CJ's

18. Asexual College student.

blasianxbri:

ghdos:

honeydewhearts:

20daysofjune:

videohall:

Porky Pig’s speech pattern deconstructed.

BRUH

:O that was amazing

I always thought they were just random sounds. That’s kind of mind-blowing.

I’m over this man for making it seem so simple lol

(via theangelshavetheassbutts)

xcgirl08:

fairytalemood:

"The Lindworm" by Naomi Butterfield

AMAZING OBSCURE FAIRY TALE, MUCH? OKAY OKAY OKAY, HERE:
A King and Queen ruled in a time of peace and abundance; the only mar upon their happiness was that they had no children, through their youth and even into their middle age, despite many fervent hopes and prayers. One day the Queen went walking on a forest path without her attendants. There, in the dark quiet of her despair, an old woman found her. 
"My dear," asked the woman, "why are you so sad?"
"It doesn’t matter," answered the Queen, gently. "It wouldn’t make a difference if you knew."
"You may be surprised." 
"The King and I have no children. He lacks an heir, and I have always wanted a child of my own to care for. But you see, that’s not something you can help."
"Of course it is," nodded the woman, for naturally she was a witch. "Listen and do as I say; take a drinking cup and place it upside-down in your garden tonight. In the morning, you will find two roses beneath it - one red, one white. If you eat the red rose you shall give birth to a son, and the white rose shall give you a girl. But remember that you must not eat both."
"Not both?"
"No," the woman said. 
Astonished, and not a little suspicious, the Queen agreed. That night she did as the old woman had instructed, and in the morning she discovered two small roses under the cup’s brim. 
"But which one should I choose?" thought the Queen. "If I have a son, he may grow into a man who marches off to war and dies. If I have a daughter, she may stay longer with me, but I will have to see her given away in marriage. In the end, I may have no child after all."
At last she decided on the white rose, but it was so sweet to the taste - and the thought of losing a daughter to marriage was so bitter - that she ate the red rose as well, hardly remembering the old woman’s warning.
Shortly afterwards, as happens in such stories, the Queen was found to be with child. Her husband was traveling when the time came for her to give birth, and so he did not bear witness to what happened, which was this:
The Queen’s first child was no child at all, but instead there tumbled forth from her body the long, scaly one of a lindworm, a hideous dragon with a venomous bite. It scrabbled out the window on its two legs, even before the terrified midwives could move to do anything, and amidst the chaos the Queen delivered a second child as well. This one was a fine, handsome boy, healthy and perfectly formed, and the Queen made her midwives swear that they would tell no one what they had seen. And when the King arrived home, joyous at the news of his son’s birth, not a word was said. 
Years passed, so that the Queen wondered if it had not been a terrible dream. Soon enough it came time for the prince to find a wife, and he set out with his guard to a neighboring kingdom to ask for its princess’s hand in marriage. But suddenly a great lindworm appeared, and laid itself before the prince’s horse, and from its jagged-tooth mouth came a voice:
"A bride for me before a bride for you!"
The prince and his company turned about to flee. The Lindworm blocked their passage and spoke again.
"A bride for me before a bride for you!"
The prince journeyed home to tell his parents. Distraught, the Queen confessed that it was true. The Lindworm was indeed the elder brother of the prince, and so by rights should marry first. The King wrote to the ruler of a distant land, asking that they send their princess to marry his son: but he did not say which one.
A lovely princess journeyed to the kingdom, and did not see her bridegroom until he appeared beside her in the Great Hall, and by then (naturally) it was too late. The next morning they found the Lindworm asleep alone in the bridal bedchamber, and it was quite clear he had devoured his new wife. 
A second princess was sent, and a third. Both met the same fate, but each time the prince dared to embark on a journey, the Lindworm would appear again and speak: 
"A bride for me before a bride for you!"
"Father," the prince said, " we must find a wife for my elder brother."
"And where am I to find her?" asked the King. "We have already made enemies of the men who sent their daughters to us. Stories are spreading fast, and I am sure no princess would dare to come now."
