More spam!

This time I have been approached by some truly important-sounding, very serious, and clearly 100% legit entities.

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Oh man! So glad my fund is safe and scheduled for final remittance! Thank YOU, Mr. Brian Molefe. Your obtuse banking jargon is incredibly convincing.

But what is this… an army general??? D A N G

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I am certain you will be vivid and coherent in your next message, even though honestly you haven’t been either in the current one. Also your assertion of legitimate american-ness has no effect on me, seeing as I am Not American and therefore immune to Patriotism.

toastyhat

soloontherocks:

jackthevulture:

IM SCREAMIBG WITH LAUGHTER THESE GIRLS ARE MY HEROES

SHOTS FUCKING FIRED

For anyone not familiar with how modern country sounds, these girls are calling out ACTUAL songs like making blatant references to ACTUAL lyrics from other songs on the radio.

And its fucking FLAWLESS OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING.

One of the reasons I stopped listening to country was, when I was a kid, the radio was full of songs by women and songs that talked about women like they were actual people.

Now so many of the songs dont give women a personality, just describe things about them like their legs, their lips, how they look in your truck. Its just SO much objectification.

My sister just showed me this and its ADSFHASDFKLLKFH she even said she heard it on the radio im so happy

"I aint your tan legged juliet" IM SCREECHING

I might be in love please send help

amischiefofmice

jcatgrl:

noblealice:

ugh, like there is LITERALLY no canonical evidence for the ~han solo: space womanizer~ head canon. like, when he first meets the ONE female character in the entire series that he interacts with he is GROUCHY and SHOUTY at her, not sauve and dashing. she thinks he is a tool and tells him this multiple times. not really smooth and charming.

he then takes to following her around on Hoth and practically pulling her pigtails asking ” DO YOU LIKE ME? YES/NO? (PLS SAY YES)” with hearts in his eyes. (Chewie probably had to throw out like a HALF DOZEN old notebooks that were filled with awful power ballads/poetry/odes to her and “Mr. Han Organa” written in different fonts)

when it comes to the iconic ‘i know’ in response to Leia’s proclamation of love, Ford has stated that it’s out of PURE CONCERN for HER FEELINGS (“the point is that I’m not worried about myself anymore, I’m worried about her” - DIRECT QUOTE), it was NOT a ‘boss’ move or ‘so swagtastic it hurts’ it was an apology that he couldn’t be there for her, it was an attempt to make her smile, to make it hurt less than if he had said the words too and then was forced to leave her. (not that he would have been much help; remember that han solo spends the majority of the 3rd film mostly blind and feeble, unable to take care of himself and generally getting in the way while Leia Gets Shit Done)

when he does say the words, it’s with the most adoring and awestruck expression. those words are fused with more than just love and respect. he’s almost HONOURED that he gets to love this badass babe and that she allows him to exist in her orbit.

 AND THEN he loves Leia so much that he’s willing to step aside so she can be happy with the man he believes she wants. and valuing a woman’s choices and feelings over your own is not exactly womanizing behaviour - so where did this headcanon come from??

cygnahime

urulokid:

urulokid:

poutineisdelicious:

xekstrin:

majere636:

arachnofiend:

marapetsrules:

bobfoxsky:

“You fool. No man can kill me.”

How many times am I allowed to reblog this before it gets weird?

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Fun facts: Tolkien constructed this scene because he came out of Macbeth thinking that Shakespeare had missed a golden opportunity with the ”Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn the power of man, for none of woman born shall harm Macbeth” prophecy

Being letdown by Macbeth is apparently a significant factor in Tolkien’s writing because the Ent/Huorn attack on Isengard was the result of his disappointment that the whole “til Birnam Wood come to Dunsinane” thing was just some dudes holding sticks and not actual ambulatory trees.

so he basically took his favorite shakespeare headcanons and put them into his AU fic

This revelation just knocked me over.

LET ME TELL YOU A THING ABOUT JOHN RONALD REUEL TOLKIEN. BACK THE FUCK UP SIT THE FUCK DOWN YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ANYTHING YOU’RE FUCKING JON SNOW HERE. LET ME TELL U A THING

JONNY T WAS LITERALLY THE BIGGEST FANBOY TO EVER WALK THE EARTH. LITERALLY THIS FUCKIN NERD WENT INTO WORLD WAR ONE AND WROTE NORSEFIC EDDA FANFIC IN THE TRENCHES AND SENT IT TO ALL HIS FRIENDS WHO WERE PRESUMABLY LIKE “JOHN WHAT THE FUCK”

