do-the-green-thing

Water Fast FAQ

What is a water fast? A water fast is where you abstain from eating food and consume only water for a specific amount of time.

Is there a particular water that I should drink? No. Any water will do, as long as it is just water with noting added.

How long should I go for my first fast? I suggest 3 days for your first fast to get an idea as to what you will be facing.

What was your longest fast? 30 days.

Why do you water fast? Health reasons and weight loss.

What are the benefits of water fasting? Water fasting is a great way to jump start your new healthy life style, because generally speaking it reboots your system and rids all of the poor things you have been putting into your body. People use water fasting to cleanse their system for things such as becoming vegetarian or vegan or simply making a drastic change in dietary plans. I’ve also encountered tons of people who have used water fasting to help/cure eye sight issues, eczema, other skin issues such as acne, bowel issues, stomach issues, and more. There have even been some cases and personal accounts of people water fasting and then having their cancer cells lowered or disappear. However the most common use of water fasting is for weight loss.

What is the difference between restricting/eating disorder and fasting? Generally speaking restricting is about control and stems from a mental illness or other psychological problems. Restricting is not about being healthy and strong and doesn’t have an end date. Where an eating disorder is a mental illness water fasting is about health and strength and is not a long term plan but instead a journey with an intended end date.

How do I start a fast? You want to start a fast by easing into it. Doing so prepares your body for the decrease in food which is to come. Thus I suggest 2-3 days of eating just fruits and veggies and then transitioning into another   2-3 day period where you juice. After doing so you may move into your water fast.

How do I end a fast? You want to end a fast the same way you started it, by EASING out of it. Doing so prepares your body for the reintroduction of food and prevents your body from assuming that food will disappear again. Thus I suggest 2-3 days of just consuming juice/juicing. After these 2-3 days, . you should move on to another 2-3 days of consuming just fruits and veggies. After this period of time you can add back in lean proteins and other non fruit and veggie items.

How do I juice? You have to buy a juicer to make your own juice. Sense these can be expensive you can also buy fresh juice instead.

What juice can I buy if I don’t have a juicer? I generally juice my own fruits and veggies, so I don’t remember the exact brands I bought. So I would go to a farmers market, juice bar, organic market, or whole foods store and look for organic fruit juices there.

When should I drink the juice? I honestly just drank when i would naturally consume food. SO maybe 1-2 cups of juice for breakfast. A cup for a snack. 1-2 cups for lunch. A cup for another snack. 1-2 cups for dinner. And maybe another cup for another snack.

When should I consume the veggies? Once again, I consumed it when I would normally eat. So breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner, snack.

Is there any particular fruit or veggie i should consume while easing in or out of fasting? No anything will really do but leafy greens and things like watermelon (Which has a high water content) are especially good for you.

How much water should i drink drink on a fast? I suggest anywhere between 1-2 gallons a day. You should be drinking constantly the whole day. And peeing frequently. It doesn’t matter when your drinking the water just that it’s constant throughout the day. Sense there about 8 water bottles in a gallon, and I aim for 2 gallons (8 x 2= 16 water bottles)…I either carry around a water bottle and try to fill it/consume 16 bottles before the day ends. Or I carry around a gallon water bottle and try to drink 2 of those before the day ends.

Does it matter if the water is cold? I have been told by experienced people that drinking cold water is better because your body supposedly works harder to convert it to the temperature of your body, but I’m not sure.

How does water fasting work? Basically after about 3 days your body goes into something called ketosis where your body starts to metabolize/consume fat. This is why people use water fasting to lose weight.

Do you gain weight back after a water fast? Yes. Everyone will gain some weight back and it differs for everyone because water weight/water retention is different for everyone.When you start your water fast generally you will see an initial and quick 2-5 pound weight loss. This is because when you eat food you consume sodium (salt) which holds on to any water you consume. When you water fast you are not consuming food, which means no salt, SO there is no sodium in your body to hold on to the water you are drinking. Thus you lose what is called initial water weight.

HOWEVER

When you end your fast and start consuming food again you consume salt and will thus start retaining water again, which will cause generally a few pounds of water weight.

When I finish a water fast how long before I can start another? I have read and been told to wait at least 4 weeks, but I have broken that rule numerous time. Just saying.

