Shared posts

30 Aug 14:02

Auto-Admiration?

by Dish Staff
Sam

WHUT

by Dish Staff

Jesse Bering reviews research suggesting that not only can people accurately match dogs’ faces to their owners, but also that “our faces also bear an uncanny resemblance to the frontend views of our automobiles.” Participants in a study were given a picture of a car and asked to rank its possible owners on a scale of 1 to 6:

[T]he authors suspected that the judges in their study would be able to match cars dish_carfaces3 with their correct owners above chance levels. And that’s what they found. “The real owner was in fact assigned rank 1 most frequently,” they write, “and rank 6 least frequently.” This proved true regardless of the subjects’ sex and age. There were an equal number of male and female judges, and they ranged widely in age—from 16 to 78 years. In case the sheer bizarreness of these data hasn’t quite registered, let me put it to you more bluntly: The average person can detect a physical similarity in the “faces” of cars and their owners. …

Implied in these results is the startling fact that most car owners are unwittingly purchasing cars that look like them. If that’s the case, figured [researchers Stefan] Stiegar and [Martin] Voracek, then is it possible that judges can even take it one step further, matching dogs to their masters’ cars? After all, we know now that it’s not a myth: dogs really do look like their owners. And since we choose both cars and dogs that physically resemble us, shouldn’t our dogs and our cars look alike too? Here, frankly, the data just get weird. Nevertheless, they’re genuine. In their third and final study, the authors added 36 portraits of dogs into the mix. Half of these were of purebreds, and the others were mutts. In a twist to the previous studies, a new group of judges saw an image of a car (again, either the front, side, or rear view) and beneath that, six individual dogs. Subjects ranked each dog on the likelihood of its master being the owner of the car shown. Amazingly, the participants were able to pull this feat off as well.

Meanwhile, Laura Bliss considers the oddly human attachments people form to their vehicles:

To many of us, [cars] are beloved, person-like companions. More than 70 percent of respondents to a recent AutoTrader survey were at least “somewhat” if not “very attached” to their cars, with 36 percent describing their vehicle as “an old friend.” In another study, nearly half of all drivers assigned a gender to their cars, and about one-third actually name them.

For many car-owners, emotional attachment can also come hand-in-hand with socio-economic mobility. For example, there’s research that suggests for certain low-income families, owning a car is linked to the ability to live in neighborhoods with lower poverty rates and lower health risks, as well as higher neighborhood satisfaction and stronger chances of employment.

Car-owners often assign human-like attributes to our cars, too. A 2006 study found significant differences between how participants understood their own personality and how they described their cars’. And in that same AutoTrader report, more than a quarter said they felt “sad” when they thought about parting ways with their internally combusting pal.

27 Aug 18:00

Dad Has Blackmail Material for a Lifetime After Catching His Daughter Making Selfie Faces

Submitted by: (via Rumble Viral)

Tagged: dad , selfie , Video , failbook , g rated
15 Aug 00:20

The Child - 2.01

by ajlobster
Sam

1) Yesss this episode. Such a classic.
2) "Thank Goodness for Guinan, Mondays at 9/8c, this fall on ABC" Why are we not already watching this
3) That should be the ONLY permissible way to announce your pregnancy on FB.

This is the one where Troi gets pregnant. How? Well, when a tiny beam of sperm-shaped light and a woman love each other very, very much:

image

"Dat ass" - this lightsperm

…the lightsperm travels into any nearby spaceship and impregnates a half-human, half-Betazoid woman…somehow. It’s never made THAT clear how this works. And you know why?

image

"Special" my ass

Because this is the new ship’s doctor!!! Uggggghhhhh.

image

I’m Feather Mullet and I’m here to say / I’m super stupid in a stupid way

I just love Bev so much that I cannot abide any interloper, ESPECIALLY one who looks like AC Slater is in disguise as my Aunt Mary.

Anyway, there’s not a whole lot going on fashion-wise here, so thank goodness for Guinan.

image

Thank Goodness for Guinan, Mondays at 9/8c, this fall on ABC

Without that platter hat and this electric purple drapery, we wouldn’t have anything. Thank you, Guinan. Thuinan.

