Anonymous asked: Amyyyyyyy <3333 come bak to tumblr. it is so lonely without you and your witty posts sometimes
I don’t really use this one anymore because I made one for one of my books and I ended up following everybody on that one and checking that one more often until I kinda forgot about this one. The only one I sort of still use sometimes is another one on the same account called thetwitchandtheteacup.tumblr.com, but it’s mostly a thing where I was trying to figure out how a certain character in one of my books thinks by trying to simulate how she would react to different media through making a blog in her perspective, so it’s all sort of like “OoOoOoOoOoOoOo! SoOoOoOo UnUsUaL!!!!”
Anonymous asked: Heeeey it's Candace!!! What is your e-mail address? This one ::points to the dark and dingy back office, which is infested with every specie of wire imaginable, particularily at one strange noodle who sits in it most of the day:: doesn't know it. Mine is cakburch (@) aim (.) com. I'm considering reactivating my facebook account, but am scared to.
aureliaaurelis@gmail.com is the one I use
COMMUNISTS is such a fun word to say
Say it to yourself now, go on, with determination.
COMMUNISTS.
a good post
a great post
Full Marx for effort
I hate when I walk into my kitchen and there is a possum in my sink…
I love when I walk into my kitchen and there is a possum in my sink
This is a homeless guy who lives on a bridge in Dublin City. Last week his rabbit was grabbed from him and thrown into the river below.. the River Liffey. Which is one of the most horrible rivers in Ireland. The currents are really strong and it’s filthy.. Anyway, as soon as the rabbit hit the water this guy was already hurdling off the bridge and towards the freezing river to save her. After hitting the water and successfully locating her, he proceeding to pump air back into her, making her regain consciousness and basically come back to life. I was talking to him today along with another woman and she asked “Why in the name of God did you jump into the water? Did you not think about it?!” and straight away he replied with “No. I didn’t stop to think. I just jumped. It was an instinct.. I needed to save her.”
(via jessatr0n)
How could someone do such a terrible thing? That makes me physically ill.
Secret cinema found beneath Paris
In September 2004, French police discovered a hidden chamber in the catacombs under Paris. It contained a full-sized movie screen, projection equipment, a bar, a pressure cooker for making couscous, a professionally installed electricity system, and at least three phone lines. Movies ranged from 1950s noir classics to recent thrillers.
When the police returned three days later, the phone and power lines had been cut and there was a note on the floor: “Do not try to find us.” (via)
I WANT TO BE A PART OF THEIR CLUUUUUB
So, the reason my book isn’t done, well, when I told everyone I was writing this morning, I was actually sitting outside in a bathing suit singing Gogol Bordello songs to my kitty Chicken Nugget-
- while gluing magazine clippings together to make tweenish subhipster chotchkies for my door.
And then I saw Humphrey was shedding his skin and I had to take lots of pictures of him because he is prettier than my books.
They love America the way a four-year old loves her mommy. Liberals love America like grown-ups. To a four-year-old, everything Mommy does is wonderful and anyone who criticizes Mommy is bad. Grown-up love means actually understanding what you love, taking the good with the bad, and helping your loved one grow. Love takes attention and work and is the best thing in the world. That’s why we liberals want America to do the right thing. We know America is the hope of the world, and we love it and want it to do well. We also want it to do good.”
- Al Franken
(via dulce)
Re-blogged for being 100% right.
(via nefariousnewt)
OMG THIS THIS THIS THIS THIS.
(salymander)
Will always reblog this quotation.
(via tenderstatue)
I love a good metaphor.
(via rosalarian)
Hanging out in the backyard with me while I put towels on the clothesline.
It took several seconds of inspection to realize that this deer was not sporting a fantastic mustache.
I’m not creating a monster on purpose, really
But my new book now includes the following metaphor:
When Ester looked Erika in the eyes, the experience was comparable only to being caressed unexpectedly on the inner thigh by a terrifying Aztec goddess with the head of a bird.
I’m not sure what part of my consciousness was incubating that sentence, but I may want to get it inspected by a trained professional.
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