i wish people would stop seeing animated movies at the result of big name studios and see them rather as the result of the hard work of hundreds of artists who dedicated their time and effort into creating something for us to enjoy
yesterday my first table at work was 4 complete shitholes who yelled at me twice before i even took their food order and almost made me cry. before they ate, they all bowed their heads to pray.
so on the top of their receipt i wrote “hebrews 13:2″ and they went WILD. they LOVED IT. they tipped me over 20% for my “education fund”.
hebrews 13:2 is “do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it”, and i really hope they got home and looked it up and realized that i am, in fact, a petty fucking bitch
I moved out of my house on really bad terms. My mom didn’t want me to meet my girl that I met on Tumblr who just happened to live in of all places Nebraska. I asked her once in February and told me if I went to meet her, I’d be kicked out of the house.
I ain’t have no money to live on my own so I stayed and didn’t fly to Nebraska. I saved for months, got my 401k contributions high, increased and improved my credit and asked my mom one last time in September. She said the same thing. Two days later, in the middle of the night, I snuck out, my homegirl drove me to the airport and with all my clothes, I flew from NYC to Omaha.
The two of us finally met after a year and I got an apartment and a job within 2 weeks. My entire family was distraught and pissed. They finally realized that I’m out here as long as my girl is in college and left it. They’re still hurt but they know they can’t change it.
Then in February, I got fired from my job. For 4 full months, I’ve been looking for a job, paying rent with my credit card, 401k money and my tax return money. I literally was (and still am) in the negative with all my accounts. I haven’t bought food for myself in almost a full month. I was sleeping at my girl’s mom’s house for almost weeks straight cause I ain’t have food in my place. If I didn’t start a job this week, I’d have to move back to NY into my mom and grandparents’ house.
Last weekend my mom actually came to Omaha to see my first apartment. She met my girlfriend, her family and I took her around the city of Omaha a little bit. When she first opened my fridge, there was old butter, jelly, an almost empty jar of minced garlic and some raspberry lemonade. She told me she almost cried seeing I had no food. When she left I had a full fridge of food. I started a job Monday. I just sent her a picture, one of the first meals I’ve been able to cook from my own fridge since May.
I just wanted to thank her for helping me when she really ain’t need to.
Today in Big Mistakes, I accidentally trained my pigeons to swarm my face when I am trying to feed them
So typically in the mornings they wait by their food and water dishes until I give them food and water. I will grab one to sit on my shoulder while I get the food and water ready, and the one on my shoulder normally gets to sip the water while I count out the food. I didn’t really think this through.
My pigeons caught on that my shoulders mean water before everyone else and head scritches because a couple have started landing on my shoulders when I greet them in the morning. I should have stopped and thought, pigeons are pretty smart birds. The pigeons still in the loft can see me when I am grabbing food, they can see me with one or two of the pigeons, and they can see that the one or two that go with me get water before everyone else. I should have thought about what that might lead to. Hindsight is 20/20
Anyway this morning every single one of my pigeons tried to land on my shoulders
You know, whenever I go shopping……the person at the counter puts my groceries into bags. For a nobody like me. their hands, they’re working so hard. And it’s just for me. Those hands are stuffing my food and snacks into bags. When I see that…I feel my chest tightening. It makes me want to cry.
Happiness has a limit for me. A limit where I can’t take any more. This limit comes to me much quicker than other people. It comes even quicker than a tiny ant.
The mailman brings up a heavy package just because I ask him to. Someone gave me an umbrella, once on a rainy day. But then…All this happiness at once, I can’t stand it. It’s much easier just to pay for it. That has to be why money exists.
A Bride for Rip Van Winkle 2016 ‘リップヴァンウィンクルの花嫁’ Directed by Shunji Iwai
sometimes i feel like throwing my hands up in the air / sometimes i feel like saying “lord I just don’t care”/ but you’ve got the love i need to see me through / when food is gone you are my daily meal / when friends are gone i know my saviour’s love is real
“Alright. That’s enough for today, Mr. Decoder Ring. It’s almost one in the morning. Shit, you want Taco Hut or something?“
“Nah, I didn’t figure anything out today.”
“…Okay but I didn’t eat today and I’m pretty sure you didn’t either. Taco Hut is still open. Or maybe McDurland’s?“
"I didn’t solve anything today.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
Jones must’ve gone crazy. “I didn’t do anything today.”
“You’ve been hunched over those files all day. I’ve seen you. Were you sleeping with your eyes open?”
“What? No! No, I was trying, I swear!“ he pushed back from the desk, his palms outwards as he lifted his hands up towards his shoulders. “I just… didn’t get anywhere with any of this stuff. I swear.”
"It was a joke, Pines. Relax.” Jones held up a tentative hand, waiting for him to resettle before speaking. “But seriously. Are you not hungry? Because I’m starving.”
He shook his head, turning his attention back down to the photocopies he’d spread out in a semblance of order that made sense to him and him alone, most likely. “I didn’t get anywhere today.”
“Pines. That doesn’t mean you can’t be hungry.”
Stan felt his hackles rise. “Of course I can be hungry. That doesn’t mean anything. I didn’t work hard enough.”
“…Pines, are you telling me that because you didn’t make progress today, you therefore haven’t earned food? Because that’s not how this works.“
Stanley jerked his head in agitation, refusing to catch Jones’s eye.