Before and after pictures? Are they you? Were they from fasting? Yes they are me. Yes they were from doing a collection of 2 long fasts. You can find them by going to  http://smashingxteacups.tumblr.com/tagged/beforeandafter

Have you gained any weight back? Yes about 20lbs due to two traumatic deaths in my family which resulted in poor eating. 

Do you plan on doing more fasts in the future? Yes. One I’m actually starting tomorrow. 

Can you give a detailed example of what you ate after a water fast.

Should I exercise durring a water fast? No.

Sure but keep in mind this is only an example/ I experiment a lot with food and recipes and it’s impossible for me to remember what I ate because I constantly switch it up and am pulling from different online/book recipes.

Breakfast: Organic oatmeal with cinnamon and cut up bananas on top with a cup of almond milk. 

Snack: Apple and berries

Lunch: Salad with lemon juice and almonds, bits of lean chicken, carrots, cherry tomatoes and water.

Snack: fruit smoothie or maybe a carrots and dip.

Dinner: Stir fry in a kale wrap

Desert: Strawberries and light whip creme. 

What are some foods that are good for you? Nuts, almond milk, coconut, coconut water, coconut milk, fruits, veggies, leafy greens. The closer to the ground the better for your body. 

Do you smell on a water fast? No Can you brush your teeth on a water fast? Some people say no I do because it doesn’t effect weight. I know that a lot of people want to know exactly what i ate and juiced but i just cant tell you that because i didn’t keep track of it when i was fasting and i wing meals and experiment so much with it that i lose track. If you have any other questions feel free to ask and ill add it to the FAQ. Thanks!

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It was a big night for LGBTQ awareness at this year’s ARIA Awards

Troye Sivan dedicated his first ARIA win for Song Of The Year to “every LGBTQ kid in Australia”. 

Sivan, renowned for his efforts to represent LGBTQ relationships in his music videos, used the stage to instil hope in the country’s LGBTQ youth.


Sia, who took home Best Female Artist of the Year, nominated Australian Marriage Equality Campaign Ambassador Angie Greene to accept the award on her behalf. 

“This award is for every single non-hetero and gender diverse person who can currently not marry the person that they love in this country,” Greene said.

Greene also urged Australia to take a step in the right direction, “You have the opportunity now to not just do a great thing but to do the right thing”.


After Greene accepted the award, the campaign’s founder, Joshua Sasse and fiancé Kylie Minogue took to the stage, also wearing Say I Do Down Under shirts.

“This is more than just a movement, this is people’s lives and we want to say to every single member of the LGBT community: ‘You are not alone. You have a voice’,” the British actor told the crowd.

buttonfanatic  asked:

Sick lance who is struggling through during a mission and is zoning in and out of focus but will not stop because they need to fight and by the end of it he has tunnel vision, a throbbing headache and is delirious then he collapses. Only then does the team even realize he was sick in the first place (bonus points if you add in the team teasing him after fighting about how blank his expression is but lance's delirious mind can't comprehend that is just joking so he's apologizing profusely)

I literally had to write this immediately. Forgive me, everyone else who is waiting on fics I promised them or has submitted prompts that are still in my inbox, but this is the best prompt

anyway hope this whole fic does’t suck as bad as this ending does lmao

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Garden of Simple

For the OQ Prompt Party: #74 Enchanted Forest, s3, OQ secret candlelight dinner.


Robin misses the forest – especially on nights like these. Clear, cool nights where the moon is a heavy, glowing orb up above, and the stars scatter pinpricks in the darkness of the heavens. It’s bright enough one could stroll the forest by moonlight alone – something he’d loved doing, before. He’d enjoyed the solitude, the peace, the feeling of being a part of the world just like any other beast that walks or crawls.

But there are dangers now – brought close to home by their returned travelers. Winged monkeys that swoop and snatch, and midnight wandering is ill-advised. They’ve retreated indoors, into the safety of the Queen’s castle. A laughable statement once – who’d have ever imagined finding refuge there?

And yet, they have. He and his motley crew of ruffians have taken over a series of rooms on a lower floor, strung it with hammocks and bed pallets (they’re not much for creature comforts, indoors or no), and begun to take regular meals in a great hall next to the very royals they once would have plundered.

It’s funny how life works out, isn’t it?

