into a tapestry, tearing it down. As a result, tapestries around the walls collapse, one surrounding the GHOST.

GHOST: What?

FRED: Good Osric, pray restrain that “ghost”, That we may reach the bottom of the matter. Now let us see who truly walked tonight.

FRED removes the helm and the disguise from the GHOST’S face.

ALL: Tis Fortinbras!

FRED: The valiant prince of Norway!

FORTINBRAS: Indeed it is, and curses on you all! This Hamlet’s father brought my own to death, And cost me all my rightful heritage. And so I killed this king, and hoped his son Would prove no obstacle to Norway’s crown. Then Claudius bethought himself the killer (As if one might be poisoned through the ear!) The brother, not the son, took Denmark’s throne, And held to Norway with a tighter grip. I swore an end to Denmark’s royal house. I spoke to Hamlet of his uncle’s crimes. Then killed Polonius to spark Laertes. This day, with poison’s aid, all might have died, And Denmark might have come to me as well As my beloved Norway and revenge. My scheme blinded them all, as if by fog But for these medd'ling kids and this their dog.

KING: The villain stands confessed. Now let us go. For much remains to us to be discussed. And suitable reward must needs be found For these, our young detectives and their hound.

EXEUNT OMNES. Copyright 1993 Michael S. Schiffer

I think that’s a small part of the reason he’s so loved -- he’s awful, yes, but that’s underneath the shell of a sad, brave, deeply romantic old man. Where many of the monsters of ASOIAF seem beyond any sort of redemption, Jorah seems like if he would just indulge in some self-examination, he could be a genuinely great person.

At least, that’s probably why I like him. He’s a grand Byronic hero who keeps threatening to stumble into an actual hero, only to tragically fail to own up to any of his own faults. Even on the page, he has a lot of charm, although of course Glen gives the role such soul that it elevates the character’s attraction even further. (and, of course, makes it frustrating that the show tends to sidestep what a terrible human being he is underneath that)

Theory: People enjoy Jorah because Iain Glen is super charming (and the show hasn't dwelt on the whole selling people into slavery nearly as much as the show iirc).

The books don’t dwell on it at all. It’s still hideous, and his utter refusal to accept responsibility (including a laughable attempt to reframe it as a problem of Ned’s excessive honor) is what has always really repulsed me about Jorah. 

He thinks slavery is OK. Why does Dany keep him around after she decides otherwise?

Let’s be honest: Show Jon would think Book Jon was really stupid and arrogant, too.

Sure! Awesome socks are awesome socks.

to all hetero boys out there would you ever compliment a girl’s socks if you had no romantic/sexual interest in her asking for a friend

Heard some important information on Twitter today, and thought I’d post it here for anyone who may not have heard it. This is actually a thing, devised by human rights organisation called Karma Nirvana.

Reblog to save a life?

My review of Listen, and why it's better than Blink.