God: “So, yeah. Make a small country and also make it entirely flat. No mountains, only hills. A whole bunch in the south of it by the way.
Angel: “Sure, that doesn’t sound too bad?”
God: “Oh, and make it under the sea level. So they have a to build dikes to make sure the whole country doesn’t get flooded.
Angel: “What the…”
God: “Dikes everywhere”
God: “And…what rhymes with dikes? Oh yes, bikes! Bikes everywhere!”
Angel: “You mean that they…’’
God: “Have a lot of bikes? Yes! Let them always cycle. Make everyone who isn’t cycling afraid of the cyclists. Especially the tourists.
Angel: “This starts to sound a lot more dangerous”
God: “What else did I have in mind? Oh yeah, make the weather there unpredictable as hell. Only one thing is sure, there will always be lot of rain”
Angel: “I start to feel sorry for those people…How do you want to call it?”
God: “Mmm, The Netherlands. But we call the people Dutch”
Angel: “Why…”
God: “And everyone mixes them up with their neighbourland Germany”
Angel: “Okay..anything else?’’
God: “Weed”
Angel: “That’s it. I quit”
When your best friend tells you all she had for breakfast Was a packet of Splenda and a Diet Coke, And she tells you that she’ll stop after she loses five more pounds, Do not believe her. Tell her mother. It does not matter how angry your friend gets. The pain of that will always be preferable to the pain Of seeing your best friend in four years Weighing as much as she does now Half-dead in the hospital.
When your father sneaks into your bed in the dead of the night, And he tells you that this is how fathers love their daughters, Do not believe him. Tell your English teacher. She will have read millions of stories of girls like you. There is a one in six chance that she will be a girl like you. There is a five in six chance that she will know what to say to you. There is a six in six chance that she will help you.
When your veins whisper to you in the moonlight And say that there are so many nightmares inside you That could be free If you would just open your arms, Do not believe them. Tell your school’s guidance counselor, No matter how scared you are Because whispers are liars, And opening your arms will only open the passage For more nightmares to climb in.
And when the therapists say that you are better, Totally better, And you don’t need to worry about the sadness again, Do not believe them. Always be cautious, because sadness has a way Of sneaking up on you When you’re not looking. Be careful. Be careful.
Feeding your kids is not a favor. Buying them clothing and school supplies is not a favor. Encouraging their learning throughout life and making them feel loved are not favors. These are LITERALLY OBLIGATORY FOR EVERY PARENT. Parents—do NOT use these “kind” actions as proof of how good you are. Do not make your kids feel guilty for receiving things from you. You are achieving the bare minimum of parenting. Goddamn.
It’s easier to think of someone as “lazy” than to face the fact that school costs too much, that better jobs are inaccessible, that childcare is unaffordable, that people are forced to work so hard for so little that there’s no way they could have enough energy to attempt schooling or finding better work, and that what we give to people who can’t work is insufficient to the point of being shameful. I could say that calling people lazy is, in itself, lazy, but it’s not just an intellectual shortcut. It’s a defense mechanism.
wash has effectively been dumbassified
{ RvB: Home }
a lyric comic about being found, then finding yourself __________________________________________
Wow…2 and a half weeks, 61 frames all concepted, storyboarded, sketched, lined, colored, rendered, and edited in over 80+ hours of work. A huge thank you to everyone who’s been supporting me and helping me reach this final product, and everyone in the cursed discord for encouraging me! 🌻🌻🌻
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Some of the best writing advice I ever got was if you’re stuck on a scene or a line, the problem is actually about 10 lines back and that’s saved me from writer’s block so many times.
I’m only accepting criticism in the form of Barenaked Ladies merchandise.
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When you pick up a sword for the first time you will be slow and awkward. This is frustrating, but refuse the temptation to try and become a “faster” fencer. Chasing after speed is like trying to catch smoke. If you try and pursue speed, all you will accomplish is haste. Haste is the enemy of 1st class fencing.
Speed is a lie the untrained mind tells itself when it sees an action it cannot follow. The truth is a combination of timing, control, and fluidity. Fluid motion, even done slowly, will always arrive before a hasty strike. Control will allow you to move without wasteful motion that will slow you down. Timing will eliminate the need to move fast almost entirely. There is no need to get somewhere fast so long as you get there at the right time.
Hello and welcome to my main blog, which is mostly my odd, or what I deem funny experiences. I have a writing blog where I post things for no real reason(includes prompts)
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