wooden mallet

my favorite thing that Clark Kent does is try to figure out how a Normal Human Man would respond to getting injured

like if someone shoots at him he can say “oh he missed” and if someone tries to punch him he can kind of roll with it and barely avoid getting hit so they don’t smash their hand while going “oh ow oof what a punch ouch”

but then here comes the Joker with a comically large wooden mallet and now Clark has to figure out how Normal Human Man Clark Kent could conceivably survive this without making it obvious that he is not actually a Normal Human Man. just “oh goddammit i’ve never even seen someone get hit with one of these before, the joker’s probably seen all kinds of people get hit, he knows what this is supposed to look like but i have no goddamn idea i am so fucked”

superman may have the power of flight and super strength but clark kent has the power of improv

A reminder that the Animaniacs actual origin story is

that their creator was under pressure to make a bad cartoon funny and pulled an all-nighter alone

and that he in fact lost his actual sanity creating them…

and what he created was just them smashing the protagonist with wooden mallets.

anonymous asked:

I'm trying to prove that classical music isn't boring. Can you give me facts that show how hardcore classical music, musicians, and composers are (like the 1812 overture canons or the riot of spring)?

I’d love to have a more in-depth discussion of this sometime, but here’s a few facts off the top of my head

  • Mozart used to stay out all night partying and getting laid and then he’d sleep until noon and his long-suffering jerk of a father had to drag him out of bed to practice
  • He also wrote the overture for the opera Don Giovanni the morning it premiered, while extremely hungover
  • The interval between a perfect 4th and a perfect 5th (a tritone) was called “the devil’s interval”, and for centuries composers avoided it at all costs because it was believed to cause madness, violence, and sexual desire
  • Franz Liszt played so intensely that he physically destroyed pianos and they had to invent a stronger one (which is the model still used today)
  • Another thing about Liszt: women used to throw their underwear at him while he was performing. He was the first one-man boy band.
  • At the premiere of The Rite of Spring the audience was so alarmed by the dissonance and non-traditional style that they left their seats to storm out or beat each other up in the aisles
  • Many symphonies use non-traditional percussion like canons or massive wooden mallets, modern classical composers like John Cage like to stick things in piano strings
  • Shostakovich was the most hardcore composer (though I’m biased because he’s my fave). He barely escaped being exiled or killed by Stalin while continuing to write music containing forbidden folk melodies or thunderous movements depicting the dictator himself.
  • Paganini had no teeth and apparently looked like the devil

If folks have other facts I’d love to hear them!

5 Times The U.S. Almost Went To War

It’s impossible to guess what would have happened if the U.S. had gone to war at critical points in history, and thankfully we’ll never know. Here are five diplomatic nightmares that didn’t end in conflict.

1. When Japanese Prime Minister Takeo Fukuda launched a hammer at the United States: In 1978, the world looked on in horror as Japan hurled a 5-pound wooden mallet at Washington, D.C. from a military base in Okinawa. Fortunately for the world, however, somewhere along its 6,000-mile journey across the Pacific Ocean, the hammer hit a seagull in midair and fell into the water, foiling the attack and soothing diplomatic tensions between the two countries.

2. When Ethiopian ants carried a sleeping FDR back to their anthill in 1937: Both houses of congress demanded the U.S. launch an airstrike against Ethiopia in retaliation for the overnight theft of a sleeping President Roosevelt by a rogue colony of African fire ants. Though foreign leaders pleaded with the U.S. military to stand down, the airstrike was only called off once FDR woke up miles from his bed with his legs stuck down a massive ant hill, and used his remaining limbs to called the White House to confirm his safety.

3. The nightmare that was Eisenhower sending a blowup doll to meet Fidel Castro in his place: In 1959, Castro’s visit to the U.S. got off to an inauspicious start when the Cuban envoy was greeted not by the head of state, but by a naked, blond blowup doll with a surprised-looking mouth. Offended, Castro retaliated by aiming several nuclear missiles at Southern Florida, but he ultimately called it off when the United States sent then-Vice President Richard Nixon in a sexy maid costume as an apology.

4. The Barack Obama-Palm Reader Crisis: The nation was shocked when in 2011, Barack Obama issued a televised statement that he had visited Lady Virtue, a palm reader who had foreseen him going to war. The psychic had informed the president that his palm’s war line was longer than any she had ever seen, and that he should issue an attack on whatever country he wanted to. However, in the end war was avoided, as another palm reader—Lady Omega—told the president that his palm’s war line was actually a normal size, and that he had a great chance of failure if he declared war on another country.