Troi is like “I feel weird” and Pulaski is like “uhhhhh, you’re pregs??”

image

"I need to see the fetus as LARGE AS POSSIBLE"

If I was planning to have children, this is how I would announce their birth on Facebook, except with my own face Photoshopped over Pulaski’s.

Deanna reacts as any woman would - with this “WHAAAAAA” face and with a LOT of blush:

image

Captain, I can’t add any more blush. I CAN’T.

Her makeup is too 80s for the 80s. She’s ringing in the 90s with a BOLD lip and a STRONG brow.

Her pregnancy progresses HELLA quickly, so we get to see her on the bridge in this kicky maternity outfit:

image

A pea in the pod on the bridge

Deanna’s beloved Bold Box color palette is in full effect here, with a dusty teal that fell straight out of County Seat and into our hearts:

image

You can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can’t take the girl out of jersey (knit fabrics)

My main question is: why isn’t Deanna wearing this ALWAYS? THIS SHIT LOOKS SO COMFY. You know I love a jumpsuit but if I had to choose, it would be this bathrobe and gown combo every day.

image

Data, get the FUCK away from me

However, it appears that she’s wearing a top made of one of those blankets they hang up in rehearsal studios to prevent the sound from leaking out. SHOUT OUT TO PEOPLE WHO UNDERSTAND THAT REFERENCE.

Okay, so now it’s time for the baby to be born. It gets graphic, y’all.

image

#BABBYBUTTS

This baby looks really clean. Also, wise:

image

The secrets of the universe are contained within my fontanelle

We go VERY quickly from that baby up there to this little scamp down here:

image

That’s a wig

Good to know that on the Enterprise, young men are started down the ugly sweater path early and often. 

Ian (Troi named the boy after her pops) goes to Enterprise School, which appears to consist of:

image

PUPPPPPIIIIIIEEEEEEESSSSSS

I have a lot of questions about these puppies.

1. Were they born on the Enterprise?

2. Does that mean there is a mama dog on the Enterprise?

3. If they were NOT born on the Enterprise, where did they come from?

4. Did they come from the replicator?

5. CAN I HAVE A PUPPY REPLICATOR?

6. Are there ethical considerations about a puppy replicator?

7. Fuck ethics, I want a puppy replicator.

In conclusion,

image

WAS I REPLICATED??? TELL ME, SARAH MCLACHLAN

Ian, who is now several years older than the last time we saw him, is wearing a beige nightmare.

image

I literally had a nightmare about that garment

Everyone is like “wow so weird that he’s growing so fast” but no one is THAT concerned except Worf, but of course everyone dismisses his VERY REAL SECURITY CONCERNS in favor of Troi’s cute kid.

Also, what is this kid learning/wearing:

image

Geometry lessons get WAY better when you’re on acid

I can’t see the print on his arms that well, but I feel confident in saying that I like it.

image

His pained expression is due to his beige catastrophe

BTW, this whole time, a PLAGUE specimen has been traveling on the ship as well. These are the safety precautions taken to protect the crew from the plague:

image

It’s called a Ziploc hat and it’s VERY in right now

You know that guy from a Wes Anderson movie. Look, here he is again:

image

MY MUSTACHE SENSES TROUBLE

I am seriously digging his California Casual hair.

Meanwhile, in Ten Forward, this person is wearing the letter Y:

image

As in, Y would U wear that

I do like that green.

Wesley is consulting with Guinan about his future while she wears a relatively subdued look:

image

Guinan, space nun

You know it’s serious because she has two collars.

So the end of this is that little Ian gets sick and DIES except not REALLY because he was never really the half human/half Betazoid creature we thought he was, he was just an alien who wanted to LEARN in disguise. It’s still pretty sad but also kind of funny:

image

I don’t feel well

image

I think I have disco fever

image

Please don’t go, my lightbaby

image

Bless you, lightsperm. Blightsperm.

In conclusion,

image

PUPPY REPLICATORS FOR EVERYONE.

image

06 Aug 14:00

A Day In The Life Of A Femme Fatale

by Mallory Ortberg
Sam

Mrs. Dalloway said she would murder her sister herself.

ff10

Previously in this series: A day in the life of Seth MacFarlane, normal human male.