BUT IT DOESN’T END THERE

HIS WIFE? MADE HER AND HIMSELF INTO SELF-INSERT OCS IN SAID FIC. ALSO MADE HIMSELF A TOTAL TYR SELF INSERT CHARACTER. ALL VERY DRAMATIC. KEPT WRITING THIS FIC UNTIL IT WAS HUGE. AFTER HE DIED HIS SON PUBLISHED IT AND CALLED IT THE SILMARILLION. JRR YOU FUCKIN NERD

WAIT I’M NOT FUCKING DONE YET. TREEBEARD? BASED THE WAY HE TALKED OF HIS OLD FRIEND JACK WHO YOU ALL MIGHT KNOW AS CS LEWIS. THAT’S RIGHT. THAT NARNIA MOTHERFUCKER. WROTE HIM INTO LORD OF THE RINGS AKA THE SEQUEL TO THE SEQUEL OF HIS ORIGINAL FANFIC MASTERPIECE. CS LEWIS FUCKING HATED LORD OF THE RINGS. TOLKIEN FUCKING HATED NARNIA. BASICALLY THEY STARTED THE OXFORD PROFESSOR LIVEJOURNAL CLUB AND THEY FLAMED EACH OTHER’S SHIT RELENTLESSLY YET REMAINED BFFS

SHELOB? FUCKING TARANTULA BIT J-TIDDY ON THE FOOT WHEN HE WAS LIKE 3. WROTE IT INTO LORD OF THE RINGS.

HIS AUNT’S HOUSE? NAMED BAG END. YEAH YOU GUESSED IT WROTE IT INTO LORD OF THE RINGS

THIS FUCKING DORKUS SUPREME MADE UP HIS OWN LANGUAGE. WAIT NO IM WRONG. HE MADE UP LIKE 80 LANGUAGES AND DIALECTS AND ALPHABETS AND SHIT 

BEST PART OF ALL?? HIS OWN LAST NAME, TOLKIEN, WAS DERIVED FROM THE GERMAN “TOLKHUN” MEANING “FOOLHARDY”. DOES THAT RING A BELL TO ANYONE FAMILIAR TO LORD OF THE RINGS??? BECAUSE YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT PEREGRIN “PIPPIN” TOOK’S LIKE FUCKING CATCHPHRASE WAS “FOOL OF A TOOK”. TOLKIEN FIC’D HIS OWN FAMILIAL LINGUISTIC HISTORY INTO HIS WORK WHAT A DWEEB

IN 2008 HE RANKED 6TH ON A LIST OF THE TOP 50 BRITISH WRITERS SINCE 1945. HE WAS A PROFESSOR OF LANGUAGES AND OTHER IMPORTANT STUFFY SHIT AT OXFORD

AND JRR TOLKIEN WAS THE BIGGEST DWEEB EVER TO LIVE

THE END

jumpingjacktrash

The Only Harry Potter Fanfic I Will Ever Write (Probably)

the-real-seebs:

ursulavernon:

(There was a call to make an LJ post today, so since I was thinking about how Hufflepuff gets absolutely no love the other day, you get my sorry attempts at fic.)

            “Help!” cried the very junior wizard, falling down on the doorstep of the medium-sized cottage that would someday be Hogwarts. “Help!  The giants are invading!”
            “Giants?” asked Godric Gryffindor, sticking his head out of the window. “I thought we beat those last week.”
            “These are different giants,” said the junior wizard. “Also wolves. And basilisks.”
            “Wolves and basilisks?”
            “The wolves are riding the basilisks,” said the wizard. “Look, it’s a bit of a mess, all right?” He rubbed his forehead.
            “Are they werewolves?” called Helga Hufflepuff, from inside the cottage. “I firmly believe that werewolves should be judged by their actions as individuals. This anti-lycanthropic discrimination has got to stop.”
            “They’re riding basilisks,” said Godric. “They’re probably not upstanding members of the werewolf community.”
            “Wouldn’t they have turned to stone?” asked Rowena Ravenclaw, who was sitting in an armchair with a book. She turned a page.
            “Smoked goggles,” said the junior wizard shortly. “Incidentally, I’m bleeding rather a lot.”
            “Oh, you poor dear,” said Helga, wiping her hands on her apron. “Come in and we’ll get you fixed up.”
            The junior wizard sat at the dining room table and was given cookies and a very large brandy, while the four great wizards planned their next move.
            Unfortunately, they were still not very good at working together. Godric wanted a straight charge up the middle, death-or-glory style. Rowena wanted an elaborate battle plan involving perfect timing and the movement of a great many troops they didn’t actually have. Salazar suggested they just seed the enemy’s supplies with botulism and canine distemper.
            “Cowardly!” cried Godric. But Rowena looked thoughtful. Helga tapped a fingernail on her teeth.
            In the end, it was agreed that they would simply all meet on the field of battle tomorrow, ready to fight, and see what the future held.


