Mine was in another tongue, likely to point out that no, it’s just someone devoting a tremendous amount of time to the exercise.

Good for you.

It’s nice to have repetitive, monotonous hobbies.

afanofmanystuffs:

simonalkenmayer:

simonalkenmayer:

Me: Isn’t Sweetie an evil cat who talks?

Spawn: NO! She’s a dog.

Me: What? What sort of dog is she?

Spawn: A mean dog that messes up everything!

Me: *searches google, though through a war between the new and terrible iPhone update and the auto-correct that is rubbish, accidentally discovers something that cannot be unseen*

(https://m.fanfiction.net/s/11910034/1/Wet)

Me: What the fuck is this?

Spawn: Is it Paw Patrol!!!

Me: I don’t know what this is, but I’d like to pretend it never happened.

For reference…Sweetie is a west Highland Terrier.

Horrors of Fanfiction is my favorite game to play with my friends!

Are your friends tiny people younger than 6 or sentient sexually active dogs?

instructor144:

afanofmanystuffs:

simonalkenmayer:

n. The habit of constantly belittling the accomplishments of others or to think them worthless or incapable.

Yes, it’s a real word. It began appearing in the 1700′s. Though it has been used in the contemporary, recently.

Example: I avoid him at parties because of his constant floccinaucinihilipilification of the staff and other guests. He could make a Nobel laureate feel like a child on a playground.

@instructor144 your fancy pants word of the day

Whoa. This is the new supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

Except that it’s a real word! The third longest, possibly

what-even-is-a-sideblog:

simonalkenmayer:

n. The habit of constantly belittling the accomplishments of others or to think them worthless or incapable.

Yes, it’s a real word. It began appearing in the 1700′s. Though it has been used in the contemporary, recently.

Example: I avoid him at parties because of his constant floccinaucinihilipilification of the staff and other guests. He could make a Nobel laureate feel like a child on a playground.

How in the world do you pronounce this

Floccinaucinihilipilification

Flox-in-awsin-ihill-ipill-if-ication

simonalkenmayer:

Poetry

I don’t think people realize how tedious it is, to constantly sketch yourself for them with their tools, and then sit patiently while they criticize the image, the hand that assembled it, the techniques that hand employed.

It’s the only way I have to express what I am, these words you invented and these concepts you fervently believe despite logic. That’s all I have. I sit here and use them, sometimes bluntly, sometimes cleverly, to paint myself in a way you can conceive of as fitting, as indelible, as something that has always been here whether or not you noticed. I use your tools, so that you can comprehend me, but by using them, I am allowing you to find commonality with me.

Secretly, I am using these brushes and chisels to destroy them – these tools you made – because I’m utterly dissatisfied with their utility and how they feel in my hands. I can no more craft myself as beautiful as I am with these, than you can see the smells of the breeze, or hear the horror of the human body as it dies.

We are not alike, but even as I sculpt myself differently, I am making us the same, because my form is carved by your tools, I live between your boundaries, and I exist within your shades.

But you come to me and ask for poetry.

I will set these tools down if you ask for that. I don’t exist to paint your world for you in your ways, with your colors, for your pleasure.

There is no poetry here for you.

theangriestlittleunicorn:

simonalkenmayer:

The skin seals around it and heals. The difficulty is that it’s a give and take as to whether or not it will swallow the ring. I just settle with piercing my ears manually, whenever I feel like wearing my earrings.

Okay, but ouch!

Pain of that sort doesn’t bother me at all.