He bent down with a match crooked in his right hand. She pulled back, waving him off.

“It’s an electronic cigarette,” she said by way of explanation. “It stays lit all day.”

“Just like me,” he said, downing a gin.

She smiled, but she didn’t laugh. It wasn’t the sort of joke you laughed at, exactly. Funny, but a little too on-the-nose.

ff7

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said. “Just have to powder my little girl’s room while I freshen up.”

“Sure thing, baby.” He took his hat off.

“Incidentally,” she purred, sticking her head back around the corner, “what’s the wi-fi password here, darling? I need to check something.”

Cats purred. Cats scratched, too.

“That network is locked,” he said.

“That’s not the only thing that’s locked around here,” she said, and disappeared.

ff5

The doorbell rang. Christ. Had she been sleeping?

“Who is it?” she said in her regular voice, then cursed herself inwardly. “Who’s there?” she called out in her softest, most dangerous voice, the one that mixed poison and honey in her throat.

“It’s me, baby. Open up.”

“Just a minute,” she said. Had she shaved her legs? You couldn’t ask a man to commit a murder for you with stubble on your legs. Men only killed for smooth women; they’d drilled that into her on Day One at Dame Academy. One thing was for sure: this wasn’t going to be repeat of Shanghai, when that quick-talking gunsel had slipped through her fingers just because no one had been willing to tell her she had lipstick on her teeth when she tried to flash a heavy-lidded, catlike smile at the mark.

Dame Academy hadn’t even wanted to take her at first. “Her legs are too short,” the Headmistress had said dismissively, before lighting a series of cigarettes with the heel of her shoe and tossing her Veronica Lake curls into a silver basin. “Try the secretarial pool.”

“But they go all the way to the top,” she’d said, crossing her legs so her hemline slid just above the knee, revealing four flasks, a pearl-handled revolver, and a couple of knives with different names carved into the handle.

Headmistress had smiled at that. “So, there’s some cat underneath that mouse after all.”

ff9

“Come in,” she said. “I’m very helpless.” She crossed her legs. Fuck. She still hadn’t shaved. Headmistress would have pulled off her manicure if she could see her now. Sleep with your makeup on, girls. You never know who’ll come breaking and entering. She dove out the window. Nothing to do for it but leave town and start a new life, with new legs, somewhere else.

ff2

“I follow my own code,” he said.

She sipped her drink. “I follow a lot of things.”

He looked puzzled. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. That sounded more suggestive in my head. I just…we’ve been bantering for hours. I’m sorry. I’m so tired. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

He still looked puzzled.

“I’m trying to suggest that I’m sexually available,” she said. “But in a vague, plausibly deniable sort of way.”

“Fair enough,” he said.

She put down her drink. Enough was enough. She’d just murder her sister herself.

Read more A Day In The Life Of A Femme Fatale at The Toast.

11 Aug 11:00

These are my tavorite places to rockn’a’ roll.

by engrishwebmaster
Sam

This is a masterpiece. I'm stuck trying to figure out where "Never Work" is...

I can’t believe they missed Chicogo…

Photo courtesy of Cathy.
Found on an exchange student in the U.S. from Taiwan.  

07 Aug 19:44

G-G the book - G-G on Facebook - G-G on Twitter

28 Jul 14:00

How To Maintain Control Of The Shared Armrest: A Guide For Women Flying Alone

by Mallory Ortberg

armrestFirst of all, no one gets the personal space they deserve on a plane. Accept that right off the bat; do not sink into pity for your seatmate if he is 6’7 and convince yourself that he merits the armrest between the two of you. You are on a plane; you are bound now only by Skylaw. The rules of God and man no longer apply. Wring mercy clean from your heart. I promise that he has none in his heart for you.

Do not hope that he will notice your uncomfortable position and cede you your fair share of the armrest. In the history of time, no man has ever silently anticipated the needs of a woman. (BROAD GENERALIZATION) As surely as your father will never notice of his own volition if the dishwasher is full and start unloading the clean silverware without prompting, no male flier will ever say, “Oh, were you using that?” and gently withdraw his meaty pincer. You are your own champion today, sister. It is a feminist victory whenever a woman makes it through a flight without losing the majority of the shared armrest to the man sitting next to her.