5. When Jimmy Carter used the red telephone for a radio sweepstakes: In August of 1980, President Jimmy Carter was determined to be the 11th caller in 106.5 KISS-FM’s Annual Summer Sweepstakes, but the only phone he had at his disposal was the Washington-Moscow hotline. Even after informing Kosygin that he had just heard Eric Clapton on the radio and was not interested in nuclear war, Carter was unable to win weekend passes to Disneyland for four.

Never Ending Ride Joker x SideKick!Reader

Warnings: Abusive behavior (that’s what you get for dating the Joker), Swearing, Hitting, Unhealthy relationship (not surprising is it?)

Summary: Reader is in a relationship with Joker, like in Harley’s place, and there has been awhile since she (can actually be a male!reader or gender neutral as well since there is no mentions of sex) has seen him after a gig that went wrong. Will he come back for revenge or to company his love with good intentions? 

The joker also goes with the (h/c) of choice cause I really didn’t want to make this to be based on one specific joker. It could be Jerome, or Suicide Squad Jared Leto’s joker or from the animated series or movies. Your choice. I hope you enjoy this and tell me if you’d like more fics with harley kind of reader (I already have one request of reader having Harley based history and story in general of being Joker’s therapist in Arkham so there’s that) ENJOY 

I had never been feeling this bored in my whole life. Just sitting in my apartment, staring at the walls and the ceiling, switching positions, walking from a furniture to the other. Laying on my bed, sitting on my couch and sometimes lying on the floor. Occasionally sighing out loud due the torturing dullness.
   I played with my (h/c) silky (h/l) hair my eyes lifeless and my mind occupied.  
   Once again I started questioning my own decisions. It wasn’t like I regretted any of them, I guess, it was just that if I had chosen other vice I wouldn’t be here and alone. But would I be here at all. Not here here, but here. In the world, alive.
   So much had been going on just a couple of weeks ago, but after that. Nothing. I haven’t even heard of anyone who was part of the operation back then. Not them and most importantly, not him.

   Just breaking in to the old chemistry lab, no biggie. It was nice and almost nostalgic if you think about it. Even if it had only been two years since the last time we were there stealing some chemicals and messing with the security guards it was still some what treasured memory.
   But not everything went as smoothly as we planned, no, everything turned to shit the moment the lights turned on. So they did have motion sensors on the lights, who would have guessed? And if that wasn’t enough it also alerted reinforcement of guards. We had taken down the couple that were patrolling at the factory but the new group was more than we could handle and not just that, of course Batman had to come too.
   After running around the mill for about an hour, collecting everything in need and what we could carry the flying rat found us. We had been lucky with the guards, I mean me and him, others had just disappeared or probably arrested but of course our luck ran out at that second when the man dressed in black leather and a cape arrived. Taking my mallet with out even thinking I charged at the bat and swing the heavy weapon at him, but swiftly he dodged and the mallet hit couple of boxes, trashing the wood in splinters and getting stuck. I tried pulling the thing off, trying to swing it over my shoulder but it was stuck in place and I had to move fast if I didn’t want to end up in jail.
   I turned and dodged, knowing Batman was going to hit me down and managing to get some space in between us. I also looked a little around myself. That bastard! Of course he fled. Leaving me to deal with Batman again, alone! Ugh. Like every other time. He leaves, I end up in jail, break out, he collects me from god knows where after I’ve made myself in the headlines how much I had tormented cities and stole money and then end up in this position again.
   ”Not this time!” I growl madly, my eyes glistening in the dim light and taking a hold of the mallet, with rage I pull the the fucking thing up, swing it across the air and hit Bats in the head. He doesn’t lose his consciousness though, but he does wobble the few next steps. My time to shine. I don’t have time to kill the guy, but I do knock him off his feet, hopefully making some critical damage to his feet, and taking my exit.
   I’m in the second floor of the building and it’s not one of those two to three meters high floors, no, this is a chemistry lab. An old factory. It’s high enough for me to die if I jump. Oh well, time to call for my reinforcement.
   I take the phone I had in my back pocket and go through the names humming nervously and gazing over my shoulder every second. I then notice my phone’s screen go black and in a blink of an eye there reads PUDDIN in big bold letters with buttons for answer and decline. I of course answer the call and in no time, before getting even a chance of answering he starts yelling in the phone.
   ”Where are you?” His raging. His completely losing it and I can feel my heart beat speeding. ”You better be with the Batman keeping him off my tail!”
   My reply has no confidence on it, I stutter and smile nervously at my end of the line. ”I was just going to call us a ride.”
   ”What?” He snaps and I flinch at the sharpness of his tone. ”You better turn back and find the bat, keep him busy. I’ll get the ride and you better find him fast because I will kill you with my bare hands if he finds me first!” Then the line goes silent. I feel despair filling my body. I take a deep breath and turn my back to the open sky, staring at the door where I came from to the roof.
   The wind starts blowing fast, my hair moving with it and I hear a loud noise from behind me. I turn around, scared it’s Batman with his plane thing, but see a helicopter. It has to be our ride. No. It’s his ride. I’m not supposed to be here, I’m supposed to be left behind to keep Bats busy. The pilot’s buddy hangs half out of the copter, calling for me.
   ”You guys needed a lift?” He yells over the noise.
   ”Yeah, but he’s still inside!” I yell back. Then I hear a police car, I head to the rail of the roof and gaze over. Shit, there’s Gordon. Things are going way too fast forward. The game’s almost over. I feel my insides making turn in my stomach. This will not end well.
   ”We can’t stay here and wait for him!” The guy yells at me. ”I’m not going to take a risk of ending up in jail. We gotta go now!” He then straightens his arm, extending it towards me. ”Come on!” I’m scared. I’ve disobeyed his commands many times this night already and from here there might not be chances of going back.
   ”He’ll kill us!” I yell over the noise, it’s almost deafening.
   ”He’ll kill us if we let something happen to you!” He shouts. ”Jump! Now!” He’s command hits a nerve. I feel a rush going trough me. It’s maybe the harshness of his voice or the loud noise, but I throw the mallet behind me, charge at the copter and take a hold of the man’s hand. With that we leave. And after that night I never heard of them.