And it has its benefits certainly – last week had been one of near-constant drizzle mixed with bursts of downpour, and bitter winds all the while. He can’t say he’d missed their encampment, then – not when he and his son were nestled in warm bedclothes by a roaring fire, Roland sipping heated broth while Robin drank from a flask of whiskey he’d been gifted by Prince David. Warm, full bellies, and warm, dry clothes are a good sight better than huddling beneath canvas tents and trying to keep any sort of flame over hissing, sputtering embers in the forest.

And then there’s her. The Queen herself.

Robin supposes he shouldn’t consider her a perk of castle life – she’s not a thing, after all, not a pretty bauble, but a person. And what a person she is, full of life, and fire, with an acid tongue, a quick wit he quite enjoys matching with barbs of his own. And she’s lovely, absolutely lovely, to look at.

He’s been caught staring more than once by John, or Tuck, or Much, his gaze riveted to the shape of her frown as she takes bites of venison as though they’re as boring as whatever tale Princess Snow is regaling her with at the royal table. How someone can be so surly and so pretty at the same time, he’ll never fathom, but he’s drawn to her like moth to flame again and again.

And then there are the moments that she smiles – with sharp malice after she lands a particularly sound insult, or (his favorite) the soft curves of lip she saves for Roland and Roland only. To have said she has a soft spot for children was an understatement – in Robin’s experience, they seem to be the only thing to bring her any joy.

So yes, he does consider her a perk of castle living. Her lively wit, and her secret smiles, and the dark coffee color of her eyes. Privately, he does.

And yet, on nights like these – the clear, cool ones – life inside these castle walls simply isn’t enough. He feels confined here, trapped. Feels the urge to prowl, if only because he’s not allowed to simply roam.

He’s not foolish enough to leave the grounds on his own, but Roland is tucked dreaming away beneath his covers, and Robin is restless. So he heads for the nearest thing to a forest he can find within the fortified walls – the Queen’s garden.

Her prized apple tree lives in an upper courtyard, a place of prominence, but it’s not the only vine she tends. There’s another grove on the castle’s eastern side, a sizeable patch of land gated and walled off, said walls now covered entirely by creeping ivy that had grown thick and lush during the years of the curse. There are rosebushes there, and flowering trees, tall shrubbery and an old weeping willow that Roland loves to play hide and seek in.

It’s not a forest, but it’ll do. It still smells of green things, and there are frogs that croak merrily in its depths, and birds that nest happily in its trees and sing their songs during the daytime. If he faces the right direction, keeps the high spires of the castle at his back, he can pretend he’s not walled in by stone and circumstance.

The old gate creaks as he enters, a low whine that’s echoed by one of those friendly frogs, and Robin smiles as he lets it swing shut behind him and takes a deep breath in. The chilly night air fills his lungs, bringing with it the scent of night-blooming flowers that he knows full well are out of season right now, and yet, somehow they flourish here. (It is the Queen’s garden, after all, and it bends ever to her will – he’s fairly certain the hush that falls over him as that gate clicks closed is not simply the sound-dampening effects of ivy.)

Something in his middle settles, and that part of him that needs to feel the softness of earth beneath his boots bears down just a little into each blessedly springy step as he leaves the footpath and trods over well-watered grass. He doesn’t have a destination in mind, per se, circles the outer edge, and runs his fingers over the night-chilled growth of ivy, feels the pillowy roughness of a patch of stone covered over in thick moss, and every bit of it soothes that restless heart of his.

He visits her roses, the red ones almost black under the light of the moon, and the white ones nearly glowing.

And then he takes a trip to that old willow and its drooping, leafy curtains. There’s a bench beneath it, hidden in close near the trunk, and he’s a mind to sit for a spell and let the foliage engulf him. To pretend he’s high up in some old canopy in Sherwood, free as a bird.

Or maybe just to peek out the parted swath and admire the garden as a whole, the lights of the castle looming above it, yes, but not quite managing to touch.

It’s not until he’s ducked beneath that very canopy of leaves that he becomes aware his idea wasn’t a novel one.

He doesn’t see her dress (it’s black) or the moonlit pale wash of her skin (that bench is well ensconced in shadow) – it’s the fire he sees first. A sudden, orange bloom of it clutched in her palm that makes him yelp rather embarrassingly and stagger backward.

She smirks – none of the ire he might expect from a Queen interrupted, simply amusement at her own ability to call up a fright in him. To catch him unawares.

Robin presses a hand to his hammering heart, and forces a smile in return (it doesn’t take much effort, summoning a smile for Regina), speaking over the gentle nighttime chorus of nature to offer her, “Apologies, milady. I thought I was alone.”