"Pines. I’m not… you’re not with Rico.”
“Yeah, well… you’re not with an upstanding member of society.”
“Even prisoners get meals, Pines.” The little motel room was hushed.
“Not always.” Stanley shifted in the creaky chair.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Doesn’t matter. Go ahead and get your Taco Hut, or whatever. I’ll have a coffee, I guess, if you’re up for that. Or some water, if not.” He shrugged, turning back towards the stack of papers strewn across the shitty little motel table.
“You think I’m gonna withhold water? Shit, Pines, did you drink anything today?”
Stanley refused to answer for a moment. “ ‘Course. Tap water’s free.”
“Damnit, Pines…” Stanley heard a sigh and the sound of skin brushing against skin. A hand obscured the agent’s face as Stanley turned back around to scowl. “Just… Get some sleep, okay? I mean it.”
“Y'know what? Better yet, get in the car. We’re going to Taco Hut.”
“You can just leave me here, it’s fine. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
There was nowhere to go. They’d impounded his car and they were miles away from anywhere remotely decent.
“You know I can’t do that.“
Stanley huffed and stood, shoving the documents back into their Manila envelopes. He spread them across his lap and across the dashboard, his elbow resting against the window as he propped his chin on his fist. He squinted at the intermittent glare from the passing street lamps, choosing to remain perfectly silent in the passenger’s seat until they reached the drive-thru window.
“Alright, Pines. Whaddyou want?” He shrugged. “Pines.”
Stanley shifted with a small sigh, hunching forward to catch the red haze of light that spilled over the scattered pages from the taillights of the car in front of them.
“You know what? Fine. You’re getting the same order as me. I hope you like extra lettuce.”
Jones woke the next morning to find Stanley in the same spot, still hunched over the scuffed little endtable.
”Pines. Seriously? Did you sleep at all?“
"I got a few winks.” He dismissed the question outright. No. This would not fly.
“No. Get your ass in bed, Pines. You can’t function without sleep. You mind needs to be fresh. Take a break. You can’t stay sharp like that.”
Stanley snorted. “Sharp. Right.” He shrugged off the hand that grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, watch it, will ya? I’m almost onto something!”
“So help me, if you don’t get your ass in that bed—”
With a growl, Stan shoved a greasy-bottomed sack into the motel mini fridge. It looked untouched. Damnit, Pines. That was a fight Jones would have to pick after the man woke up again.
When Stanley finally managed to decode a line of the cipher that had been staring him in the face, he celebrated by tearing into the damp sack he’d shoved in the mini fridge. He let his eyes drop and his shoulders slump as he hastily unwrapped the cold taco. The tortilla was hard and rough and scraped the roof of his mouth as he shoved it behind his teeth, while the bottom of the shell had gotten waterlogged from the fridge and yielded against his tongue. The bland sauce tasted like heaven. He chewed, hastily, with the hopes that he’d finish his quick bite and shove the rest back into the fridge before anyone could see him.
It was just his luck that that damned federal agent had caught him in the act.
“Pines. What’re you doing?”
Fuck. Might as well get a sip of that coke in there. He glared as he stabbed the straw through the plastic lid, taking a quick gulp before shoving it all back in the icebox.
“What the fuck, Pines? That’s old. I bought that two days ago.” The cop leaned over to peer inside. “Is that the chicken sandwich from yesterday? You didn’t eat that either?”
Stanley snorted. “I may be dumb, but I’m not that stupid. You’re not gonna catch me that easy. I know a test when I see one.“
"Pines, food is a basic human right.”
“‘Pines, Food is a basic human right.’” he mimicked, his lip curled upwards into a sneer. “I’m a debt to society. My rights got revoked a while back.” he pushed the door shut with a dull whump. “You of all people should already know that.”
Finally after another semester of hell not seeing the pack summer is here and things can go back to normal, hopefully. I’ve missed the pack more than I could ever imagine. Scott is my brother, and not going to the same college has been difficult. We all agreed to meet at Scott’s house when everyone gets home for the summer. I twitch my hands along the steering wheel as I drive to Scott’s. I haven’t seen him or anyone else in weeks. I park my jeep in his driveway next to his car and run inside as fast as I can. Scott must have heard me from inside, because he comes tearing through the front door before I can. We stop in our tracks and just look at each other before breaking out in smiles and tackling each other in as manly a hug as we can manage.
merry christmas, ya filthy animals ;)
and happy saturday (or hanukkah!!!!) to those of u who do not celebrate christmas ♡
Let’s get one thing straight: You didn’t hate the
sweater. Maybe it was a little hard on the eyes, but bless your
grandmother’s heart, she made that thing with love.
Every year – every single year without fail – your
grandmother knits you a sweater to wear for you and your mom’s annual Christmas
cards. You were never really bothered by it – you thought it was sweet of her
to make them for you – but that was when you knew no one would ever really see
you wearing it apart from the people your mom sent the cards to.
Until this year, of course.
“Mom!” you whined loudly, “I can’t wear this in public!”
“And why not?” she asked, making sure she had her wallet and
keys. You waited for her to look at you before you deadpanned and motioned
toward your body.
“Look at it,” you stated, drawing her attention to the
cartoon cat on your chest.