   I keep staring at the ceiling. I’m lying on the floor, on my back in front of my sofa. With lazy eyes, wondering thoughts I sit up. I start to stare at the wall. What if I had stayed? What if I had went to look for Batman? Would I have found him? Would I have ended up in Arkham again? Or would’ve I ran into Joker and got my head blown off? What if he got arrested? Almost hoping it would be true I play with the thought. He’d be locked up for awhile, but soon enough breaking out. He always does. He’d come for me and kill me. But if he didn’t get caught, where was he? Or was…
   I jump up from the floor. He couldn’t be dead, right? That would be all over the news, wouldn’t it? I… What would I…
   I grip the sides of my head, going through the thought of loss and emptiness, panicking like mad.
   What do I do? It’s my fault! If I would’ve stayed-!
   My thoughts and panic are interrupted. There is a loud knock on the door. I turn my head to the direction of the source of the sound but do not move. Should I go see who it is? Or just stay here, and wait for them to go away? But to my surprise the next sound is not something that I expected. There is a key now, on the lock of my door, turning in and giving slowly and agonizingly access to the person to my apartment. I grab my mallet, a wooden one, next to the doorway of the kitchen and swing it over my shoulder, getting ready for a fight.
   ”Honey, I’m home!” The voice is happy and high pitched, it sends a spark go through my brain, instantly I let the mallet fall on the floor and cry happily ”Puddin?” Tears are forming in the corners of my eyes and I charged at the man at the door way.
   Before I had even taken a hold of the thought of losing the psycho, he appears at my door, with a smile on his face like nothing had happened. Overjoyed I was. Of course. Not seeing him for too long I missed him more than I like to admit, but he probably knows it. Every memory of the night we were separated slip from my head and all I want is to hug him and kiss him!
   He smiles wickedly, he doesn’t look any different. He hasn’t any cuts or bruises on his face or any marks of a fight. I start to rethink what had happened. Probably nothing. He just got away, took his time and headed home. Home. To me.
   His (h/c) hair was messy, slightly pulled back and his pale skin glistening of sweat. Had he been doing something before he got here? His clothes were a bit wet, the weather in Gotham had never been that good and rain wasn’t something that surprised the citizens. It had been clouded for weeks now and raining from day to day with out breaks.
   He shuts the door behind him with an aggressively loud bang and turns to scowl at me and then I notice I have acted to hastily.
   I’m right in front of him, only couple inches in between us and he swings the back of his right hand across my face. I fall on my ass with a loud thud and end up rubbing my now red, hurting cheek. The tears in my eyes now staining my cheeks.
   ”You stupid bitch!” He snaps and readies his hand for another hit. He slams my other cheek, making me fall on the floor, on my side. Then he walked over me, positions himself on his knees and takes his hands on my neck, putting pressure on his fingers he squeezes my windpipe until I can’t do nothing else than gasp for air.
   ”You couldn’t follow my simple orders but left me handle all those idiots all alone and if it wasn’t enough you also stole my ride!” He put more pressure on my neck, I moved my hands on the floor, trying to grab something. ”It didn’t take me long to find those brutes though, but don’t worry, you’ll see them soon enough!” He laughs maniacally, the sound so familiar to me that it feels like it hasn’t really been that long since the last time I heard it.