“It’s Your Majesty,” she corrects, as always, but without a bit of heat, and then, “And I noticed.”

A flick of her wrist and the flame in her palm is gone – or not gone, but it flickers into pieces, little wafts of flame that wrap slowly with thick glass until they’re each cupped in a little jar. Robin watches, rapt, as silvery chains grow link by link from their rims, up, up into the darkness. After a moment the little jars seem to cease hovering, settling into their own weight and swinging lightly from their chains.

He’s never been too terribly trusting of magic, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fascinated by her little displays.

“Is that safe?” he wonders, his heart kicking up again as he catches sight of her shifting to make room beside her in the bench.

They’re not friends, Robin and the Queen, and the clear invitation seems out of character.

Out of character, but not unwelcome, and Robin certainly won’t refuse. He approaches slowly, but casually, feeling a bit like he’s about to spook a momentarily friendly bear.

She’s squinting slightly up at their makeshift lanterns, and from this close and in the glowing lamplight, he can see the rise and fall of her shoulder as she shrugs.

“They’re well-contained and it’s not a terribly warm flame,” she concludes, as he sinks to the stone beside her. “Not much wind tonight. We should be fine.”

“Mm,” he hums in acknowledgement, leaning back against the trunk of the old tree and gazing upward at the flickering lights, if only because he’s afraid looking too long at her (what he’d truly like to do). They’re getting along quite nicely at the moment, and he wouldn’t want to disturb whatever mood she’s in by staring at the wonder of her profile by candlelight. Not just yet, at least.

For a minute, they just sit in silence. Just them and the frogs, and the crickets, and an owl hooting somewhere not too far off. Robin thinks perhaps they’ll sit there like that all evening (and perhaps they should, he really wouldn’t mind it), but it seems a shame to waste such a pleasant mood on silence, so he breaks it, finally.

“So,” he begins, rolling his gaze toward her and nearly losing his train of thought in the flickering line of brow, nose, lips he shouldn’t want to kiss (but does), and chin. He clears his throat lightly and continues, “I know why I went wandering in a dark garden on my own tonight – I needed a bit of fresh air. What’s your reason for sitting here, all alone in the dark, Your Majesty?”

Those kissable lips curve (she’s still looking up, up, at her own little flames), and she sinks back against the trunk beside him, a flick of her wrist illuminating a little table he’d not noticed sitting on her far side. It’s not very large, set only for one, with a plate piled high with fruits and meat, and roasted vegetables. A goblet of wine, and a small plate of sweets.

“I was having a late dinner, away from Snow White’s incessant need to party plan,” she tells him, dryly.

And, “Ah, yes,” he smiles. “She has been on about that lately, hasn’t she?”

Regina Mms, and her eyes roll heavenward. The princess has been insisting on a ball to honor the change of seasons, something festive to keep morale up around the castle. It doesn’t surprise him overly much that Regina isn’t eager to help throw the little soiree.

Still, that’s not what has him most distracted at the moment. No, that’s the fact that she was, “Eating in the dark?”

It’s a question somewhat unspoken – why on earth would she be taking her meal in near blackness, even if she was dining alone.

One perfectly shaped brow rises up at that, and she tells him archly, “I wasn’t,” smirking to add, “I had the candle lit, until someone came wandering through the garden gate.”

Robin has the decency to look guilty for a moment, offering up an, “Ah,” and an, “I’m sorry, then. I’ve disturbed your meal. I could go, if you’d prefer.”

Idiot. He shouldn’t have offered – she’ll surely take the out and send him packing.

But the night is full of surprises, it seems, because Regina only shakes her head and tells him, “It’s alright. It seems I’m rather poor company for myself tonight; I wouldn’t mind if you… stayed.”

Ah. Well, that explains her willingness to be sociable, then.

“Well, then it’s good I haven’t had my fill of the night air yet,” is all he says in reply, hunkering down a little more comfortably into the bark against his back.

She hums a little, and adds, “And besides, this is far too much food for one person.”

He tilts his head to spy her plate again, and it’s not, really, not at all. But then, she eats like a bird most days. Not that he’s noticed. (He’s most certainly noticed.)

Before he can blink, the candle winks out, the table with it, a dark swirl and the sharp scent of impending rain, the hairs on the backs of his arms stand on end for a moment, and then the table is in front of them, candle and all, a second goblet of wine beside the first.

