The North and South Korean Winter Olympic Teams marched together under the Korean Unification flag at the opening ceremony of the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics. The athletes were greeted by a thunderous applause when they joined hands and entered the stadium.
He totally thought wednesday could lift him i’m dead
Honestly she probably could have.
The Addamses may well be the healthiest, most functional family unit to ever grace the small screen.
I think I’ve told this story before, but I read an article a long time ago that they asked children who watched this show why they loved it. They expected answers to be about how they like the weird, slightly creepy stuff. But no, most of the kids answered that it was because the Mommy and Daddy loved each other so much.
The Grim Reaper is no longer able to claim lives directly. Instead, when your time is up a mark appears on your body and it is the duty of every other person to kill you on sight.
I am not a careless person. I cover my tracks, monitor what I say, look before I cross the street. At least, I do now.
When I was 20 years old, I walked home reading a book. I was so engrossed that I failed to notice the heavy metal vehicle moving at my frail, human body at 40 mph.
It swerved, I stopped, no one was hurt, no one died. They never do.
It was only when I took the cookies out of the oven that I noticed the mark on my arm. I knew what it meant. It was my duty to report to the authorities to be murdered. If I didn’t, anyone who saw it would kill me on sight.
I didn’t want to die. I was only twenty years old! I hadn’t even finished college, much less gotten to all my grand plans and ambitions (never mind that I didn’t have any. I had time to plan out the rest of my life later. So I thought.)
I burned my arm on the cookie sheet. The scar covered the black mark somewhat, and I put a bandaid over it. The people at work didn’t question it.
After some time, the burn healed. The mark remained black over the scar, bigger now. I tried carving it out with a knife. It was winter now, and long sleeves were the norm – no one would notice my injury. The mark remained, the bloody lower layers of my skin black as death’s robes.
From then on I wore long sleeves. When I went to the doctor I covered it with paint and hoped they wouldn’t notice. They didn’t. I was lucky.
The mark grew.
I was in trouble when it reached my wrist. As soon as it covered my hand I would be discovered. I ran.
Soon I will be nothing but a shadow in the night. Perhaps some of the stories they tell of night creatures originate from people like me. Those who escaped, their marks covering them, even the whites of their eyes turned deepest black. In a way, we are no longer human. Isolated, undying, immortal, betrayers of nature’s most fundamental law: all things must come to an end.
If I outlive humanity, will I ever die?
When the sun goes nova, will I still exist?
When the universe ends, will I endure?
Or is death simply a shortcut to that end? When the last star has gone out and matter has been erased, will Death greet me with a weary sigh, saying “where have you been? We’ve been waiting for you for an eternity.”
At that point, will I even remember who is waiting for me?
Dwarves shit huge and pee little… elves pee large and shit barely at all
Dwarves work in mines, their kidneys are in overdrive clearing all of the toxins and heavy metals they come into contact with. Their diet is mostly high efficiency foods, such as meat and fat and mushrooms. They probably don’t get a lot of plant matter in their diets.
Meanwhile elves’ diet is almost 100% plant matter (and all of the fiber that comes along with that) and their lifestyle is obsessed with fresh air, clean water, and a pure environment.
Face the facts: dwarves pee huge and shit little, and elves shit large and pee barely at all
However:
Dwarves find belching polite and good fun, a compliment to the drink and cook. Farting, however, is crass– after all, farting in a mine shaft? Just think about it. It’s like blasting your buddies in the car and locking the windows, but in this case there are no windows to lock. You’re just sealed up in the darkness, inhaling Dvalin’s particular brand of beer-cheese-eggs-and-mushroom while your beard hairs curl and your eyes water.
Conversely, Elves rip ass all the time because they subsist on fart fuel. Because they eat plant matter, they aren’t too ripe but they are loud enough to rattle the surrounding forestry, which the Elves delight in. Proper Elvish farts are released right next to an innocent victim in a stealth maneuver, as quietly as possible. The aggressor stands innocently nearby, until the victim begins to protest and complain and accuse, at which time a good laugh is had by all (except the unfortunate victim). The other beloved Elvish tradition is to loudly rip one in a quiet room, then firmly and solemnly chasten the nearest Elf for it– this one is favored by elder, Elves with the most dignified personalities.
Who the fuck decided we needed this?
God did when she moved my fingers to type the original post.
It’s been nothing but hardship and regret from there on, but I still trust that it’s part of a greater plan.
SourFlame 