So instead the King went to the royal gardener’s cottage, where he knew the old man lived with his only daughter. 
"Will you give me your daughter to marry my son, the Lindworm?" asked the King.
"No!" cried the gardener. "Please, she is everything I have in this world. Your monstrous son has eaten his way through three princesses, and he’ll gobble her up just the same. She’s too good for such a fate.”
"You must," the King said, "You must."
Distraught, the gardener told his daughter everything. She agreed to the King’s request and went into the forest so that her father would not see her weeping.
And there, in the dark quiet of her despair, an old woman found her. 
"My dear," asked the woman, "why are you so sad?"
"I’m sorry," answered the girl, kindly. "It wouldn’t make a difference if I told you."
"You may be surprised." 
"How can that be? I’m to be married to the King’s son, the Lindworm. He’s eaten his first three brides, and I don’t know what will stop me from meeting the same end. That’s not something  you can help me with."
"Of course it is," nodded the woman again. "Listen and do as I say. Before the marriage ceremony, dress yourself in ten snow-white shifts beneath your gown. Ask that a tub of lye, a tub of milk, and as many birch rods as a man can carry be brought to your bridal chamber. After you are wed, and your husband orders you to disrobe, bid him to shed a skin first. He will ask you this nine times, and when you are left wearing one shift you must whip him with the rods, wash him in the lye, bath him in the milk, wrap him in the discarded shifts, and hold him in your arms."
"Do I truly have to hold him?" the girl asked, in disgust.
"You must. It may mean your life."
The girl was suspicious, but she agreed to the woman’s plan however absurd it seemed. When the day came for the marriage, she dressed herself in ten white shifts before donning the heavy gown they offered her. When she looked upon her husband for the first time, waiting for her in the Great Hall, her steps did not falter. And when she asked for the rods, the lye, and the milk, she said it with such ease that the servant could do nothing but obey.
Finally, the girl and the Lindworm were left alone in the darkened bedchamber. For a moment she listened to the rasp and click of his scales on stone, and heard his soughing breath. 
"Maiden," said the Lindworm, "shed your shift for me."
"Prince Lindworm," answered the girl, "shed your skin first!"
"No one has ever asked me that before," the answer came.
"I am asking it of you now." 
So the Lindworm shed a skin, and the girl shed a shift, but she revealed the second shift underneath. 
"Maiden," said the Lindworm, a second time, "shed your shift for me."
"Prince Lindworm," answered the girl, again, "shed your skin first!"
They repeated this, nine times in all, and each time the Lindworm shed a skin the girl removed another white shift, until she was left wearing one. 
The Lindworm, shivering and weak and bloodied, spoke his request a last time.
"Wife," asked the Lindworm, "will you shed your shift for me?"
"Husband,"answered the girl, "will you shed your skin first?"
And the Lindworm did as she asked of him, tearing himself free of scales and armor even to the bare flesh beneath, and the girl whipped the writhing creature with her birch rods until they snapped; she carried the whole massive length of him to the tubs, lye and milk, washed him clean and bathed him and swathed him in the shifts like a great, terrible child, collapsed to the floor with her husband in her arms, and there she stayed until, exhausted, she fell asleep.
When she woke, it was to the timid knocking of a servant on the door. 
"Princess?" asked the servant. "Princess? Are you alive?"
The girl looked about the bedchamber: there in the morning light were the dried skins, and the tubs, and the broken rods, and the blood, and in her arms slept a pale, weary, but very handsome man. 
"Yes," she answered. "Yes, I am."
The King and Queen were astounded and thrilled to hear how the girl had saved their son from his curse, and she ruled together with her husband for many long years, and thus closes our tale of the most intense game of strip poker that you shall ever hear.

xcgirl08:

fairytalemood:

"The Lindworm" by Naomi Butterfield

AMAZING OBSCURE FAIRY TALE, MUCH? OKAY OKAY OKAY, HERE:

A King and Queen ruled in a time of peace and abundance; the only mar upon their happiness was that they had no children, through their youth and even into their middle age, despite many fervent hopes and prayers. One day the Queen went walking on a forest path without her attendants. There, in the dark quiet of her despair, an old woman found her. 

