I. Cannot. Stop. Staring. I feel like I should laugh or cry, but I just can’t.](http://29.media.tumblr.com/PwCIEKd8NomnlwwnyhcusroBo1_500.jpg)
Comfort Wipe, The Official Site, As Seen On TV
[my god - in the immortal words of future Bart Simpson, “I wash muhself with a rag on a stick…”](m)
I. Cannot. Stop. Staring. I feel like I should laugh or cry, but I just can’t.
1.) Your face is the most unique creation I’ve ever seen. I love every expression you can spread across your features. They’re so sincere.
I love this shot of Obama meeting with aides in Paris. This is what real people look like when they’re working, talking. One guy is even wearing flip-flops.
My president sits on outdoor stairs. Outside. On the ground. This is beautiful.
![Just a friendly reminder. :]](http://29.media.tumblr.com/JTfracx9Folbb8ov9GLZ2IFXo1_500.jpg)
Accidental photo of the author of this masterpiece:
You feel your pulse quicken and muscles grow taut as you slowly bring your head down to stare at the slip of paper you’ve just been handed. This type isn’t like any you’ve taken before, and you freeze at the sight of strange lines of all lengths intercepting one another. Your head starts spinning; you’ve never done anything like this before! What kind of test was this, anyway? You glance at the top, and it says in bold lettering: Pre-algebra and geometry: Test 1.
“Okay, okay,” you mutter to yourself, “so I’m in the right class. But since when has math had all of these stupid triangles in it? I can do the first ones with exponents and foiling…”
Tackling the first half of the test was cake. “Well,” you think, “at least I’m going to get half of the credit on this test…” You continue on to the bottom, and you read the directions:
All of the following problems have right triangles with the lengths of two sides given. Find x, the length of the third side, using the lengths provided in each problem.
“Come on, come on… How am I supposed to find out the lengths of the sides of the triangle! This doesn’t make any sense! I can’t just make these up! I shouldn’t have slept in class the last few days!” But then, in a flash of brilliance culminating with the greatest ‘Ah ha!’ moment of your life; you remember something odd you heard in class two days ago: a squared plus b squared equals c squared. It all makes sense now! It’s plug-and-chug, and you’re good to go!
(via blogsecret)
Hah. And they would probably wouldn’t like you as much, either BB.
I’ll be keeping track of my thoughts on Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris here so that when I finish the book, I’ll have some ideas as to what I should write my essay on. What recent high school graduate does a voluntary study journal? The neurotic sort who has recently been English-starved.
“Though it probably has its moments, the average day spent in hiding is bound to beat the average day spent in prison.”
Literally, yes. Metaphorically, no. If he were being literal, I would just look over this without thinking another thought conversly to this simple statement. Metaphorically, getting ‘caught’ is not as bad as the fear and the waiting that claw at your back while you’re just trying to exist. (Boring essay with no facts or evidence, just simply opinion. Not good for my needs.)
“To this day, I prefer to believe that inside every television there lives a community of versatile, thumb-size actors trained to portray everything from a thoughtful newscaster to the wife of a millionaire stranded on a desert island.”
YES YES YES. I remember when life was magical and full of wonder. Science and discovery and learning have just ruined my appreciation for everything from trees to wind to pasteries to sentence structure. Knowledge is good, but too much knowledge appears to suck the life out of some, licking their bones clean. (This probably would be a bad thesis for my essay for the Honors College.)
” ‘I’m thinking of parcelling off portions of my brain,’ I once told her. ‘I’m not talking about having anything surgically removed, I’d just like to divide it into lots and lease it out so that people could say, “I’ve got a house in Raleigh, a cottage in Myrtle Beach, and a little hideaway inside a visionary’s head.”’ “
We all sell parts of our brains to people, places, ideas, thoughts, dreams. It’s sort of ridiculous to think about. Who or what owns most of my brain? What owns your brain? I think this is an idea that does not seem very profitable, but it is certainly laughable and cute, but more importantly, it makes me evaluate my thoughts.
“The art world was our conceptual oyster, and we ate it raw.”
This just makes me want to say, “FUCKYEAH SEAKING!” but not much else. I could expand upon this, but it would dissolve to a bitchy titter in about twelve seconds.
“As a leader, it was his fate to be punished for having the very qualities we admired in the first place.”
“If the piece failed to work, it was their fault, not yours.”
“This is a new and brighter world, in which I am free to hurry along, celebrating my remarkable ability to walk, to run.”
Things to remember.
(via thismightsuck)
I thought this would be much, much cooler in person. However, there are many leaning, functional buildings in Italy, and this leaning tower was such a disappointment.
What is it they say about forehead wrinkles? The more you have, the more intelligent you are? Or is it something short and sweet about sun damage and worrying?
