manhattan miss

2

Taliyah Amaya, a young woman of color from the South Bronx is MISSING. So many young girls and women have been going missing in the South Bronx like Maylin Reynoso. I know I have like no followers but please reblog especially if you live in NYC/tri state area!!!!! If you have any information call the number provided (929) 256 0471 or call the police.

UPDATE: SHE IS SAFE AND SOUND!! thank you all for sharing far and wide! 💚💚💚
8

THE MUPPET FEATURE FILMS

The Muppet Movie (1979)
The Great Muppet Caper (1981)
The Muppets Take Manhattan
(1984)
The Muppet Christmas Carol
(1992)
Muppet Treasure Island
(1996)
Muppets From Space
(1999)
The Muppets
(2011)
Muppets Most Wanted 
(2014)

4

Here’s some silly Muppet doodles that I just realized I never put up on Tumblr! I was rewatching the first three Muppet movies and From Space with @kmorrisoncartoons last December and I still like how some of these came out, so here you go!

dex the king of accidental romance

  • he buys nursey a nice beanie bc he remembered him saying 234325 years ago that his ears were cold and when nursey’s like “bABE U ROMANTIC” dex just shrugs and is like “you said you were cold? dont make it weird nurse”
  • does this all the time to the point of nursey thinking he’s making up excuses for why things are romantic to be a little shit but no. dex’s life is just like this.
    • “oh hey i had some leftovers from dinner last night so i thought i’d heat them up for us also i found this random candle and it smelled nice so i put it on the table and shit yeah sorry the lights aren’t really working so it’s kinda dim in here right now also my radio broke and won’t stop playing frank sinatra i know it’s annoying but we’ll suffer through yeah?”
    • nursey: are u shitting me rn
  • sends nursey a picture whenever anything reminds him of him and most of the time it’s funny shit or memes but sometimes it’s cute stuff like dogs or a charming little bookstore or a sunset
  • always eats the flavor of m&ms/skittles/gummy bears/etc that nursey doesn’t like and remembers his favorite flavors to the point that for christmas once he was like “nursey really likes blue skittles. i wonder if you can get just blue skittles?” and spent a few hours looking up bulk candy sites and ordered nursey like a pound of blue skittles and nursey cried and his tongue was blue for like a solid 3 months
  • is always acting like him doing cute shit isn’t a big deal bc he genuinely doesn’t think it is; his family was very loving and he doesn’t think it’s a huge thing to be thoughtful to the ones you love but nursey’s attention starved ass cries daily about his romantic boyfriend
    • ok but he also doesn’t see himself being “romantic” bc nursey is a poet? and is always writing stuff for dex and waxing poetic about his freckles and his skin and what have you but nursey literally has a complex about how he doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough in the relationship bc dex does so much for him and is so thoughtful meanwhile dex is just “aw nursey wrote me another poem he’s so creative and thoughtful and wonderful i love him wow” as he looks up environmentally friendly pens on amazon bc nursey complained once that the pens he writes with use too much packaging and it’s wasteful
    • also dex doesn’t have a lot of money to buy gifts or pay for dates so he tries his best to notice and pay attention and be thoughtful and present which is great bc it’s something nursey really needs and appreciates
  • now im just thinking about cute things dex has definitely done for nursey but okay once nursey mentioned missing manhattan and all the cool buildings and the skyline and the next term dex literally took a woodworking class so he could make a mini wooden replica of manhattan and give it to nursey
  • he just pays attention when nursey speaks like that thing about relationships “turning towards” or whatever? he always stops what he’s doing when nursey needs his attention and just listens and he’s so intense about it nursey was like “whoaaa” at first but dex is just like “being ignored sucks” and nursey cries
    • nursey cries often bc nursey loves his bf so much how did he get this lucky???? he has no clue
  • i just!! dex came from a family where like, his dad would keep an extra tire in his car in case a friend broke down and needed help, his mom once stayed up all night to give a neighbor stitches because she couldn’t afford the er– his family taught him that you’re thoughtful and you pay attention when it comes to the ones you love and that’s how you show you care and dex is just like that, he cares and it shows when he sweated in the haus kitchen for hours trying to fix bitty’s oven and it shows when he makes nursey a gorgeous journal with his initials burned in for his birthday this boi is so kind and giving with his time and energy i love him so much

Peggy Lee (May 26, 1920 — January 21, 2002) as seen in LIFE magazine, 1948. Photo by Allan Grant

She was billed throughout most of her career as Miss Peggy Lee (and, in fact, she insisted on it). In the golden age of big bands she was a singer of renown with Benny Goodman’s orchestra and she went on to become a top nightclub singer, a prolific recording artist, a successful songwriter and an actress skillful enough to be nominated for an Oscar.

Duke Ellington called her “the Queen.” She was a weaver of moods and colors, her misty voice conveying impeccable rhythmic subtlety and smoldering sexuality. In a world of belters, she was a minimalist who eliminated any hint of the extraneous in both her voice and gestures, and she could stir audiences with an understated phrase more than most singers could by shouting and stomping.

Stephen Holden, a movie and cabaret critic for The New York Times, described her image as “Billie Holiday meets Mae West.”

Miss Lee made more than 700 recordings and more than 60 albums. Her own favorite album, “The Man I Love,” was recorded in 1957 with arrangements by Nelson Riddle and an orchestra conducted by Frank Sinatra. Sinatra was so intimately involved with the album that he obtained some menthol to make Miss Lee’s eyes look properly misty for the cover photograph.