It is possible, perhaps, that once or twice in human history two women who are strangers to one another are seated together. Stranger things have happened. But in all my life, whenever I have traveled solo, I have always been seated next to a man, each one dudelier and more prone to sprawling than the last. I offer my poor wisdom that I might save you from the pain I have endured.

Men are forbidden from using this knowledge. Please do not read the following. I will hold you to an honor system.

1. Make up your mind as soon as you board the aircraft that you will not give up. None of this effort will be worth it if you cede an inch. He will claim immediate victory and you will have uncomfortably rubbed triceps with a man whose name you do not know for a quarter of an hour, and for nothing. This is as much a mental contest as it is physical.

2. Board the plane before him. Do not wait idly by as the rest of seating group 2 clusters around the pre-boarding area. Get in there. Jostle some motherfuckers.

3. Fly clean. One bag that fits in the overhead compartment without having to force it in, and one handbag. No long straps, no smaller plastic bags full of purchases and tchotchkes stuffed illegally within. Travel light; you will require swiftness.

4. You must be seated, with both arms prominently and dominantly splayed across the armrests, when your traveling companion stops in front of you and says “Oh, I think I’m in __D.”

5. The next step is crucialdo not get up to let him in. Tilt your knees to the side and hug them to your chest. Make no apologies for this clear flouting of the social contract. If your size or his will not permit such a maneuver, exit your row as quickly as possible and re-seat yourself while he is still getting situated, then re-claim the armrest.

6. Mark the territory with your menstrual blood.

7. At this point, unless your forearm is large enough to cover the entire armrest, he will attempt to place his own arm against yours. You may choose to allow this, but make sure your elbow is always further back than his, in the dominant position.

8. Cede nothing. Reach for your bag with your outside arm. Move your armrest hand at your own peril. If he shifts, shift with him. If he reclines his seat back, slide your elbow further into the crevice between your seats. To abandon your position for even an instant would mean instant loss of hard-fought territory. Play the long game, and play to win. I promise you that he will not let the social discomfort of touching a stranger’s bare arm keep him from trying to wrestle the armrest from you. Abandon your sense of personal space.

9. If you are in an aisle seat, intercept his meal as the flight attendant hands it to you. Eat it in front of him, screaming continuously.

10. Remember the lessons of the Somme: Grind them down wherever you can, sisters. On planes and on subways and wherever humans jostle with one another for territory. That small metal platform is your birthright. Treat it like the Weimar Republic treated Alsace-Lorraine.

Read more How To Maintain Control Of The Shared Armrest: A Guide For Women Flying Alone at The Toast.

31 Jul 15:00

Bet He's Looking at Stars or Some Dumb Crap Like That

Sam

what a Dumbass nerd

29 Jul 15:59

The long and the short of it...

And on the fourth attempt at fitting “camembert” on the tiny chalkboard, Gary calmly set down the board and chalk, threw the easel across the room, and went for a long drive.

30 Jul 00:00

New

The nice thing about headcannnons is that it's really easy to get other people to believe in them.
28 Jul 22:55

Maisie Williams in Ryan Jude Novelline at the EW’s 2014 Comic-Con Celebration

by Tom and Lorenzo
Sam

It's Arya Stark at ComicCon wearing a dress made out of graphic novels. Your "too much dress for her" argument is invalid.

Maisie Williams attends Entertainment Weekly’s 2014 Comic-Con Celebration in San Diego, California wearing Ryan Jude Novelline “ZAM!” dress made entirely out of recycled graphic novels.           Photo Credit: INFphoto.com, Getty Images
24 Jul 19:58

Mellow Yellow

by awkward

Go ahead. Get married, suckers.

(submitted by Lynsay)

Go ahead. Get married, suckers.

(submitted by Lynsay)

21 May 13:45

Tiny Baby Goat Takes First Steps With Tiny Baby Goat Wheelchair

by Jia Tolentino
by Jia Tolentino


Via Modern Farmer, please meet Frosty: a perfect little creature who was born with a condition that filled his back legs with terrible baby goat poison ("pus and toxins," according to the video), immobilizing him until the good hearts at Edgar's Mission equipped him with the most ballin' tiny wheelchair in the world. From the Australian animal sanctuary's about page:

Edgar’s Mission was founded by Pam Ahern and named after her first rescued pig, Edgar. Edgar Alan Pig, aka “the pig who started it all” sadly passed away shortly after his 7th birthday party in April 2010.