"My dear," asked the woman, "why are you so sad?"

"It doesn’t matter," answered the Queen, gently. "It wouldn’t make a difference if you knew."

"You may be surprised." 

"The King and I have no children. He lacks an heir, and I have always wanted a child of my own to care for. But you see, that’s not something you can help."

"Of course it is," nodded the woman, for naturally she was a witch. "Listen and do as I say; take a drinking cup and place it upside-down in your garden tonight. In the morning, you will find two roses beneath it - one red, one white. If you eat the red rose you shall give birth to a son, and the white rose shall give you a girl. But remember that you must not eat both."

"Not both?"

"No," the woman said. 

Astonished, and not a little suspicious, the Queen agreed. That night she did as the old woman had instructed, and in the morning she discovered two small roses under the cup’s brim. 

"But which one should I choose?" thought the Queen. "If I have a son, he may grow into a man who marches off to war and dies. If I have a daughter, she may stay longer with me, but I will have to see her given away in marriage. In the end, I may have no child after all."

At last she decided on the white rose, but it was so sweet to the taste - and the thought of losing a daughter to marriage was so bitter - that she ate the red rose as well, hardly remembering the old woman’s warning.

Shortly afterwards, as happens in such stories, the Queen was found to be with child. Her husband was traveling when the time came for her to give birth, and so he did not bear witness to what happened, which was this:

The Queen’s first child was no child at all, but instead there tumbled forth from her body the long, scaly one of a lindworm, a hideous dragon with a venomous bite. It scrabbled out the window on its two legs, even before the terrified midwives could move to do anything, and amidst the chaos the Queen delivered a second child as well. This one was a fine, handsome boy, healthy and perfectly formed, and the Queen made her midwives swear that they would tell no one what they had seen. And when the King arrived home, joyous at the news of his son’s birth, not a word was said. 

Years passed, so that the Queen wondered if it had not been a terrible dream. Soon enough it came time for the prince to find a wife, and he set out with his guard to a neighboring kingdom to ask for its princess’s hand in marriage. But suddenly a great lindworm appeared, and laid itself before the prince’s horse, and from its jagged-tooth mouth came a voice:

"A bride for me before a bride for you!"

The prince and his company turned about to flee. The Lindworm blocked their passage and spoke again.

"A bride for me before a bride for you!"

The prince journeyed home to tell his parents. Distraught, the Queen confessed that it was true. The Lindworm was indeed the elder brother of the prince, and so by rights should marry first. The King wrote to the ruler of a distant land, asking that they send their princess to marry his son: but he did not say which one.

A lovely princess journeyed to the kingdom, and did not see her bridegroom until he appeared beside her in the Great Hall, and by then (naturally) it was too late. The next morning they found the Lindworm asleep alone in the bridal bedchamber, and it was quite clear he had devoured his new wife. 

A second princess was sent, and a third. Both met the same fate, but each time the prince dared to embark on a journey, the Lindworm would appear again and speak: 

"A bride for me before a bride for you!"

"Father," the prince said, " we must find a wife for my elder brother."

"And where am I to find her?" asked the King. "We have already made enemies of the men who sent their daughters to us. Stories are spreading fast, and I am sure no princess would dare to come now."

So instead the King went to the royal gardener’s cottage, where he knew the old man lived with his only daughter. 

"Will you give me your daughter to marry my son, the Lindworm?" asked the King.

"No!" cried the gardener. "Please, she is everything I have in this world. Your monstrous son has eaten his way through three princesses, and he’ll gobble her up just the same. She’s too good for such a fate.”