She is credited with having a hand in writing more than 200 songs, in most cases as a lyricist. Among the hits she wrote were “I Don’t Know Enough About You,” “It’s a Good Day,” and “Mañana (Is Soon Enough for Me).” Her name is indelibly linked with a number of songs, including “Golden Earrings,” “Fever,” “Lover,” “Big Spender,” “You’re My Thrill,” “I Got It Bad and That Ain’t Good,” “Them There Eyes” and the haunting Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller tune that became her signature in later years, “Is That All There Is?”

“She makes her listeners feel cherished,” Whitney Balliett wrote of her in The New Yorker. “Her singing lulls you, and it is easy to forget how daring it is. Many singers confuse shouting with emotion. Peggy Lee sends her feelings down the quiet center of her notes.”

“She is a subtle and brilliant showman,” he added. “She can slink, arch an eyebrow, pull out a hip and rest a hand on it, half smile, wave wandlike arms, bump, tilt her head and slouch – all to dazzling, precise effect.”

Miss Lee was named Norma Deloris Egstrom at her birth on May 27, 1920, in Jamestown, N.D. She was the sixth of seven children of Marvin and Selma Egstrom. Her father was a railroad station agent who drank too much. His job kept the family moving from town to town in lonely parts of North Dakota. Her mother died when she was 4 and her father remarried. Five-year-old Norma was brutally abused by her stepmother, who would hit her over the head with an iron skillet, beat her with a razor strap and drag her around by her hair. By the age of 7, she was keeping house, baking, cooking, cleaning and milking cows.

There was never any doubt in her mind that she would become a singer. ’‘I had always sung – I sang before I could talk,“ she reminisced in her 1989 autobiography, ’'Miss Peggy Lee” (Donald I. Fine). She was 14 when she made her professional debut at a local radio station in Jamestown and was still a teenager when a program director at a radio station in Fargo gave her a job and her stage name. The job paid $1.50 for each noonday show. To make ends meet, she worked a 4 p.m. to 4 a.m. shift in a bakery, slicing and wrapping bread for 35 cents an hour.

A friend who had gone to California suggested she join her. She sold the watch her father had given her at her high school graduation for $30, bought a train ticket and arrived in Hollywood with $18. She got a brief singing engagement in a supper club but mostly worked as a waitress before returning to North Dakota. She found work singing for a radio station in Fargo, then as a singer in Minneapolis with Will Osborne’s band.

Miss Lee was discovered in Chicago in 1941 by Benny Goodman, who was looking for a replacement for his vocalist, Helen Forrest, who was leaving to join Artie Shaw’s band. He heard her sing “These Foolish Things” at the Ambassador West Hotel and called the next day, offering her the job. She had a cold the first night she appeared, the critics were unkind, and she wanted to quit. Goodman refused to let her go and she stayed on, at $75 a week.

Later that year, the band played the New Yorker Hotel in Manhattan, and Miss Lee recalled in her autobiography how awed she had been to see Franchot Tone dancing by with Joan Crawford, Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne chatting at their table with Katharine Cornell, and Gary Cooper joking with Mayor Fiorello La Guardia.

It was Miss Lee’s sulky rendition of “Why Don’t You Do Right?” with the Goodman band in 1942 that made her a star. She sang the Joe McCoy song in a voice that demonstrated she could sing of hard times as well as anybody; her version became one of the the biggest selling records in the country:

You had plenty money nineteen twen'y-two
You let other women make a fool of you
Why don’t you do right
Like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money, too.

Peggy Lee’s tour with the Goodman band lasted less than two years but the collaboration made her one of the most famous female vocalists of the time and put her on the road to fame. [x]

archiveofourown.org
Manhattan Murder Mystery - fromaLongLineofTVDetectives - Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

“Manhattan Murder Mystery” is now complete! Thank you to everyone who stuck this out with me. I had great fun writing and sharing with you!

And to celebrate, here are a couple of photos of paintings Phryne’s dear friend Kate made when she finally made it to Australia in 1955.

One winter shortly before the Six Weeks War my tomcat, Petronius the Arbiter, and I lived in an old farmhouse in Connecticut. I doubt if it is there any longer, as it was near the edge of the blast area of the Manhattan near miss, and those old frame buildings burn like tissue paper. Even if it is still standing it would not be a desirable rental because of the fall-out, but we liked it then, Pete and I. The lack of plumbing made the rent low and what had been the dining room had a good north light for my drafting board.
The drawback was that the place had eleven doors to the outside.
Twelve, if you counted Pete’s door. I always tried to arrange a door of his own for Pete-in this case a board fitted into a window in an unused bedroom and in which I had cut a cat strainer just wide enough for Pete’s whiskers. I have spent too much of my life opening doors for cats. I once calculated that, since the dawn of civilization, nine hundred and seventy-eight man-centuries have been used up that way. I could show you figures.
Pete usually used his own door except when he could bully me into opening a people door for him, which he preferred. But he would not use his door when there was snow on the ground. While still a kitten, all fluff and buzzes, Pete had worked out a simple philosophy. I was in charge of quarters, rations, and weather; he was in charge of everything else. But he held me especially responsible for weather. Connecticut winters are good only for Christmas cards; regularly that winter Pete would check his own door, refuse to go out it because of that unpleasant white stuff beyond it (he was no fool), then badger me to open a people door.
He had a fixed conviction that at least one of them must lead into summer weather. Each time this meant that I had to go around with him to each of eleven doors, held it open while he satisfied himself that it was winter out that way, too, then go on to the next door, while his criticisms of my mismanagement grew more bitter with each disappointment.
Then he would stay indoors until hydraulic pressure utterly forced him outside. When he returned the ice in his pads would sound like little clogs on the wooden floor and he would glare at me and refuse to purr until he had chewed it all out… whereupon he would forgive me until the next time.
But he never gave up his search for the Door into Summer.


-Robert A Heinlein, Door Into Summer