A let’s-get-back-to-work warm up painting. I always seem to do one of these after I’m away fromt he computer for a few days.
wow sigh gosh I really need this on my blog
A comic about being happy for those who grow into their talents faster than you did
Don’t be petty, it’s not a competition
But it’s okay to weep a little on the inside, that’s cool
These would be prefect signs for fantrolls.
these are
whoa
I don’t believe in this stuff, but I’m still kind of unsettled. Still really neat, though.
Reblog for references and FUCK YEAH goetic demons
Marriage Proposal of the Day: The planning! The dorkiness! The tears!I am going to die alone!
I.. I uh.. Nope. …nope. not gonna.
Shit.
………..
*weeps*
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
運命の子たち・小さな罰 – Children of Fate: A Small Punishment
The only reason I felt alive was because you two were there.
God tier tricksters, taking on from my old set of tricksters, it took me……..SO……..LONG…….BUT I’M FINALLY DONE!!!!! I originally planned on adding in other sets but i figure just to leave these guys be uwu This was beyond fun to do, playing with the colors and designs and junk, gosh.
o m g kiddy you’ve done it again.
male rose i can’t breathe im in love
I’m not even going to tell you the catcalls I received in Manhattan when I lived there. It’s a shitty thing. If you are a lady chances are you know what it’s like to walk down the street and feel afraid of every dude you see thinking “is that guy on the corner going to say some shit to me? Please dude, do not say anything to meeee.” Anyway if you don’t know what it’s like to be harassed whenever you leave the house, here is an excellent article where women talk about that: http://rookiemag.com/2012/05/it-happens-all-the-time/
sadly, and completely, accurate
yeah manhattan was something else. after three years because I have a fuse like a glacier i started yelling back because i could not TAKE it any more
one time i was walking with a girl friend and a guy friend after class and some guy yelled some comment to me, and me and my girl friend started laughing because it sounded really ridiculous and we’re still not sure what he actually meant. and my guy friend was SHOCKED and APPALLED and OFFENDED because he’d never seen that happen before irl, it was pretty funny and also kind of sad.
First time I can remember receiving some kinda super gross comment due to being born with XX chromosomes, I was about 9 or 10. 8) 8) 8)
The awesomely insane Heaven and Hell nightclubs of 1890s Paris.
In modern times, you can find a stray cabaret or goth club in most modern metropolitan areas. But back in the late 19th century, your options were limited, albeit merrily deranged. Paris of the 1890s had several supernatural nightlife options, each of them with marvelously outlandish gimmicks.
At this gothic nightspot, visitors pondered their own mortality as they drank on coffins and were served libations (named after diseases) by monks and funeral attendees. Recalls Morrow:
“Large, heavy, wooden coffins, resting on biers, were ranged about the room in an order suggesting the recent happening of a frightful catastrophe. The walls were decorated with skulls and bones, skeletons in grotesque attitudes, battle-pictures, and guillotines in action. Death, carnage, assassination were the dominant note, set in black hangings and illuminated with mottoes on death Bishop said that he would be pleased with a lowly bock. Mr. Thompkins chose cherries a l’eau-de-vie, and I, une menthe. One microbe of Asiatic cholera from the last corpse, one leg of a lively cancer, and one sample of our consumption germ!” moaned the creature toward a black hole at the farther end of the room. Some women among the visitors tittered, others shuddered, and Mr. Thompkins broke out in a cold sweat on his brow, while a curious accompaniment of anger shone in his eyes. Our sleepy pallbearer soon loomed through the darkness with our deadly microbes, and waked the echoes in the “Drink, Macchabees!” he wailed: “drink these noxious potions, which contain thvilest and deadliest poisons!”
But Cabaret du Néant wasn’t the only creepy nightspot in Paris. Later in Bohemian Paris of To-day, Morrow described his evening at the Cabaret de l’Enfer (“The Cabaret of the Inferno”), a Satanically themed nightclub in Montmartre that abutted another cabaret. And according to the author’s account, it was perhaps the trippiest hangout of La Belle Époque:
“”Enter and be damned, the Evil One awaits you!” growled a chorus of rough voices as we hesitated before the scene confronting us. Near us was suspended a caldron over a fire, and hopping within it were half a dozen devil musicians, male and female, playing a selection from “Faust” on stringed instruments, while red imps stood by, prodding with red-hot irons those who lagged in their performance. Crevices in the walls of this room ran with streams of molten gold and silver, and here and there were caverns lit up by smouldering fires from which thick smoke issued, and vapors emitting the odors of a volcano. Flames would suddenly burst from clefts in the rocks, and thunder rolled through the caverns. Red imps were everywhere, darting about noiselessly, some carrying beverages for the thirsty lost souls, others stirring the fires or turning somersaults. Everything was in a high state of motion.”
And right next door to the Cabaret de l’Enfer was Cabaret du Ciel (“The Cabaret of the Sky”), a divinely themed bar where Dante and Father Time greeted visitors and comely ladies dressed as angels pranced around teasing patrons. As Morrow recalled, the evening’s entertainment was presided over by St. Peter himself, who anointed the boozy crowd:
“Flitting about the room were many more angels, all in white robes and with sandals on their feet, and all wearing gauzy wings swaying from their shoulder-blades and brass halos above their yellow wigs. These were the waiters, the garcons of heaven, ready to take orders for drinks. One of these, with the face of a heavy villain in a melodrama and a beard a week old, roared unmelodiously, “The greetings of heaven to thee, brothers! Eternal bliss and happiness are for thee. Mayst thou never swerve from its golden paths! Breathe thou its sacred purity and renovating exaltation. Prepare to meet thy great Creator and don’t forget the garcon!”[Later], without the slightest warning, the head of St. Peter, whiskers and all, appeared in a hole in the sky, and presently all of him emerged, even to his ponderous keys clanging at his girdle. He gazed solemnly down upon the crowd at the tables and thoughtfully scratched his left wing. From behind a dark cloud he brought forth a vessel of white crockery (which was not a wash-bowl) containing (ostensibly) holy water. After several mysterious signs and passes with his bony hands he generously sprinkled the sinners below with a brush dipped in the water; and then, with a parting blessing, he slowly faded into mist.”
more at http://io9.com/5910963/the-awesomely-insane-heaven-and-hell-nightclubs-of-1800s-paris