   Then I feel something on the end of my fingers. There’s a baseball bat under my bed and I grab it and aim to the clowns head. He yelps and falls off of me, some hair falling over his face, I jump up, a little dizzy and take my time to breath evenly again, still holding onto the bat.
   ”Why you little…” He growls as he stands up, pulling the loose strands of hair back from clouding his vision, glaring me. There is a long space between us and with the bat in hand I keep it that way, or intend to.
   ”I waited for you!” I snapped and swing the bat at his direction, he of course dodges it easily and I take a step closer, heading for a good target and space. ”I told them to wait!” With another swing I hit his right shoulder. ”But it was too late!” I snap and lift the bat over my head and swing it at his head, but he slips right past me, and behind my back he goes. I hit the floor with the bat, hear a loud bang and lift it up again. I turn to face him.
   ”Oh so it is my fault the gig got ruined?” He holds his hand over his chest like he is offended. A glint in my eyes I react to his words.
   ”Yes!” I groan. ”You left me with the Bat, again! You always do that you asshole!” And I let the bat fly through the air this time hitting the wall. Why can’t he stay put! ”And I’ve had it with how things go! I help you out, I get caught, I break out on my own and then you show up when you see me useful again!” I pull the bat over my head again, readying myself when the Joker pulls a gun from his pocket and pulls the trigger, firing and blasting the bat in bits.
I throw the holder of the remains of my weapon over my shoulder and head for my mallet but before I get even close to the thing, Joker snatches me and pulls me close to him. Before I can do or say anything he smashes his lips against mine.
   The kiss is forceful, but passionate. Even if I tried I couldn’t get myself free from his hold. A part of me wants to try though and another part, well, the most of me missed this.
   I let my body relax, leaning against him and feeling his arms wrap around my waist, trapping me in place. It’s not intimidating. No, not anymore and I can feel myself fully enjoying the embrace, taking a hold of the back of his jacket with my other hand and the other burying my fingers in his hair and pulling him closer to me, even though there was no space between us.
   It takes us minutes to get ourselves pause our make out session and with a dizzy feeling in my head, a stupid grin on my face I stare at his eyes as he pulls away from me, only just a little, not letting me go of his arms, but so we can breathe.
   ”I’m sorry honey that our little date got ruined back then.” He smiled at me, his fingers playing with my hair. ”But next time do as daddy says, alright?” His comment wakes me up from the venomous effect of the kiss and I frown.
   ”But I would’ve ended up in Arkham.” I say softly, pouting like a kid but keeping my voice down, not wanting to anger him again. The situation had died down and ended nice enough and I didn’t want to push my luck. ”Again.” I added quietly.
   Joker only grinned at me and caressed my cheek gently. ”You would’ve gotten out in no time.” He said, but knew that wouldn’t calm me down so he continued. ”There is nothing that will keep us apart and you know it. Otherwice I wouldn’t be here now, now would I?”
   I laughed and nuzzled close to him, my head on the crook of his neck while his arm was around my waist loosely. ”Now, it’s been long since we had fun, hasn’t it?” He hinted, which made me giggle. ”Why won’t we relax and have fun just the two of us for the next couple of days, huh?” The thought made my body tingle, there was nothing I wanted or treasured more than alone time with my Joker.


