I’m sure you’ve all seen the famous picture of Grape-kun falling in love with the Hululu cutout for the Kemono Friends zoo collab and how he’s constantly staring at her.
What I didnt know was…
-7 years ago Grape-kun was dumped by Midori -Midori got with a younger penguin and they have a baby penguin -They all live in the same enclosure so Grape-kun has to see his ex hanging out with a younger guy daily -And he’s 20 years old now, and that’s about how long the typical humboldt penguin lifespan is…
I’ve been meaning to say thank you so much for the nickname. Oh yeah, glad you like it. It was super easy to come up with. Father Joseph, Father Broseph, Father Bro, Father Brah. Bam! I mean attendance has shot through the roof since you did that.
ok but side note can we not use words like “threw herself on him” or god forbid slut for dot like ??? she got a little boozed up and got carried away; magnus stopped her and she respected that. you all rly do the most when it comes to woc lmao.
Everything Comedienne Quinta Brunson Does Goes Viral
Quinta Brunson never imagined she’d become a real-life Spider-Man.
No, she doesn’t crawl walls and she doesn’t have enhanced strength or speed, but her love for Spider-Man as a child set the groundwork for her passion for creating good work to help others visions come to life. “I’ve always been into helping others,” she tells ESSENCE. “I never set out to be an inspiration, I just try to make good work. I [just] want to drink water and not hurt people.”
Watch any of Brunson’s Buzzfeed videos (we recommend Seeing Your Ex In Public) and you’ll see one of the brand’s youngest content creators (she’s only 27, y’all) doing her thing in a powerful way.
Brunson isn’t your typical writer or video producer. She’s more than that. Her focus is to blur the lines between digital and TV. Her viral Instagram series “The Girl Who’s Never Been on a Nice Date” put her on the map, giving her the opportunity to become the development partner at Buzzfeed and even create three shows, and even sell one entitled "Broke,” to YouTube Red.
She’s also a unicorn—she’s a Temple University drop out who appears on a Forbes 30 under 30 list, but she remains humble. “I’ve removed the thought that I’ve made it because it keeps changing,” she says. “Thinking I’ve made it would stunt my growth.
Although the Philadelphia-native has accomplished a lot, Brunson has yet to work with Chris Rock, who tops her list of comedians she’s dying to work with. “Chris Rock is so amazing to me,” she says. “ He does an excellent job at storytelling—he’s done what they say a Black man couldn’t do.”
Brunson’s incredible command of the craft is apparent, but she’s also happy and willing to offer words of advice for future Instagram stars looking to create a viral video.
“It needs to be shocking, and plain ol’ fun to watch,” she says. “Relatability is huge. Remember, people want to see themselves in something.”
green light: the haunting revelation of being free after the break up. but you don’t know what to do with that freedom. it’s frightening and beautiful and inspiring and it makes you lonely and excited all at once. you want to dance with friends and scream out the car window but you hit every red light just at the mere thought of ever moving on.
sober: depression and anxiety is wasting away your youth. you live for the weekend to come. you live for any kind of buzz. you sleep until the bright orange afternoon creeps into your window. but the night is always there for you. the parties, the confetti and the blue lights that rain down, is all worth it in the moment. until you realize you’re all alone.
homemade dynamite: all your decisions and all your actions are self destructive. every bottle of liquor you finish and every house you destroy, you know it’s a form of self hate. but it’s how you cope through all the bullshit.
the louvre: a evening drive through the city with your lover. the day is warm and the tar on the road is hot. the window is down and the air feels liberating. you want to love them forever. but it’s a sunday and your stomach sinks and nothing lasts forever. and now your at a house party months later and everyone is high and the music is booming and you see your ex across the room and you feel like you know no one there and you want to hide away so you leave and no one notices anyways.
liability: you blame the break up on all your insecurities. you blame it all on the way you’d call them every night crying. you think that maybe your sadness is contagious. you should’ve known to sterilize yourself from the start.
hard feelings/loveless: you pack up everything that belonged to them and put it into a box. you practice not having their name on your tongue. you attempt to forget the taste of them. you consider holding on and staying friends, but that anger overrules and you throw that box off the highway bridge. you’re over the aching and now you moved onto the hard feelings. you want to blame them for everything. summer nights are too long. mornings are empty without their texts of “good morning” and you taste this endless nostalgia for the rest of your life. but you don’t let them see this side of you. you let them see the anger. you let them think you’re indestructible.
sober II: growing up with drama stuffed inside of you like all the drugs and alcohol you consume, is tiring. you go through the motions and you nod to their questions and laugh at their jokes. but you know that this misery and that this young love is timeless. so you continue to go through the expected motions.
writer in the dark: that hollow ache in your chest when you realize that the break up is permanent, that this feeling of loss is forever. that nervous ache as you stalk their snapchat and Instagram and any other social media outlet, trying to see if they found someone else. that obsessive need to know if they still miss you, if they still love you and need you. that sickening feeling that makes you numb as you send them text after text but they never reply.
supercut: all the memories are blurry footage winding through your head. the time you ran down the hill, drunk. the time you said “I love you.” the time you looked at them on the roof of the car while you thought “I’m gonna be with you forever..” all the memories are fast forwarding and rewinding and pausing in your head and it is perfect and it is never going to happen again.
liability (reprise): you warned them from the very start. but did you ever listen when they warned you?
perfect places: everyone has a perfect place that is their getaway. but the reason for getting away isn’t perfect. it’s ugly and damaging and it’s cold nights like this that make you realize that nothing will ever be perfect. only for the moment will it seem like a person or a place can be your sanctuary. but the feeling never goes away. remember that.
Waking up to the sound of you showering
& you playing our favorite songs
My heart would get so warm
It was so cold those foggy mornings
I would curl into a ball & pretend to be
just to feel you wake me up & you would be the first thing I would want to see
I would hear you tell me “I know you’re up dork”
I look back & smile
I’m sorry I never told you that & I’m also sorry you’ll never know
I still replay those foggy mornings
I know those mornings might not even cross your mind anymore, but they cross mine
Those are the moments where I felt fine
& not feel like my whole world crumbles everyday because you’re not here
It turns out that I was mistaken and that it was Otabek who came up with most of the ‘YURI ON DARKNESS/GALAXY/TIGER’ show names (okay, Yurio definitely came up with YURI ON TIGER), and I am once again reminded that the dude who kidnapped Yuri and told him he had beautiful eyes is every bit as extra as the tiny punk.
you’re the kind of person who says sorry when they don’t mean sorry.
you just want me to stop having feelings
so you don’t have to think about what you did wrong. you don’t even fucking listen to me when i speak so i’m done speaking.
i hate you so much. there’s no way hatred isn’t this feeling. my blood is boiling. you’re still choosing her over me, even as friends.
you don’t deserve my friendship.
you never did.
i write a poem about me leaving you and you see it so you text me.
i don’t answer because i fucking hate you but i feel guilty about it the entire day.
iiii. you text me again. you say “hey.”
you tell me you saw my snapchat story and you hope i’m having fun. you ask me
how school’s going. you’re so good at pretending you care. you’re so good at it, i believe you.
iv. i always give in. i always text you back eventually. and you’re so fucking nice to me,
i forget about all of the things you did wrong.
all of the lies. the times
you were threading your hands in her hair when i was breaking down.
vi. why can’t you make this easy? why can’t you fucking leave?