“Help me finish it?” she requests, and, well, who is Robin of Locksley to refuse the delicacies offered by a Queen?

(FFnet/Ao3)

ALL THE WAY ACROSS TOWN: Contributor’s Roundtable

The very first decision I made about this week (before, in fact, Hendrik had even given me the go ahead) was that if I was going to do it, I wasn’t going to do it alone. Part of that was self-preservation: Green Day are a massive band, with a three-decade-long career and insurmountable amounts of energy. It’s a lot for one person to tackle. Even between the five of us, we’ve barely managed to scratch the surface.

But more than that, there was this nagging feeling that’s only grown more powerful over the course of this week, that it would really just be a shame if only one person wrote about Green Day. They belong to everyone. They’re there for the people who need them, when they need them, for whatever they need them for. Yes, they mean the world to me. The thing is, they probably mean the world to you, too.

So I put out the call on Twitter and my blog (restricting it somewhat to my circle of acquaintances by doing so, unfortunately, but this did make me more comfortable with asking in the full knowledge that I wouldn’t be able to pay any contributors for their work), and I got lucky: most of the people I was secretly hoping would offer to write about Green Day did just that. And, oh man, did they write. I can’t express how proud I am to have been able to give those pieces a platform, and to have myself and my writing associated with them and their writers. I was so impressed with the generosity and honesty of everyone’s writing that I wanted to hear more, and so I suggested the idea of a roundtable, where we could all come together to talk about our mutual topic: Green Day. This is the result.

All of us, this week, have touched on notions of belonging and acceptance in our pieces. There’s been an undertone, throughout, of the notion of Green Day as a safe space of some sort - whether it be for kids to start to figure themselves or the whole punk rock business out, or in the crowd at gigs, or as not-male or not-straight music fans. Do any of you have any more (or more specific) thoughts about this? Is this a feature of Green Day’s music, or the band themselves, or something else entirely? (Despite my piece on punk, I know it’s not as simple as that, as I’ve been in more than one punk space and met more than a few punks who made me feel unsafe - there’s a difference between ideal and reality, always.) What is it that makes a band feel “safe”?

KJ:  I think I thought of Green Day as a supportive space for all sorts of people who were different, and therefore avoided owning up to liking them because I didn’t want to be thought of as different? Thankfully, I’ve gotten over that.

Jessie:  For me, it’s a combination of factors. Some of it has to do with the punk thing. Green Day weren’t the first punk band I heard–that honor goes to another East Bay band, Operation Ivy–but sometimes I call Green Day my first punk band because it was around the time I first heard them that I started thinking of punk as an identity. I have definitely felt unsafe in punk spaces/around certain punks, and I guess Green Day sort of represented some utopian ideal of punk as this super welcoming club for nerds, freaks, and outcasts. I’m not sure why that is–maybe because of the scene they came out of, or maybe, because I said in my piece on “She,” it felt like they understood what it was like to be freaks and outcasts. Which leads into the second reason they felt safe to me, and that was entirely about their music. I was being bullied pretty much constantly during the time when I first heard them, and it just felt like they understood that. Like they’d been there. I mean, Dookie had a song (“Having A Blast”) about getting revenge on the people who bullied you. (More on that song later.) The third reason they felt safe to me is a very personal one, and it may sound weird, but–they felt safe to me because I didn’t have a crush on any of the band members. From the age of 12 to around 17 (or maybe even older, but that would lead into some topics that are beyond the scope of this roundtable), I usually ended up getting a crush on at least one member of every band I liked. I mean sexual fantasy-type crushes. And I was sort of terrified of my burgeoning sexuality (for many reasons). But with Green Day, I thought of them more like cool older brothers than people I wanted to get with, and that made them feel safer to me than a lot of other bands.

Jacqui: Jessie, I’ve never even thought about it the way you put at the end there, but now that you have I completely agree. I’ve also never had a crush on any of them, and it does make a difference. There’s something a lot safer about wanting to swap guacamole recipes with Mike, for instance, than ever having been properly attracted to him would have been. 