"You must," the King said, "You must."

Distraught, the gardener told his daughter everything. She agreed to the King’s request and went into the forest so that her father would not see her weeping.

And there, in the dark quiet of her despair, an old woman found her. 

"My dear," asked the woman, "why are you so sad?"

"I’m sorry," answered the girl, kindly. "It wouldn’t make a difference if I told you."

"You may be surprised." 

"How can that be? I’m to be married to the King’s son, the Lindworm. He’s eaten his first three brides, and I don’t know what will stop me from meeting the same end. That’s not something  you can help me with."

"Of course it is," nodded the woman again. "Listen and do as I say. Before the marriage ceremony, dress yourself in ten snow-white shifts beneath your gown. Ask that a tub of lye, a tub of milk, and as many birch rods as a man can carry be brought to your bridal chamber. After you are wed, and your husband orders you to disrobe, bid him to shed a skin first. He will ask you this nine times, and when you are left wearing one shift you must whip him with the rods, wash him in the lye, bath him in the milk, wrap him in the discarded shifts, and hold him in your arms."

"Do I truly have to hold him?" the girl asked, in disgust.

"You must. It may mean your life."

The girl was suspicious, but she agreed to the woman’s plan however absurd it seemed. When the day came for the marriage, she dressed herself in ten white shifts before donning the heavy gown they offered her. When she looked upon her husband for the first time, waiting for her in the Great Hall, her steps did not falter. And when she asked for the rods, the lye, and the milk, she said it with such ease that the servant could do nothing but obey.

Finally, the girl and the Lindworm were left alone in the darkened bedchamber. For a moment she listened to the rasp and click of his scales on stone, and heard his soughing breath. 

"Maiden," said the Lindworm, "shed your shift for me."

"Prince Lindworm," answered the girl, "shed your skin first!"

"No one has ever asked me that before," the answer came.

"I am asking it of you now." 

So the Lindworm shed a skin, and the girl shed a shift, but she revealed the second shift underneath. 

"Maiden," said the Lindworm, a second time, "shed your shift for me."

"Prince Lindworm," answered the girl, again, "shed your skin first!"

They repeated this, nine times in all, and each time the Lindworm shed a skin the girl removed another white shift, until she was left wearing one.

The Lindworm, shivering and weak and bloodied, spoke his request a last time.

"Wife," asked the Lindworm, "will you shed your shift for me?"

"Husband,"answered the girl, "will you shed your skin first?"

And the Lindworm did as she asked of him, tearing himself free of scales and armor even to the bare flesh beneath, and the girl whipped the writhing creature with her birch rods until they snapped; she carried the whole massive length of him to the tubs, lye and milk, washed him clean and bathed him and swathed him in the shifts like a great, terrible child, collapsed to the floor with her husband in her arms, and there she stayed until, exhausted, she fell asleep.

When she woke, it was to the timid knocking of a servant on the door. 

"Princess?" asked the servant. "Princess? Are you alive?"

The girl looked about the bedchamber: there in the morning light were the dried skins, and the tubs, and the broken rods, and the blood, and in her arms slept a pale, weary, but very handsome man. 

"Yes," she answered. "Yes, I am."

The King and Queen were astounded and thrilled to hear how the girl had saved their son from his curse, and she ruled together with her husband for many long years, and thus closes our tale of the most intense game of strip poker that you shall ever hear.

(via silence-in-the-impala)

thekaleidoscopediaries:

notpulpcovers:

Canada, eh?
morebadbookcovers:

wordsofdiana:

corpsecaddy:

So I found this harlequin romance paperback today, and normally I just toss those right over without paying them much mind, but the cover of this one made me pause. Sure that the artist was just taking liberties, I checked out the back.

I’m dubious. I should read a passage:

It is a literal bear.
Okay yeah I’ll admit it I’m going to read this but only because it sounds like the most fucked up romance novel in existence.
But wait….

