Tag: magnificent

thebootydiaries:

Tears fill my eyes as I read the words on my screen. The world seems to stop spinning for the slightest second as I re-read the anonymous message over and over again, gripping on to the hope that the words will magically disappear. But they didn’t. Anon had done it; they’d figured out that the only way to make me take off my hijab was to call my hair ugly. My one weakness.

A tear streams down my left cheek.

Eight years of academy hijab training…wasted. I had to prove this extremely relevant and good-looking anonymous person wrong, I cared too much about what they thought. How could I live my life knowing that there is one person out there who thinks probably my hair is ugly maybe? How could I look myself in the mirror? How could I face my family? My shoulders shook as I cried silently, and my chair squeaked ever so slightly at the vibrations; as if it, too, was crying in sorrow.

It wasn’t until that moment that the second part of the message dawned on me… how would I prove them wrong without breaking the rules? Was it really against the rules? I reach into my hijab and pull out a scroll. At the very top, in cursive jet-black inked letters, the word ‘Rules’ stares back at me. My heart is racing as my eyes frantically read the scroll.

‘Rule #1: no killing people,’ it reads. I let out a whimper. There go my evening plans. 

Suddenly, my eye catches the next words. The scroll is rustling in my trembling hands as I turn my face away, tears spraying out of my eyes like the spit of a white person as they try to justify racism. The cursive words felt more like a curse of words, vivid and refusing to disappear as if I were still staring at them even through my closed eyes.

Rule #2: don’t show ur hair girl it’s ugly lmaooooo

Source: thebootydiaries

gallusrostromegalus:

jealousofbelle:

gallusrostromegalus:

botanyshitposts:

thought you’d appreciate this: a fuckoff huge zucchini that materialized on our kitchen counter a couple days ago. I knew it was a squash, but I never would’ve guessed it was a fucking ZUCCHINI (submitted by @alienhazy)

dude….holy shit what an absolute UNIT

okay seriously tho what is it with zucchini. like my mom grows zucchini in her garden and no matter what it ALWAYS just pumps out zucchinis 5x the size of the ones at the store at 5x the rate…i gotta look up what the world record for biggest zucchini is its gotta be massive

Ok, I have to go to dinner but remind me to tell you about the canoe when I get back.

………….. Please tell us about the canoe when you get back?

Ok, so back when I was living in California as a wee chicken, my paternal grandafather of the Peach Tree Incident and my Mom got to complaining about zucchini.  What posessed people to get and plant them every spring?  They’re scratchy, always over-yeilded for the amount you could eat, didn’t preserve well and didn’t taste that good either.

“The only fun part is when you don’t see one of them until it gets huge and you go around showing it to the neighbors.”  Grandpa groused.

“You know, I wonder just how big they can get?” Mom speculated.  This being the Nineties, we couldn’t Google up the answer and didn’t have a copy of the Guiness on hand, so we couldn’t find out right away*

“Alright, since we both know we’re going to go mad and forget and get one anyway this spring, why don’t we have a little wager? You grow yours, I’ll grow mine, and the winner buys the loser dinner.”  Grandpa didn’t like gambling, but he did like pointlessly fun compettitons and excuses to come see us.

“You’re on Edwin.”  Said Mom, also a fan of jacknapery and her in-laws.

The following March, the first debate broke out about whether they both needed to start from the same type of zucchini, as a measure of skill, or if picking out the correct breed of zucchini was a measure of skill in itself.  They ended up putting different breeds into the ground, one in my front yard in Mountain Veiw, at the base of the Avocado tree (”Maybe it’ll discourage Mrs. McGurkey from filching my Avocados.” Mom speculated.  It did not.) and the other in Salinas.

Both sites were blessed with abundant sunshine, good municipal water and some of the best agricultural dirt on earth- Salinas is a former river delta and our house was built on top of what used to be a duck farm, and was practically reeking of nitrogen.  In additon to this, Mom and Grandpa plied every known vegetable growing trick to encourage the largest Zucchini possible- limiting the total number of fruits for the plant to invest in by pinching off blossoms until there were only 3 or 4 zucchini (one needed spares, in case of accidents), doses of sugar water injected into the stems, Standing outside and verbally menacing the plant when it looked like it wasn’t putting enough effort in.

When a clear champion began to emerge from our plant, lovingly named “Floyd”, Mom dug a trough to encourage it to keep growing, and avoid scarring by growing over other stems or the hose.  Grandpa chose to hang “Richard”, in hopes that gravity would encourage it.  All summer was phone calls back and forth, and visits to eyeball the compettition. Tips and methods were exchanged in mock-interrogations and jokes were cracked about appearing in the night to kidnap the compettion.  Mom even got me and my sister Kid night-goggles to practice snaking around in the yard after dark with.  They didn’t DO anything besides make us feel Supremely Cool.