Made myself a wooden mallet with refittable mallet ends. The head is made of Arizona Ironwood burl, the ends are made of Spruce and the handle is carved from Ash. The end grain on the ends is ok, but I would like to use it as a type of rubber hammer. I will probably exchange the ends with Lime, letting the grain flow to the side.
It has alot of power for a relatively light wooden hammer :) That’s probably due to the length of the handle.

IMAGINE: Negan running into a female version of himself….

Jeffrey Dean Morgan Master List


“I said get on your knees bitch!” Ben yelled.

“I bet your fucken mom heard that shit all the time.” Was the reply he got back.

Ben raised his hand in the air to strick.

“Ben! Calm your fucken shit man! Maybe fucking please would fucken help out here.” Negan said, walking up swinging his trusting Lucille around. “So sexy, would you fucken please get down on your mother fucken knees.”

“Mother fucker, I just met your fucken ass and your already fucken want me down on my mother fucken knees. Shit, as least buy a fucken girl a mother fucking drink first.” She said, smiling at him.

Negan kept a straight face and everyone started to look at each other, then back to him. He place Lucille on his shoulder and walked over to the girl.

Everyone seem to get nervous. Negan wasn’t one to ever hit a woman, but they never seen or heard of a woman talking back to him like that. The he did something no one expect.

Negan started busting up laughing. “ Fuck girl. I fucken like you. What’s your fucken name?” Negan said, offering his hand.

“(Y/N). And who the fuck are you?” She said, shaking his hand.

“I’m Negan. Nice to fucken meet you. Usually I fucken bash one of you or your friends fucken heads in and force you to give half your shit. But I think I’m fucken feeling fucken nice today. So fucken join us and join me for a fucken drink, and I’ll fucken spare you guys.” Negan said, with a big grin.

“Negan? O your the mother fucker I heard about with all those fucken chicks. Man should have fucken said something before I shook your mother fucken hand. I might have fucken got something.” She said, winking at him.

Negan laugh again and put his arm around his shoulder. “Men this is a mother fucken woman right here. Not fucken scared of fucken shit and has one hell of a sense of humor. Don’t fucken mess with her or her fucken friends here. You fucken do, I’ll fucken fuck your fucken ass up, with Lucille.” Negan said, with a firm tone and raising Lucille in the air.

“Lucille?” She said, looking at the bat.

“Yes. And she is fucking awesome, (Y/N).” Negan said, swinging Lucille around.

(Y/N) laugh, Negan looked offend but before he could say anything (Y/N) spoke up.

“These fuckers here, said I was fucken crazy to name my wonderful and beautiful weapon of choice.” She said. She pointed at one of Negan’s men. “Hey fucker. Yeah you fucker, I’m pointing at you. Had my fucken shit over.”

He walked over with a large wooden mallet that had cravings of smiling faces and diamonds on it. Then there were craving at the end of it saying, “Your Face Here.”

“This is fucken Harley. Name after my fucken favorite DC COMIC character. And she is fucken awesome.” She said, placing the mallet on her shoulders, smiling at him.

“Did we fucken just become best friends?” Negan said, smiling back at her. “You know (Y/N), this is a start of a fucken beautiful friendship. Come on let me fucken get you that fucken drink.” Wrapping his arm around her again and leading her to his truck.

“It better be some mother fucking whisky and not some pussy ass drink.” She said, about to get in his truck. He spun her around and she looked at him in confusion.

“Fucken marry me woman.” Negan said, getting down one knee.

“Leave all those bitches and I’ll fucken think about it.” She said, smiling down at him.

“Fucken done.” Negan said, turning back to his men. “You guys can have your fucken bitches back. I just fucken found the girl of my mother fucken dreams.”

Negan turned back to her and smile.

(Y/N) laugh and nodded. “Alright fucker, you fucken win.” She looked over at her friends that were getting up. “Nathan. Eric. Sorry we’re no longer fuck buddies.”

Negan looked up at her. “What? A mother fucken girl got fucken needs too, shit.” She said, smiling at him.

Negan busted up laughing, he got back up and picked her up. He carried her in his arms and looked at his men.

“So boys say fucken hi to my new and only fucken wife. And you fucken fuckers, you fucken try to get fucken back at (Y/N), I’ll fucken bash your fucken heads in.” Negan said, laughing when they looked down.

Negan put her in the truck and he got in. “You fuckers, go fuck off while I fucken take my wife on our fucken honeymoon!” Negan yelled, as they drove off.

“What the hell just happened?” Nathan asked out loud.

“The hell if I know.” Ben said, as they all walked off.

