Hot Take: Satan’s actual aim in “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” was to trick Johnny into committing the mortal sin of pride. Since he succeeded, the Devil gets his soul anyway. But enjoy your functionally useless golden fiddle for the next few decades, I guess.
Even hotter take: Johnny seems like the kind of cool and fun person who was going to go to hell for enjoying life to the fullest anyway, so all the Devil really achieved was a truly impressive self-own in the form of an immortal folk song commemorating Johnny absolutely destroying him in a fiddle duel, despite the fact that the Devil cheated by summoning an entire band of demons to back him up.
Omg omg I got a bulbasaur at build a bear and I was kinda embarrassed about buying it for myself and stuff but there weren’t any other kids in the store or shoppers for that matter and the girl helping me said she was glad to here it was for me as she collects some plushies and has her own bulbasaur.
Well she was almost done stuffing him and then I noticed that you can put scents in your bear and fucking love cotton candy and the girl basically car salesmen style sold me on the scent pad and asked where I wanted the scent to go
And I didn’t know where it should go but she herself being quite the plushie enthusiast was like “you’re gonna hug him a lot right? may I reccomend right here” and pointed to his forehead
So I was like “awe cute yeah that sounds good” (my bulbasaur is totally stuffed mind you and I even had her make him extra firm )
and then the girl rolls up her sleeves and was like “alright bulbasaur! Here we go! I apologize in advance but this is gonna look very inappropriate!”
And she fisted my super full bulbasaur all the way to her elbow saying sorry to him and to me over and over again. It took her several tries to get the scent pad in place since my bulbasaur was so stuffed and she looked like she was straining and saying “I don’t know why they didn’t think about this design more, so many parents are gonna complain about this one day, I know it”
So all in all this was the best build a bear experience I’ve had since I was a little kid and I love my fat, cotton candy scented, anally inclined bulbasaur to pieces
Every time I see this post I cant stop fucking laughing
I need to get to the nearest build-a-bear workshop.
chris control your goddamn face you have just gone through an extremely painful super-serum transformation you did not just have the diddly doo orgasm
…actually, at this point, Steve’s just now experiencing the sudden absence of both recent extreme pain and long-term low level pain. He’s probably so high on endorphins that the expression is completely accurate.
Also, he was asthmatic. This is the first time in twenty years that his lungs work. Ever had an oxygen high?
Might not be an O-face folks, but homeboys high as a kite.
here’s a definitive and totally subjective rating of davids
donatello: 3/10 honestly pretty embarrassing, but worth a mention. just your run-of-the-mill, oh-you-haven’t-heard-we’re-copying-classical-greek-sculpture-now david. stiff, awkward, and pretty dopey looking twunk. has the same expression of someone being told dona-fucking-tello sculpted this. can’t even hold his slingshot bc it’s too gay. don’t worry there’s a redemption arc on its way.
donatello pt 2: 9/10 fucking superb you funky little gay man. total glow up. a complete deviation from the norm by a well-known deviant. takes contrapposto to sultry new heights. look at this lad’s little hat and boots he’s not a nude he’s just naked. some people say goliath’s head is modeled off of donatello himself literally he was horny enough he said “step on me” in full fucking bronze. goliath’s helmet has little gay greek reliefs on it, not even remotely subtle. look at the feather going up his thigh and tell me u didn’t cross your legs when you did. commissioned by the medici for their palace, which makes it even cooler by association.
verocchio: 8/10 ily baby a perfectly fine lad, looking at him makes me smile. his little dress is so cute with its stylized arabic psuedo-script border, and the floral pasties? adorable. something about goliath’s head feels a little disjointed, but you know what? fuck him. he’s not important. david’s the real star here in his little cheerleader get up. what really makes me biased towards this one is that the model was supposedly verocchio’s star student, the young leonardo da vinci. and look how fucking radiant he is! love it.
michelangelo: 7/10 technically this thing’s great. look at the fucking veins on the hand that’s absolutely mental. but all in all it lacks the overtly homosexual intrigue of some other davids and, frankly, i expected more from well-documented gay disaster michelangelo. obviously a classic but also makes it prone to being too over-saturated. i do love his yaoi hands though.
bernini: 11/10 the man the myth the fucking legend! bernini always delivers and this david’s no expception. look at that movement! the drama! the whole thing screams baroque in the best possible way with the dynamism, the momentary narrative, that cute lil scrunched up face. only complaint is that it isn’t as good as some of bernini’s other work but i’m willing to let it go for the detailing on the fucking rope goddamn gian lorenzo you absolute madman. we stan a sculpting legend.
“i do love his yaoi hands though.” said about Michelangelo’s David gives off so much chaotic radioactive energy and also, personally, gave me whiplash
Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue.
I have been waiting for this post all my life.
They are indeed purple, But one thing you’ve missed: The concept of “purple” Didn’t always exist.
Some cultures lack names For a color, you see. Hence good old Homer And his “wine-dark sea.”
A usage so quaint, A phrasing so old, For verses of romance Is sheer fucking gold.
So roses are red. Violets once were called blue. I’m hugely pedantic But what else is new?
My friend you’re not wrong
About Homer’s wine-ey sea!
Colours are a matter
Of cultural contingency;
Words are in flux
And meanings they drift
But the word purple
You’ve given short shrift.
The concept of purple,
My friends, is old
And refers to a pigment
once precious as gold.
By crushing up molluscs
From the wine-dark sea
You make a dye:
Imperial decree
Meant that in Rome,
to wear purpura
was a privilege reserved
For only the emperor!
The word ‘purple’,
for clothes so fancy,
Entered English
By the ninth century
.
Why then are voilets
Not purple in song?
The dye from this mollusc,
known for so long
Is almost magenta;
More red than blue.
The concept of purple
is old, and yet new.
The dye is red,
So this might be true:
Roses are purple
And violets are blue
.
While this song makes me merry, Tyrian purple dyes many a hue From magenta to berry And a true purple too.
But fun as it is to watch this poetic race The answer is staring you right in the face: Roses are red and violets are blue Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple.
Hirple – To limp or walk awkwardly
Cirple – An old Scots word for the hindquarters of a horse
wupacing 