Alice:  It was much the same for me, though I think Green Day was my first punk band (or, possibly, The Offspring). But Green Day also was sort of a gateway drug, in terms of pop punk, and I think that in so many ways the pop punk scene of the early-to-mid-2000s was my safe space. It’s like we’ve said, that punk in reality isn’t always the safe space it is supposed to be - and of course, it is different for everyone and we are ignorant, of certain things, when we’re young. But when I was growing up, in Alabama, there weren’t many spaces for me. The pop-punk boom/resurgence of the 2000s was a saving grace, I think. Those bands - Green Day, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, etc. - and the people I met through them, mostly online, became a huge part of the ways in which I reckoned with myself and my identity. Between “Well, maybe I’m the faggot America / I’m not a part of the redneck agenda” and Bert McCracken (of The Used) wearing a shirt that said “Gay is OK”, I felt included and comforted by these group of weird punk misfit dudes.

This is perhaps a corollary to the above: as far as I know, everyone who’s written for this week is, in some way or another, not-straight. One of my favourite things ever written about Green Day, Cristy Road’s coming out memoir Spit and Passion, is also, obviously, written by a not-straight woman. I know that when I think of Green Day, I think of a band that is Not A Straight Band, in smaller ways and larger ones (I’m thinking of Billie Joe, of course, and of certain lyrics, and safe spaces, again, and of the secret-community like collection of “Coming Clean” tattoos I’ve seen over the years). What do you think?

Jessie:  I don’t know why so many not-straight people are into Green Day, but it certainly does seem to be true. I didn’t know that Billie Joe identified as bi until way after I got into the band, but when I found out I was like “Hell yeah! Yet another reason to love them!” Dookie came out the year I realized I was bi (though it would be another four years or so before I actual felt wholly comfortable with that label), and though there were no explicitly queer songs on it, it goes back to what I mentioned above–so many Green Day songs seem to speak to that sense of being an outcast, being lonely, being bullied, and one of the things that made me an outcast and that I was bullied about was my sexual orientation and gender expression. Another theory as to why so many not-straight folks love Green Day: they are not an uber-macho band. Billie Joe has often been seen wearing makeup, nail polish, even dresses; I’ve seen Tre in eyeliner, too, and he’s just sort of goofy-looking (I mean that as a compliment!). Mike is probably the most ‘masculine’-looking of the band members, but even he is not some meathead. There are just so many rock and punk bands that are so so into the whole machismo, look-at-me-I’m-a-man thing, and Green Day are not one of them and it’s great.

Cat: So, haha, funny story, Billie Joe is sort of the reason I admitted to myself that I liked girls. I mean, God knows every single person in my life knew I wasn’t straight, I was bullied for it relentlessly from the ages of eight to eighteen, but I was really terrified of this idea of “not being normal”. Small town, small school, white picket fences and 2.5 kids - I had this really clear idea that there was a Right way to live your life, which was “how everyone else was living it”, and that there was a Wrong way. And then I read that Advocate interview - which I was so happy to find again in your post about Coming Clean, Alice! - and Billie Joe says there, I think everybody is born bisexual, I think everybody fantasizes about the same sex. Which I disagree with as a point of view these days - but at the time, it was exactly what I needed to hear, to understand that my thoughts and feelings about girls weren’t just a random fluke that I needed to suppress. And then later I was able to move into a more mature standpoint, i.e., “oh, it doesn’t actually matter if this is normal or not, it’s okay anyway”, and also, “oh, I’m actually way more into girls than guys.” But I really, really needed that Advocate interview to get me to that place.

Alice: Thanks, Cat! Yeah, as I mentioned in my piece, I didn’t read The Advocate interview until much, much later. But I read it - when I was seventeen - exactly when I needed to read it. I don’t think that I ever connected Green Day, and the ways in which their music always meant so much to me,  to my being gay until that moment. It was a moment of satisfaction, reassurance, almost. Like oh this is maybe why they always felt like home to me.

KJ:  I have a very vivid memory of frantically late-night Wikipedia-ing a “list of bisexual celebrities” and feeling utterly relieved when I saw Billie Joe’s name. Like, if this guy who I looked up to could be bi, so maybe could I? Not for the first or fifteenth time, I thought about starting a band.

[ continued under the cut ]

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Edict

Pushing the boundaries of what enemy colors typically do.  Black Green usually either kills things or makes tokens, sometimes both, or even reanimates to hand.

Making a card that’s almost always relevant in Limited & decent in constructed is hard. Making it uncommon is harder.  I’m really pleased with the result. Special thanks to @abelzumi for double checking my wording & insuring the colors can do this.

anonymous asked:

How do I figure out what I need to get done and prioritize it?