@twd-tvd-to-imagines @tortouswall
Just a short on for you guys ☺

Intro to Upper Class Culture, Part 2: Equestrian Sports

Ahh, equestrianism. It’s a topic I reluctantly know more about than I ever cared to because my boyfriend is obsessed with horses. He owns seven of them now: two Thoroughbreds, two Arabians, one Andalusian, one Appaloosa, and one Quarter Horse. They’re all fairly versatile breeds and pretty popular breeds, often used in equestrian sports. If you’re like me you’ll probably think “A horse is a horse, does it matter?” and the answer is that it matters greatly as horses come in varying sizes, shapes and have different talents specific to their breed.

Although horses have been used in everything from plowing fields to herding cattle (and still are!) I include equestrianism in “Upper Class Culture” because horses are a very expensive investment. I asked D how much it would cost at the very minimum to take care of a horse per year and he estimated at the very least three or four thousand dollars. I asked him how much he spent per horse every year and he laughed and declined to comment, but when I asked if it was more than ten thousand he laughed and said, “A lot more”. I did a little research online and found some sources saying 15K was a decent chunk of change to spend on a horse, so I’ll assume D is spending more since spendthrift isn’t one of his many good qualities. Let’s estimate he spends 20K/year on each horse. That’s $140,000 per year on a hobby. When is the last time you dropped over a hundred grand on a hobby?

So, now that we’ve established how grossly expensive this is, it’s time to learn what people do with these walking money pits! I’m going to focus on a few different activities you can do with horses that are particularly “upper crust” and there are a lot more but as it is this is going to be a pretty lengthy post. The horse industry in the US alone is a $102 billion+ industry so there’s just a lot of facets, and if I don’t cover one you’re interested in message me and maybe I’ll do a “Equestrian Sports Part 2”.

Horse Racing

The one that’s on everyone’s mind right now! For the first time in 36 years we have a Triple Crown winner, American Pharoah, the beautiful thoroughbred who beat the odds and won it all. Horse racing is a massive industry, mainly because of the gambling that goes along with it, and is probably America’s favorite equestrian sport. There are thousands upon thousands of horse races across the US per year but they vary from very seedy to very classy, and I’ll assume if you’re reading this you’re going to the latter.

Horse racing is pretty straight forward. The gates open and horses, ridden by a jockey, run for a certain distance. Races are generally limited to one different breed of horse (or a couple types) because otherwise there would be unfair advantages between breeds. The most common types of race horses are Thoroughbreds, Arabians and Quarter Horses. The Triple Crown, a set of three races that begins with the Kentucky Derby, then goes to the Preakness and finally Belmont Stakes, is for Thoroughbred horses.

Now, if you’re attending a big fancy horse racing event such as a leg of the Triple Crown, you’re free to dress up like you’d imagine people do. Colorful Lilly Pulitzer sundresses and over the top hats are completely acceptable. For men, tailored suits, bow ties and flower lapels are always classic. If you’re with someone who is upper class, generally you won’t be sitting in the stands but will be seated somewhere more comfortable, so although everyone will be cheering at the end of the race, don’t get too rowdy lest you scare the bourgeois.


Nothing says preppy quite like Polo. It evokes images of men on horseback, bright grassy fields, and, if you’re like me, Ralph Lauren. Polo originated in Persia and was brought to India where it was eventually taught to British military officers and brought back to the UK and via the UK much of the rest of the world. It’s most popular today in Argentina, the US and the UK. Polo is played on horseback with a small, solid plastic ball on the ground that is hit by riders armed with wooden mallets who try to shoot the ball into (weirdly large) goals. There are four players on each team (3 in arena). The riders ride “Polo Ponies” who are frequently rotated out and look absurdly small to be carrying full grown adults. It’s more fun to watch than you’d assume, and actually really fun and a little bit scary to play (10/10 would recommend).

Event Dress: Dress nicely, but don’t look too fancy. A nice sundress, trousers and a good blouse, something flowy, light and summery is all good. Keep it classy, preppy is always a good option. And for all that is good and decent in this world do not come dressed as stereotypically western or British-no top hats or cowgirl boots. No. A word about heels: don’t wear stilettos. Wear wedges. Why? You’ve all seen “Pretty Woman”, don’t feign naivety with me. During the halftime and at the end of the game, it’s tradition for the public to be called onto the field to help fill in the holes left by the horse hooves. If you’re in stilettos you’re going to make walking in the grass harder on yourself, one, and two, make the grass even worse, and three, not be able to participate in the fun part of the game for the spectators. Also, no big crazy hats. I saw some American women do this on a British reality show and cringed. Don’t be those women. Keep things simple and classy, fashion wise.