Come September, the two fruits had grown to spectacular size- sugar water didn’t seem to make much of a differnce, but plentiful water in general did. and the matter of when the measuring would take place came up.  Costal California doesn’t really get frosts, but the measuring had to be taken at some point.  I was decided that since my grandparents would be coming up for my Birthday in mid-October anyway, the measuring would take place then.

The were.  Spectacular.  

Mom’s was Four feet and Four inches long, (which happened to be my exact height that year), had a diameter of Five and ¼ inches at it’s widest point, and weighed 22 and a half pounds, a deep purple-green with an attractive pale sun-spotting.

Grandpas was four foot eight, had a diameter of Four and ¾ inches at it’s widest and weighed 20.1 pounds.  It was a long, lean forest green with prickly hairs as long as eyelashes

I remember because in all the preperations for the measuring, Mom and Grandpa had never actually agreed on HOW they were measuring the Zucchini.  Richard had the length, but Floyd had the heft.  A Bottle of wine was opened and jokes were made about the merits of Length vs Girth that I would accidentally repeat in school the following week and poor Mrs Kivley would call demanding a parent-teacher conference.

My Dad, ever the enginner, eventually determined the volume and density of each Zucchini, and Floyd was declared the winner. (roughly 1100 cubic inches and 920 cubic inches respectively).  

“So what are you actually going to do with these things?” Dad asked. “I’ve reached my limit on Zucchini bread already and I have no idea if these are good eating at this size.”

There was a hestiation in the party, both at the question and becuase Mazel the dog had gotten onto the table to eat my cake.  I, being 7 at the time, began to bawl, becuase Floyd and I had become very good friends over the summer, and becuase I despised Zucchini bread.  My sister also began to cry in solidarity, and this was enough to convince Mazel to abandon her Death By Chocolate and come comfort us.

“…Do they float?” Mom asked, once things had quieted down slightly.

“Yes, why?’ asked my dad. 

“Well, supposing we carve the top third of Floyd off and then hollow him out a bit, then Halve Richard and put him on the sides… I think they’re sturdy enough to make an outrigger Canoe out of.”

Which is Precisely what we did the next day, which required the use of a table saw becuase Zucchini will get dense like a winter squash if allowed to mature.  the canoe was crafted entirely of the two Mega Zucchini and a passenger was fashioned from a third, smaller Zucchini that had been found lucking in the leaves that morning.  He was named Peter Johnson.

I had a lot of Parent-teacher conferences as a child. 

Mom graciously agreed to take the lot of us out to dinner at The Whole Enchilada in Moss Landing, and made sure to get a table facing the harbor, into which Captain Peter Johnson and the Zucchini Canoe were released, much to the delight of the staff, and the confusion of a dozen seagulls that were hoping for something more calorie-intense than raw veg, and the dismay of one overexcited pelican that dive-bombed the craft and sunk it before it could leave harbour.

You’ve not known funny until you’ve watched a baffled pelican tilt it’s head over to disloge a tiny zucchini man from it’s gullet, and peck at it, bewlidered and dismayed for a good ten minutes, before delicately kicking it off the dock with a webbed foot in disgust.

*7ft and 10.3 inches, weighing in at 64.8 lbs, grown by a Mr.Gurdial Singh Kanwal of Brampton, Ontario in 2005. IDK what the previous record-holder got to, but Mr.Kanwal’s specimen sounds like it could have been made into a proper Kyak!

Source: botanyshitposts

List of bullshit I pulled in high school

nidoranduran:

dnygren01:

autisticyohane:

nidoranduran:

  • My yearbook photo was a picture of some random baby off of Google I photoshopped my 17 year-old self’s head onto. It made it in.
  • Slipped a video titled “hot busty lesbian porn” into the personal folders of everyone in my computer class, which after they all crowded around to see what it was, turned out to be the video for Never Gonna Give You Up (it was 2007, so not yet a worn out joke). Thanks to them (like idiots) deciding to swarm a computer with sound, the computer lab filled up with cheesy ‘80s pop and the sound of me laughing so hard I ended up on the floor clutching my stomach.
  • Figured out that the school board internet filters blocked based on words and URLs, so I bypassed them simply by pinging their IP addresses, giving me free reign to Youtube and wherever else I felt like going to. I abused this power, and the fact I luckily had one of the computers with built-in speakers, to blast copious amounts of death metal all class.
  • Formed an air band called Minotaur Lizards whose career peak was “playing” a montage of classic rock songs during a school presentation.
  • Acted out the mock trial that made up the final for our senior year Law class as head prosecutor, wearing no shirt, no socks, a Dead Kennedys t-shirt, and shorts. Somehow got 10/10 for “appropriateness of dress” by being so utterly wrong that the teacher considered me to have looped back around.
  • Made sure that the yearbook contained the words “Harry Potter erotica”, and nobody realized until it had already gone to print.
  • Did accounting for some of the pot dealers in my year and ended up taking a good cash bonus home after my suggested “baked sale” hit it big.
  • Managed to get out of gym class the last two years on the promise to teachers that if I kept a friend, who was in a wheelchair and one of the above-mentioned dealers, occupied and out of trouble, I could skimp on doing class for non-test days and eke out a 75%.
  • Turned in so many bullshit essays and “I was bored on this vocabulary test so I write it all in haiku” results that teachers would be disappointed if I turned in ‘normal effort’ work.
  • Found out someone I really disliked hated my laugh, and dialed up how totally hilarious I found Cool Runnings so much that my laughter got him into a hissy fit that ended with his suspension.
  • Figured out the school’s weak exits where one could slip through without being noticed, and began selling this information to people once our school cut its truancy officer for budget reasons.
  • Managed to send through enough filthily-worded Valentine’s Day candygrams with the help of a friend on the inside that there were no candygrams the next year.
  • Did most of my work for my last year on a single piece of paper I’d just fold up and stick back in my pocket out of general laziness and my lack of need for notes. Math teacher kept poking fun at it, which led to an escalating war of attrition that ended when I handed in a test written on a corn tortilla.
  • Was voted Most Unique in what is most certainly the last flattering time that award was given in the school’s history

chaotic evil

“wearing no shirt, no socks, a Dead Kennedys t-shirt”

How do you wear no shirt and a shirt at the same time?

By meaning to type “no shoes” and fucking that up.

sunrisenebula:

nyquildriver:

derinthemadscientist:

unpretty:

Kyle could probably make everyone’s lives a lot easier by designing supervillain costumes that are completely impractical, like they’ll make it hard to move without their pants falling down or whatever, but he just has too much pride in his work. He would honestly be pretty stoked to just tell people that he is the Green Lantern, but he put his real name on his twitter account so if people know that Green Lantern is Kyle Rayner, they will also know that Green Lantern is weedhorse69. He still does not know what Batman might do to him. He saw the news. He saw Wonder Woman wearing that tank top while she punched a giant gorilla mechsuit. He must take his secrets to the grave.

He is found out when Green Lantern starts sporting a stylish Weedhorse Look and Batman notices that that costume (indeed, any GL costume) is absent from his account. When people ask why he was searching the entire account for sexy GL pics he mumbles something about security and walks away.

@shamrockjolnes

oh my very god

element-of-change:

marauders4evr:

Does anyone else remember the time that Bryke was mad at the Avatar toyline? Because the company just kept demanding more and more ludicrous ideas for action figures? (But still refused to make female action figures.)

And one day, the company asked them to make a battle outfit for Aang.

And Bryke was just like, “…The airbenders were pacifists?”

And the toy company was like, “Just give us something!”

So Bryke literally told everyone in the studio to come up with all of these ridiculous ideas and they actually combined them all together and made this:

image

Needless to say the toy wasn’t passed.

I think about this a lot.

this is just the classiest and most hilarious “FUCK YOU” ever

theheroheart:

sushigal007:

a-creepy-wholockian:

phoenix-aflame:

benjaminminu:

How the fuck did he get hired there giving his name as “The Doctor”?

Im pretty sure he either used psychic paper or said “fuck it” and just made his own name tag and pretended he was hired.

I have one of those Doctor Who books that gives extra info on stuff and someone made up the application he sent to get hired and you really have to find it and see it because it’s pure gold. He put his age as like 1,200 and crossed it out and put 50 or something then wrote “Is that too high?” and crossed that out too and just wrote 29

I know I already reblogged it, but I had a feeling I’d seen that application IRL, so I dug out my books and went looking.

🙂

image

i cant

Source: timelordgifs

If I can ever recommend one thing to you, it is this:

cerastes:

I have several done years of RPing, and this has taken me to countless different forums and, if you are at all familiar with RP forums, let me tell you, they were the lowest of the low some six or seven years ago.

In one of these forums, a legendary tale happened, a tale that, if I can ever recommend one thing to you, it is this:

The Ballad of Edgardo.

A story that happened to an anonymous RPer years ago.

Anyone will be able to appreciate it (and trust me, you will), but if you are kinsmen or kinswomen to me, if you ever had to experience the shittiest of RP forums and their terrible userbases, particularly that one guy that does whatever he wants and is an asshole that clearly godmods but gets away with it because the actual mods don’t give a damn, you will find the beauty behind the ballad that much brighter.

Just trust me on this one. It’s not a particularly long read, either.

I hope you enjoy The Ballad of Edgardo