1). think of everything you need to do in a day, write it down

2). make sure you write enjoyable things!

4). think of the consequences of not completing each thing

5). highlight things that would be okay if you didn’t do with green, things that would be inconveniencing if you didn’t do them with yellow, and things that would be dangerous with red

6). start with the red things, top to bottom, then the yellow, then the green

I think at this point “Old Folks” is about 25 and over.

Checking out at the store, the young cashier suggested to the older woman, that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.


The woman apologized and explained, “We didn’t have this green thing back in my earlier days.” The young clerk responded, “That’s our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations.”
She was right – our generation didn’t have the green thing in its day.


Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were truly recycled. But we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.


Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags, that we reused for numerous things, most memorable besides household garbage bags, was the use of brown paper bags as book covers for our schoolbooks.


This was to ensure that public property, (the books provided for our use by the school) was not defaced by our scribbling’s. Then we were able to personalize our books on the brown paper bags. But too bad we didn’t do the green thing back then.


We walked up stairs, because we didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was
right. We didn’t have the green thing in our day.


Back then, we washed the baby’s diapers because we didn’t have the throwaway kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy-gobbling machine burning up 220 volts – wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that young lady is right; we didn’t have the
green thing back in our day.


Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house – not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana.


In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn’t have electric machines to do everything for us.


When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.
Back then, we didn’t fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn’t need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that
operate on electricity. But she’s right; we didn’t have the green thing back then.
We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn’t have the green thing back then.


Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn’t need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 23,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest burger joint.


But isn’t it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn’t have the green thing back then?


Please reblog this so another selfish old person who needs a lesson in conservation from a smart-ass young person can see it. .

toxiic-space  asked:

Do those green bracelet things have a purpose or is it some accessory :O ?

!! yeah!! when he uses his quirk it affects his whole body but inside his suit are little sensors that guide it to his hands so he can use it on his opponents 

6

Ankh-Morpork “Chocolate” Bonbons, from Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett!

It was a tossup between this or rancid yak butter tea (also from this book), and between you and me rancid yak butter is hard to come by in disgusting heathen America. I was also craving chocolate-covered nuts, which are either incredibly waxy fake chocolate with dessicated nuts, or hideously expensive and dispensed only by mystical chocolate gurus atop Mt. Godiva. 

Anyway, let the Guild of Confectioners describe their thinly-veiled distaste:

Ankh-Morpork people, said the guild, were hearty, no-nonsense folk who did not want chocolate that was stuffed with cocoa liquor and were certainly not like effete la-di-dah foreigners who wanted cream in everything. In fact, they actually preferred chocolate made mostly from milk, sugar, suet, hooves, lips, miscellaneous squeezings, rat droppings, plaster, flies, tallow, bits of tree, hair, lint, spiders, and powdered cocoa husks. This meant that, according to the food standards of the great chocolate centers in Borogravia and Quirm, Ankh-Morpork chocolate was formally classed as “cheese” and only escaped, through being the wrong color, being defined as “tile grout.” 

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if gwen hadn’t died, there are two ways peter’s life could go.

the first is he follows gwen to england, just like he promised. he’d put new york behind him, maybe bring aunt may with him, so he can start anew. it’s different, but bottom line is, no matter how unalike londoners and new yorkers are, villains and criminals exist in every corner of the world. peter might find himself watching international news too intently on the tv (telly, they call it a telly), or hoping new vigilantes or heroes have taken his place, protecting the streets of new york, but then he looks at the life he’s made for himself here, looks at the two most important people in his life, and he thinks, this is why i moved on.

the second, more likely choice is, peter stays. he loves gwen. he does, but he also loves harry, and by staying, he might just be able to save them both. gwen won’t be in danger anymore, won’t ever be used as leverage or taken hostage. she’ll follow her own path, become the outstanding woman her father always wanted her to be.

and harry. well. that’s a bit more difficult, but peter won’t rest until he knows harry’s free from the osborn curse. he isn’t very sure what to do about the whole green goblin thing, and he’s even less sure of how he’s going to fight harry when all he can think is this is my friend. aunt may took pictures of us cuddling on my bed when we were seven years old. he just hopes it’ll end once he finds a way to cure harry. and he will. because harry might hate him, but he still loves harry, and maybe, hopefully that’ll be enough.