You have some explaining to do, Canada.

You guys don’t understand. Screw it being a bestseller, 50 Shades of Gray is a bestseller, this book won the Governor General’s Award. That’s the highest literary award in Canada. That’s the pulitzer prize of Canadian literature. Bear is a part of Canadian literary history.

HOLY MOLY.


i had to read this book in uni for my first year Canadian literature class. When we first heard of it we were like, “Oh the Bear’s a metaphor or some shit.” but then one kid read ahead, and was like, “Guys, no, she literally fucks the bear. She fucked a bear.” 

thekaleidoscopediaries:

notpulpcovers:

Canada, eh?

morebadbookcovers:

wordsofdiana:

corpsecaddy:

So I found this harlequin romance paperback today, and normally I just toss those right over without paying them much mind, but the cover of this one made me pause. Sure that the artist was just taking liberties, I checked out the back.

image

I’m dubious. I should read a passage:

image

It is a literal bear.

Okay yeah I’ll admit it I’m going to read this but only because it sounds like the most fucked up romance novel in existence.

But wait….

image

You have some explaining to do, Canada.

You guys don’t understand. Screw it being a bestseller, 50 Shades of Gray is a bestseller, this book won the Governor General’s Award. That’s the highest literary award in Canada. That’s the pulitzer prize of Canadian literature. Bear is a part of Canadian literary history.

HOLY MOLY.

i had to read this book in uni for my first year Canadian literature class. When we first heard of it we were like, “Oh the Bear’s a metaphor or some shit.” but then one kid read ahead, and was like, “Guys, no, she literally fucks the bear. She fucked a bear.” 

(Source: weirdbooksifind, via carry-on-all-you-wayward-sons)

prokopetz:

phiasmir:

theanimatedraccoon:

missblackglass:

bands-and-anime:

missblackglass:

datsweetberrypunch:

scarecrows-art:

poppunklovesongs:

knee-say:

"I loved you, always.”

going to comment a little on this game: the overseeing voice talks as if it owns you, and defies your free will. if you follow its orders, you are praised, and the worldview becomes sharper and more detailed. if you don’t, you are chastised, and the world becomes more vague and difficult to navigate, but also more colourful and loud. it’s odd, and sort of eerie, but definitely interesting. take it as you will.

This game really unsettles me. It unsttles me that my first choice to obey, and when I played again and disobeyed, I got really emotional really fast. Failure hurt me more the more I disobeyed. It was… interesting to experience.

i’ve always said we are trained to obey more than to think.

holy shit. i reblogged this the first time without playing. then i played in and it is terrifying. i very much like this, but it will give you intense feelings. 

What’s the game??

you obey everything the game tells you too, even jumping into barbs and basically killing yourself. if you dont youre chastised and even the scolding is terrifying

So, essentially, it’s a game that illustrates what it’s like to be in an abusive parents or an abusive relationship - and how it affects you emotionally. That is horrific and ingenious - the next time someone negates the affects of emotional abuse, I’ll take them to this game and let them come to their own conclusions.

This game absolutely gets it. The most solid and reliable degradation is a gendered insult. The more you obey and co-operate, the better understanding you seem to have of your word, and things seem easier. But what really gets me is the contradiction. You are not allowed to have the correct answer. Are you a boy or a girl? The answer is no, I will give you the answer. even towards the end, your “praise” is “no, I will give you the answer. You earned this answer, but it is given to you by me.” Disobeying makes the world frightening and confusing and difficult, but beautiful in a world devoid of flavour.

Not just a gendered insult, either. The nameless voice that directs the player’s actions is supposed to be a hateful, abusive monster, and when the game’s designers asked themselves “okay, what’s the most degrading, dehumanising thing this voice could possibly do to the player?”, the answer they came up with was “deliberately misgender them”.

(via fiction-saved-my-life)