We Should Have Had A Funeral Like This For Betty White.

To the man that brought to life one of the most witty and iconic men on tv

Rest In Peace Andre Braugher......you've brought us such iconic scenes and amazing one liners that we still use to this day. You brought us many laughs and joy with your talent. Thank you! We'll miss you!

Mona Alkurd , one of the Palestinians Israel is trying to kick along with 28 families out of their decades long homes in Sheikh Al Jarrah , the last Palestinian block in Al Quds ( Jerusalem ), to complete the restriction of the area to Israeli Jews .. simply an Apartheid by settlers.

“ Your posts and tweets are treasures to us “

Here a rough translation of what she said:

“ It falls on us and Palestinians and the honorable people supporting us with posts and tweets. You have no idea how much that means to us. Everyone who shares even one short post or tweet. Don’t feel like you’re doing nothing. Those posts and tweets are treasures to us. Help us get our cause heard. We are 28 families. 500 individuals. If we are removed, then there will be no Palestinians in Al Quds. And in the end, Allah is our hope. And it falls on us. And we will remain here to our last breath defending our lands and homes”

You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”

Well I see that, and I raise you this:

An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.

And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.

He’s crushed by the competition every single time.

Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker. 

There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.

And he wins.

Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something. 

The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.

So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.

He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”

Terrible jumper loving Dr who in my head my beloved <3

what studying literature feels like

These are my tribute pieces to Takahashi, one was done in July and one in October, after we got more news about his passing.

my ts3 game: *starts lagging all of a sudden*

me:

its the no notes ghoast