            In the morning, three wizards gathered on the field of battle. It was a groad, grassy bowl, bordered by hills. Giants and basilisks and werewolves wearing glasses lurked on the far side, although the werewolves were looking a little strung out by the lack of moonlight.
            Rowena was surrounded by a swirling cloud of ravens. They flapped and shrieked in harsh voices.
            “Nice,” said Salazar. “Bit goth, though.”
            “Says a man wearing a giant snake as a bandolier.”
            “That’s not goth, that’s metal. It’s different.”
            Godric was riding a griffin and was a bit annoyed that no one had mentioned how cool it was.
            “You know that thing’ll go to sleep if somebody throws a coat over its head,” said Salazar nastily.
            “Shut up,” said Godric. “You can’t ride your snake.”
            “A snake big enough to ride would need a redesigned nervous system,” said Rowena absently. “You couldn’t get the messages to the tail fast enough. Not sure the circulatory system would hold up, either, to be honest—“
            “I notice somebody hasn’t shown up,” said Salazar.
            “I’m sure Helga will be here in a minute,” said Rowena.
            “What’s she going to do, bake cookies at them?”
            “She can be the healer,” said Godric. “Healers are important.”
            Salazar rolled his eyes.
            They waited. The griffin crapped and everybody had to move upwind.
            “We should never have invited her,” said Salazar. “She can’t found a wizarding school. Her greatest ambition is to get the garden weeded before company comes over.”
            “I’ve seen some pretty lethal plant wizards,” said Godric loyally. “With…um…you know, big thorn hedge things…” He made hand gestures. Salazar looked at him like he was an idiot.
            The ravens were getting bored. They ceased swirling and landed on the grass, grumbling to each other. “Ark. Ark Ark? Ark.”
            Godric ran a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he admitted. “Maybe this isn’t really playing to Helga’s strengths. We could…errr…”
            The ground rumbled.
            The ravens took flight. The griffin squawked. Salazar’s snake constricted in a panic, and Rowena had to help him get it unwound from around his neck.
            The grassy hillside split open.
            Claws as long as a man’s thigh emerged from the earth. Clods of dirt flew as a gigantic beast emerged, shaking its head. A cloud of wet air belched over the three wizards, smelling of worms and turned earth.
            “Sorry!” called a voice from inside the cloud. “Sorry! Monty, you came up too close! You’ll trample the wrong people!””
            “Oh dear god, it’s a badger,” said Godric.
            “Dire badger, I believe,” said Rowena. “Meles dirus. I thought they were extinct…
Salazar put a hand over his eyes.
            It was the size of a house. Helga’s saddle was halfway up the creature’s back, nearly lost on that vast curve of spine. She was still wearing her apron and her gardening gloves.
The badger shook itself again, spattering them all with dirt. The black and white stripes were visible now, along with tiny reins that ran to the base of the creature’s whiskers. It was wearing goggles that appeared to have been cobbled together from ship’s portholes.
            “Good badger!” said Helga. “Who’s a good boy, then?”
            “She named the badger Monty,” said Salazar to no one in particular.
            “Sorry I’m late,” said Helga. “It was hard to get the goggles on him. But he’s such a good badger! Does a good badger want to stomp the mean giants for Mommy?”
            The dire badger gave another belching roar and waved its claws.
            “Kill me,” said Salazar to Rowena.
            “Godric would love to.”
            “I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”
            “All right,” said Godric, feeling that his authority was somewhat diminished by the fact that his very cool griffin was only about a tenth the size of Helga’s badger. “All right. Um. It’s not the size of the—“
            “Keep telling yourself that, Godric,” said Rowena.
            Monty began lumbering toward the enemy.
            “Would it be okay if we charged now?” called Helga. “I hope it’s okay! Monty’s not very good at waiting…”
            The dire badger broke into a waddling run.
            Godric spurred the griffin, because there was absolutely no glory in being left behind by a badger.
            Rowena and Salazar walked, rather more sedately, toward the enemy.
            “So, about letting her help found the school…” said Rowena.
            “I can admit when I’m wrong,” said Salazar, once Godric was out of earshot.
           “Yes, but you never do.”
           “This is me admitting that I am possibly wrong.” He adjusted his snake. “But you have to admit, you didn’t see the badger coming either.”
           “No,” said Rowena Ravenclaw, “no, the giant badger was a surprise.” She considered. “Hard work and loyalty aren’t bad principles.”
           “They’re a lot better when you’ve got a giant goddamn war-badger to back them up.”
           And none of the other founders ever questioned Helga Hufflepuff’s right to found a wizarding house ever again.

            THE END

By the power vested in me by my extreme arrogance, I hereby confirm this story as actual Harry Potter canon.