le coup de foudre

paul hollywood simply does NOT get it

Hello would you like to hear something a bit funny

For Easter, my sister and I bought our dear mother a really massive Easter egg. It big. It a big boy. We bought it for her because it looked nice and she likes chocolate, as she is a human being with functional tastebuds, and we thought no more of it. What a wonderful gift, we told ourselves. What good daughters are we.

It is now over a month later, and mum still hasn’t finished it. Every time I go downstairs, she’s sat scooping it into her mouth. She hates it. She resents it. It’s the worst part of her life. She wants it to be over, but doesn’t want to admit defeat. She won’t throw it away. It’s not going to beat her like that. It’s going to be digested. Every atom of that infernal egg must be consumed. And I did this to her. It was I who ruined her. Me. And also my twin, but she lives in England, so I must bear the brunt of her ire.

Which means that my mum has now started to try and force me to help her eat it. It started with emotional blackmail. “If you loved me, you’d help me.” “If you want me to pick you up from work tomorrow, you’d help me.” “If you want to live to see tomorrow’, you’ll help me.” And then it progressed to her literally pummeling me with shards of Easter egg. I would be sitting in the living room, minding my own business, and then I would feel the tell-tale thud of a half-melted piece of chocolate hitting me on the shoulder. “A gift,” she would say. I knew better than that. This was no gift. This was rage. This Trojan horse I gave to my own mother; betrayal has seeped out of it and now it cannot be contained.

And now she has gone a step further, and keeps secreting bits of Easter egg about my possessions. First, she found the lunch I’d made myself for work the next day, and she filled my lunchbox with Easter egg. Fine, I thought, at least that way I have an afternoon snack. Point to no-one, mother; there is no victory here. And then she started to wait until I made myself a cup of tea, and whenever I left the room to do something else, she would surround the half-drunk cup of tea with Easter egg, so that I couldn’t pick up the mug again without noticing the little flowerbed of passive aggression she’d planted around it.

And then today, I came to work and opened up my laptop case, and she has done it. She has taken a plastic sandwich bag and filled it with Easter egg and hidden it inside my laptop case. It’s all melty from the residual heat of the laptop charger. It’s coating my fingertips in a molten, sticky cast of my greatest mistake. Because I am eating the Easter egg. What else can I do? I made this bed. Me. I did this. And I have to undo it. And the only way to do that is to eat the Easter egg. I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t. I want this thing gone, too. I want it gone so that my sense of joy can return. God, I want it gone.

I have to see this egg.

It looks phenomenally unimpressive now, but bear in mind that it has vastly reduced in size over several weeks

Make a cake for it omg

But then how could we use it as a vessel for our rage?

I have just returned from a few days away and this is what I came home to

Such a sweet gift!! I wonder what it is!!

The torture will never end!!

I just wanted to let you all know that it is done. The evil has been defeated. I am not the person I was all those months ago, when I saw that egg which is 5 times the weight of the average, gentle Easter egg and thought, “yes.” And you know, there have been times on this journey where I’ve rued that. I’ve wished for any way to have not done this thing, this dreadful mistake, this error that ruined me. But I feel like a stronger person now. Not least because there is nearly half a kilogram of pure milk chocolate congealing in my veins and giving me all the powers of the universe.

chinese hanfu by 宴山亭

I'm gonna die from the cuteness

Screm to the heavens my angel

So I moved to California less than a week ago from the midwest and I’ve never experienced wildfires. I saw them burning up an entire mountainside. The air here smells like a campfire. Please consider contributing to some relief funds for those affected

Red Cross: https://www.redcross.org/about-us/our-work/disaster-relief/wildfire-relief.html

Los Angeles community relief: https://www.calfund.org/wildfire-relief-fund/

Undocumented Immigrants in Northern California: https://www.immigrantfundca.org/make-a-donation

Direct relief for victims of the fires (California): https://cpf.salsalabs.org/save-donate/index.html

Oregon and Washington Red Cross fund: https://www.redcross.org/donate/cm/kgwmediagroup-pub.html/

^^^ Please this!! Do consider donating where you can. Here are a few funds currently contributing to wildfire relief here in Oregon as well… Since Time Immemorial Fund (MRG Foundation in partnership with the Affiliated Tribes of Northwest Indians): https://www.mrgfoundation.org/since-time-immemorial-fund-grantmaking-committee/ CAUSA (Oregon’s Immigrant Rights Organization): https://causaoregon.org/ Sound Equine Options (Locally supporting feeding / relocation efforts of our horses and livestock): https://soundequineoptions.org/ (The Oregon Community Foundation also has a longer list which directs to specific counties)

Valentine Colasante in rehearsal for Nureyev’s Raymonda

ph. Svetlana Loboff

(submitted by @pleasegoaway)

I collected a bunch of "haha I don't have 2020 vision" "oh God not like that" posts

I wouldn’t mind a sequel to this post 🤣

I have kept coming back to this post to see the reblogs, so I can give you the ones other people collected all in one place:

This one I actually found myself!

And I don’t think that this counts, but it still has the beautiful “Ah, fuck” vibes the rest of the post does:

And let’s not forget the cursed “Supernatural GIF Perfectly Describes 2020″ one:

@ferrousferrule:  You said you were looking for more and going through the reblogs, right? In which case this isn’t going to be of much use to you, but still. Just in case it is. :)

~Nikita Gill

Legend of Ruyi | Ruyi & Hailan

Legend of Ruyi | who knew that calling Qianlong out on his crap would unite them

When this many women feel the need to tell you how done they are with you, you have a problem. 

Sometimes classics can be improved upon.

The Tree Who Set Healthy Boundaries : an alternate ending for Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree by Topher Payne 💯🌳❤️

https://www.topherpayne.com/giving-tree?

どいてくれないネコ https://twitter.com/kyuryuZ/status/1273812918467887104

IT’S MARCH

Uh… It’s still May…

It’s august

It’s September