I’m going to limit this post to those two things because I think those are the most important to touch on. If you’re ever being brought to another equestrian event (dressage, eventing, show jumping, etc.) then you can never go wrong with a nice tight pair of jeans, riding boots and a good cashmere sweater. If you get invited to go riding with someone, do take the opportunity because it’s a lot of fun and less scary the more you do it. Horses are wonderful, very loving and intelligent animals so it’s easy to see how people get roped into pouring their hard earned cash into them.

A little vocab and then we’ll almost be done

Foal: A baby horse

Filly: A female baby horse

Colt: A male baby horse

Suckling: A baby horse still nursing

Mare: A female adult horse

Stallion: A male adult horse that isn’t castrated

Gelding: A male adult horse that is castrated

anonymous asked:

If I said I wanted to invite your nieces to play a sport that involves hitting plastic or wooden balls with a mallet through hoops embedded in a grass playing court, would that be Qrow-kay with you?

Enough already!


[image: three screencaps of the character log in screen in WoW. First is a troll with green blue hair, a tall, semi-buff body, and light purple skin, wearing patterend armor with repeating diamond shapes, and holding a wooden mallet. Second is a blood elf with light blond hair and green featureless eyes, with a lithe body and purple and red robes, holding a magic staff and glowering a little. Third is a draenei with grey-ish greeni-sh skin, darker grey-ish greenish hair, horns coming out the top of her head and plain white eyes, dressed in copper looking armor and holding a sword. End image]

The newest OCs, from WoW. In order we have Cravuss, which I thought sounded like a generically troll-y name (based of… generic troll ideas? I hadn’t seen anything of WoW’s trolls when I made her), and hten two OCs I didn’t know how to name so I hit randomize until something I thought was decent came up – Cynilithil for the blood elf and Depidris for the draenei

They all have relatively poorly defined characters at the moment because I literally just started playing the game.

Before and After

Prologue: Twelve Hours

Ashton Irwin story.

The story of a Bella’s life before the attack and then after. She meets a wonderful stranger, Ashton, who shows her things she never thought possible. She shows him how to love even in the darkest of times. They slowly find their way through their said excuse of life. 

I’ve always been afraid of death. But right now, I want to welcome it with open arms. The blow to my back was the last thing I felt from my attacker. Everything else didn’t faze me. My face is numb and covered with my own blood. My body is curled into fetal position, but it doesn’t matter. Every fiber in my bones is flaming with pain. I had stopped screaming a long time ago. I wish I would pass out. I wish I would fall unconscious so I don’t have to feel it anymore. I wish I would just die already. That’s his plan right? To kill me? I don’t know why or how, because I don’t even know this man.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

If I said I wanted to invite your nieces to play a sport that involves hitting plastic or wooden balls with a mallet through hoops embedded in a grass playing court, would that be Qrow-kay with you?

First off, don’t ever make that pun again.
Second, as long as nothing freaky happens.


The true meaning of “Sticky rice cakes”

So my friend and I were talking ‘bout the “Bae Bae“ MV. I was telling her about the “Sticky rice cake” lyrics that should mean “I wanna have sex”.  When she said I was all wrong and it’s even dirtier than what I already thought! Her Korean friend explained the figurative meaning of this word use is not to have “just normal” sex but to have ROUGH SEX!

Her words: “The “sticky rice cakes” is referring to sexual intercource. It’s an extremely old and traditional euphemism. Anyway, it’s not because “sticky rice cakes” are white and sticky that it’s associated with sex… That’s completely wrong information that’s currently being spread on youtube. It’s the traditional method of making “chap-ssal-ddeok” in which you take a wooden mallet and pound heavy on a soft pile of rice cake that is associated with sex.” In this case… hard, rough, very dirty banging!

She showed me this video of how sticky rice cakes are really made and it changed our view on this MV & sticky rice cakes forever!!!…

Just those dirty dirty dirty motherfucking minds!!!!

(plz spread this to all dirty minded vips who deserve the truth)

anonymous asked:

If I said I wanted to invite your nieces to play a sport that involves hitting plastic or wooden balls with a mallet through hoops embedded in a grass playing court, would that be Qrow-kay with you?

Dude stop