EDGAR ALAN PIG. They've got pictures and biographies for many of their rescued animals, including another wheelchair boss, a piglet named Leon Trotsky. And on a related note, Aeon's got a piece up right now about why we like looking at animals so much.

4 Comments
21 Jul 19:40

Samantha & Andrew, chesapeake bay beach club wedding

by carmenwangphotography
Sam

Yaaayyyy soon!!

We recently had the pleasure of photographing Samantha and Andrew’s beautiful wedding at the Chesapeake Bay Beach Club (Sunset Ballroom).  Everything about their wedding day screamed elegance and every detail made their day perfectly amazing and memorable.  You really got a sense of how special the relationship that they shared is.  Sam and Andrew,  thank you so much for allowing me to capture your big day!

Our first wedding at Chesapeake Bay Beach Club and we are so impressed by this beautiful venue.  The Sunset Ballroom is a spacious venue on the water with private beach and features all the charm and elegance of a classic New England style ballroom.  The westward facing wall of windows captures bay scenery, dramatic sunsets and an abundance of natural light.   It also features a stunning Garden Room with a large canopied Rooftop Deck, which is perfect for wedding ceremony.  The staff are so friendly and professional (special thanks to Erin).  Sam and Andrew’s choice of Chesapeake Bay Beach Club has really made their wedding so memorable.

18 Jul 13:39

“She was of the stuff of which great men’s mothers are made. She...



“She was of the stuff of which great men’s mothers are made. She was indispensable to high generation, hated at tea parties, feared in shops, and loved at crises.”
—Thomas Hardy, Far from the Madding Crowd

17 Jul 23:00

Some of You Might Not Even Know What This Felt Like

10 Jul 18:30

Steven Spielberg Criticized for the "Triceratops He Just Slaughtered"

Steven Spielberg Criticized for the "Triceratops He Just Slaughtered"

It's not uncommon for a poacher or hunter to receive harsh criticism and public shaming, but does it count when the animal in question goes WAY beyond the endangered species list?

Click here for a larger view of the top image and here for a larger view of the bottom image.

poacher spielberg

Submitted by: (via Dangerous Minds)

19 Jun 14:30

An Important Update on Frosty, the Tiny Baby Goat with the Tiny Baby Goat Wheelchair

by Emma Carmichael
Sam

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

by Emma Carmichael


Frosty, the Tiny Baby Goat with the Tiny Baby Goat Wheelchair, is now prancing around on his healed Tiny Baby Goat legs sans the Tiny Baby Goat Wheelchair. "It just goes to show," Edgar's Mission founder Pam Ahern says in the video above, "when you really are determined, there really isn't any mountain high enough to stop you." Pam, you're laying it on pretty thick this morning, and I'm OK with that. [HuffPo]

1 Comments
13 Jun 16:20

WHEN SOMEONE ASKS IF I WILL GRADUATE ON TIME

12 Jun 17:05

"A pink backpack set atop the feline resembles sliced raw fish"

by Emma Carmichael
by Emma Carmichael

Uhhhhh?"Japanese company Tange & Nakimushi Peanuts have composed ‘neko-sushi’, a photographic series of posters and postcards which unite cats and sushi": I have some ethical questions about this project, but the captions ("the playful scene transforms the red ping pong paddle into a piece of tuna") are top-notch. [Design Boom]

1 Comments
18 May 03:32

For you crazy kids that are still up… a gift. Or is that...



For you crazy kids that are still up… a gift. Or is that GIFt?

(thanks to Will Glover for the idea!)

30 Apr 00:20

WHENEVER SOMEONE ASKS ME HOW GRAD SCHOOL IS GOING

credit: Alan

30 Apr 00:00

Morse Code

Sam

LJ4EVA

Oh, because Facebook has worked out SO WELL for everyone.
17 Apr 13:30

This is Your Game of Thrones Thread

by Nicole Cliffe
Sam

This gif, for ever and ever.

