So Magnus and Alec had a bit of a problem where Magnus was in Valentine’s body, and Alec didn’t believe him? And there was a lot of, sort of betrayal on that? And it didn’t really went anywhere? Is that something that’s gonna come back?
boy i hate when villains kill their own guys, word’s gonna get around and you won’t get any henchmen applications in the future. give me bad guys who revel in how evil they are together, raze a village to the ground, but will set aside day on their calendar because it’s Morgog’s (in Decaptations) bday and they wanna see her utterly destroy all 239 candles with her cool flame breath
dunkirk is the kind of film you sit on after you see it. at first you’re like, yeah that was a good film. it was a different kind of war movie. then you leave the theater and you start thinking about it, all your favorite moments, the ones that made you bite your nails off. you think about the message and what christopher nolan is really trying to get across with the way he directed it. and then you realize that it’s actually sort of spectacular. because you were in the film. you weren’t just hearing a bunch of dialogue, knowing what someone was going to do next. you were basically living it. between the music and the acting, you were feeling what they were feeling. long story short, if you were unsure of dunkirk at first: sit on it. i guarantee you’ll see the beauty in it.
i mean im an adult, i guess, if that’s the word for it. a lot of things i used to care about i just say “Fuck It” and let go.
but it’s incredible to me that there’s still so many passages to my soul. how just a group of teenagers looking at me and laughing makes my teeth hurt. how someone’s comment sends me back to high school bullying. how i am constantly asking myself are they even really my friends?
i don’t know. i never throw myself birthday parties because my worst nightmare would be that nobody shows. i just wonder if there’s ever a time that your last insecurities let go. i’ve only ever found that kind of freedom at the honey lips of tequila. i want to be brave at two pm on a sunday. i want to actually not care what they say. i want to be the kind of witch that laughs through the burning.
yeah, i have a plan. well, it’s technically more of a scheme, i guess. and you guys have to swear not to tell…anyone with common sense, really.
i’m gonna make a Trashcan Turkey.
what is a Trashcan Turkey, you ask? let me enlighten you to possibly the most brilliant, terrible, wonderful bird-cooking method i have not yet tried. i’ve talked clint and johnny storm into helping me with this, it’s gonna be a disaster.
(this is not to be confused with the Dumpster Bird incident, where sam and clint both wound up in the same dumpster, and then hulk thew the whole thing at an evil giant crab, not knowing they were inside. but don’t worry, they were fine. eventually.)
anyway, a Trashcan Turkey is exactly what it sounds like: a turkey cooked inside a trash can. you take a long, sturdy wooden stake and drive it into the ground (or better yet, take some rebar and weld a crossbeam so the turkey can’t slide down) and then cover the stake and the surrounding ground in tin foil. if you wanna catch the turkey drippings, you can put a bundt cake pan on the ground with the stake in the center. then you mount the turkey on the stake, all seasoned however you like.
then you take a new–and that part’s key–NEW metal trash can and put it top-down over the turkey.
and then you light a bunch of charcoal on fire.
you heap the burning charcoal around the base of the trash can and put more burning charcoal on top. i’d recommend a shovel for that job, if you don’t have a fireproof metal hand or a really flammable inflammable dude to just grab them directly. thanks, johnny.
then you keep it all burning for awhile. i’ve been told that the formula is 1 hour for a 10 pound turkey, plus ten minutes per additional pound.
when the time’s up, you remove the coals and the trash can. that part can be a little dangerous, because everything’s very hot, but again: fireproof friends/hands.
you should have, at that point, a perfectly cooked Trashcan Turkey.
i’m sure why you can see why this is appealing to me. there’s fire, food, potential for disaster–it’s all the most important parts of life combined in one family holiday event.
Lance, laying on the floor of the common room: is there even a point in doing anything? maybe this is all done crazy nightmare and nothing matters. Maybe tomorrow we’ll all wake up and not exist. maybe there isn’t a tomorrow. maybe life is just some unfunny joke. What’s the point of doing anything if everything is nothing and nothing doesn’t exist? What’s the point of doing anything if there’s no guarantee of the construct of tomorrow, which ever comes?