emocas:

one of my favorite FOB encounter stories is the one where this girl was eating at a restaurant and she was wearing a FOB shirt and she felt someone looking at her so she looked out the glass window she was sitting by and Pete Wentz was on the other side of the glass just staring at her and grinning. 

I am struck occasionally, usually while snuggling the cat, with our faith in domestication.

The cat is a small, ferocious predator, twelve pounds of…well, flab and fur, frankly, in Athena’s case, but what muscle there is is strong all out of proportion to her size. I have watched three 150+ primates try and fail to subdue a ten pound cat, and consider it not at all unusual. The cat is as flexible as a snake and as strong as an ox. She has quite dainty looking teeth and claws, but there’s nothing dainty about their ability to flay flesh from bone.

If the cat and I were in a duel to the death, I would almost certainly win. I am 15+ times larger than she is, after all, and while my teeth and claws are pathetic, I have prehensile hands capable of doing terrible things. But if I had to go in naked, as the cat does, (and assuming the cat was aware that she was going to have to kill me, and not taking a nap in the corner) I can pretty much guarantee it would be a Pyhrric victory. I’d look like I’d gone ten rounds with a wolverine. I would need stitches. A lot of stitches. Possibly a glass eye. And antibiotics by the truckload. It’d be a mess, and there would even be a chance of an upset if the cat managed to go face-hugger on me.

And yet, despite the knowledge of the shocking amount of damage my small predator could inflict, it never occurs to me to worry. I pick the cat up and she tucks her head under my chin and purrs, canine teeth centimeters from my jugular, and despite the fact that I am carrying a ruthless carnivore in a position where she could, with great ease, remove me from the gene pool, I am thoroughly content with the world. Even knowing full well that cats are not even a truly domesticated animal, that Athena’s kin might best be described as “consistently tamed,” my greatest concern is that my black tank top is now coated in white cat hairs.

We have such faith in the process of domestication, despite the sheer unnaturalness of what’s happening. Small predators do not curl up on the chests of large primates and purr in the wild. And yet, every now and again, generally when my small predator is purring on the chest of this particular primate, I think How strange, how strange… that we’re doing this, and even stranger, that we both take it completely for granted, and find nothing unusual in such a completely unlikely alliance.

Jesus fuck I hate the tumblr app at times. I didn't mean to unfollow you, dear! How are you doing though, I haven't talked to you in soooo long.

Haha. It’s okay. This app is incredibly weird to navigate.

I’m good though, my mom is getting married this year and my boyfriend an I are moving to Tennessee, hopefully by the end of this month.

How are you though? I miss my Charles Xavier. :)

By the way, you should try to play some of the assassin’s creed games. I’m playing the third one right now and I’m good friends with Samuel Adams in the game. It’s pretty historically accurate actually.

eridiculous:

fedoralpolice:

when your hairdresser keeps trying to start a conversation with you

image

when people try to be friendly to their customers and get treated badly in return bc you guys seem to think it’s cute and quirky to be antisocial

bagelarms:

a lot of ppl seem confused on what cultural appropriation is so lemme break it down

IT IS NOT: enjoying food from another culture, enjoying music from another culture, learning about another culture, or learning another language

IT IS: using another culture as a costume, wearing religious articles as accessories when you are not a follower of that religion, using a race as a mascot, disrespecting religious or cultural practices. 

PW