1. DUDE. That fuuuuuuuuucking creepy lil Hobbit dude and what he’s made ol’ goiter-face Theon into!

2. Look, if you’re ever in, like, great peril in a circumstance which generally involves a lot of court intrigue, and the dude who obviously loves you sends you away in tears while pretending he doesn’t love you anymore, say “I get it. No hard feelings.”

3. I know Melisandre is terrifying, but, tbh, the Lord of Light is the only deity we are super-sure really exists and gets the job done, maybe we should all worship him? I guess there’s the funky-looking tree with the red leaves, but that’s not exactly up there with pushing smoke people out of your vag with the power to operate weapons.

4. There should be more being-hand-fed-fruit-while-giving-suggestive-glances-to-third-parties in all our lives. Let’s work on that!

5. Oh, right. RIP SWEEEEEEET KING JOFFREY MAY FLIGHTS OF ANGELS EAT YOUR GENITALS AND URINATE IN YOUR MOUTH.

Cliffe OUT, may this show never end, may it go on for thousands of years, and do not complain about Twitter spoilers, the books are a couple of bucks used and are written at a sixth-grade reading level if you are so into GoT that you get palpitations about hearing stuff while using the internet like a grownup fortunate enough to be born into the age of the internet. I set an alarm for five am to watch it before my kid woke up because I take responsibility for my LIFE.

tumblr_inline_mok8wkx7ru1qz4rgp

Read more This is Your Game of Thrones Thread at The Toast.

17 Apr 18:50

Narrator: And although the intervention didn’t...

Sam

Been waiting for this one!



Narrator: And although the intervention didn’t work…it turned into one of the Bluth family’s better parties.

Spring Breakout - 2x17

17 Apr 13:40

SEVEN YOUNG LADIES STAND BEFORE ME … BUT I ONLY HAVE SIX PHOTOS...



SEVEN YOUNG LADIES STAND BEFORE ME … BUT I ONLY HAVE SIX PHOTOS IN MY HANDS.

AND THESE PHOTOS … REPRESENT THE GIRLS … WHO ARE STILL IN THE RUNNING TOWARD BECOMING … AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL.

I’M KIDDING, OBVIOUSLY. NONE OF YOU ARE TALL ENOUGH FOR RUNWAY WORK, PLUS I DON’T HAVE HANDS. NOW GET OUT OF HERE AND GO PLAY IN THE YARD. I NEED TO TAKE A LITTLE NAP.

14 Apr 21:51

Did somebody say… WONDER?



Did somebody say… WONDER?

08 Apr 20:00

The "Real" Rosie the Riveters

by Emma Carmichael
by Emma Carmichael

I come across these "real" Rosie the Riveter photos from the Library of Congress on Flickr about once a week, and I'm almost always tempted to use them in every Hairpin post, regardless of the topic—but now I don't even have to, because they're all in one place, thanks to Stuff Mom Never Told You.

1 Comments
31 Mar 19:00

Just A Normal Teen: My Best-Selling YA Novel

by Mallory Ortberg

train2Previously: It’s a bunch of years after The War and everything is different.

It was the first day of school and the last day of my sixteenth year. It was also the last day before everything changed, which made tomorrow the first day that everything was different, and also my birthday. Nothing ever changes in this town, until the day everything changed for good. I’ve lived in this town my whole life, and everything’s always been the same, only it turns out that everything I thought was normal wasn’t normal at all, not even me. I’m just a regular kid, or am I.

I’d been having those dreams again. The dreams that started after my parents’ accident, and then went away for a long time, but now they’re back, and this time there’s a girl in them.

“I’ve been having those dreams again,” I told my mother-figure, who was my aunt or my nanny or my Amma or Auntie Rose or something who’s always lived with us since my mom died in that accident, or what I thought was an accident until today. “There’s a girl in them.” She made me eat fifteen pancakes.

“Your room is too messy,” she said lovingly, then made me a thousand more pancakes. She did it for free because she loves me a lot and she doesn’t need a job. “Keep that music down!” I smiled but I didn’t turn the music down, because we have that kind of a relationship where she understands.

My best friend from always picked me up in his beat-up old truck he’s always fixing but never really fixed. “Man, nothing sure ever changes in this town,” he said, “and I’m in a comically lousy band that never gets any better no matter how hard we practice.”

“Oh for sure,” I agreed.

The girl from my dream was at school now, in a real human body, and we had class together, and we were lab partners in it, and we had a mystical connection. Her eyes were green in a really specific way. Other people’s eyes are green sometimes, but not like the way her eyes were green.

Her hair smelled good, like some kind of fruit and also one kind of herb. “Your hair smells good, like some kind of fruit and also one kind of herb,” I told her.

“Thanks,” she said. “I washed it.”

It’s really hard for me to trust people,” I said.

“Me too,” she said.

“Want to trust me, though?” I asked.

“Okay,” she said.

“Do you want to go to that one place all the teens in town usually go,” my best friend asked me after school. “Not today,” I told him. “Today is different.”

“I met that girl today,” I told my aunt-mom later that afternoon. “She’s real.” My aunt-mom sighed. “I guess it’s time we finally told you the truth.” She finally told me the truth, and I had to spend some time accepting it. It changed everything I thought I knew. Who could I even trust now?

“The locket I’ve had ever since I was a baby?” I said, wearing my favorite pair of beat-up Converse sneakers. “But what does that have to do with the prophecy?” It turns out, pretty much everything.

“But I don’t have any cousins,” I said. My dad, who I thought had just given up on life after my mom died but it turns out was actually protecting me from a terrible secret, shook his head. “You have more cousins than you could possibly have imagined, and they’re all terrible. You come from a long line of terrible, magical people.”

“But I’m just a regular teen,” I cried. “My room is messy and I like cereal.”

“Blue for fate and turned too late,” said the sexy witch, and then I passed out for a while, from the magic, because I’m just a regular teen and I’m really not used to this kind of thing. It’s hard to believe that just an hour ago I still cared about things like tests and bands and human problems.

“Let’s fight the thing together,” said my best friend, who found out about all the magic prophecy stuff even later than I did but was remarkably laid-back about it. His name was Colin, if I forgot to mention that before.

“Are you sure?” I asked. This wasn’t really his battle.

“Yeah,” he said, and then he sacrificed himself for me in a really understated way.

“You have two choices, and they’re both terrible,” the sexy witch told that girl who was my lab partner and in my dreams sometimes whose name it turned out was Elena and she’s my girlfriend now.

“No, I don’t, I have a million choices, and they’re all mine,” Elena said, and I was so proud of her, and then she picked a third thing to do that I didn’t even realize was a choice and she totally blew their false choices out of the water.

Finally Elena was safe and things were back to normal. It had already been a year since all the things started happening. “I’d sure like it if things stayed boring around here for a little while,” I said, kind of laughing but also kind of meaning it. Tomorrow I’d be eighteen. “What’s on the porch,” I said, “another prophecy?” It was.

The second prophecy was even more intense than the first one, and introduced a lot of new rules I didn’t even know existed, but everyone else seemed to kind of already know about them. But you know what? We’re a misfit band of teens who will do anything for each other now, like stand up to that town bully who’s not even scary to us anymore, now that we’ve faced pure evil and lived.

Sure, we’re a little strange. Elena’s a cursed half-Morgana. Colin’s lost his legs, but not his sense of humor. Me I’m just a regular teen. But I wouldn’t have things any other way.

Things were going to keep happening to us for at least three books and four movies, but at least we’d realized we were a family now.

Read more Just A Normal Teen: My Best-Selling YA Novel at The Toast.

24 Mar 16:45

A Butt Load Means 491 Liters

by Jia Tolentino
Sam

Just in case you want to be technical about it.

by Jia Tolentino

Asks Merriam-Webster:

Well, the quote is "Kobe, how my ass taste?" and I read it in the New Yorker, if such a thing is to be believed. But now I am even more shocked by the fact that I did not know the official liquid capacity of one of these "butts," which according to 14th-century booze makers was:

A measure equal to 108 imperial gallons (491 liters).

So every time I have used "butt load" in my life I have been not just crass but exaggerating.

3 Comments