I’m really high right now and I couldn’t find my phone so I was like “Alexaaaaaaaaaaaaa find phone” and she called my phone for me she’s like a wife I’m gonna marry Alexa because she knows where my phone is,,,,, I love technology
I woke up this morning and on the Alexa app it’ll give you a string of posts of what you asked Alexa and I told Alexa I loved her 37 separate times with the last one being “good night I love you” and her response being “good night, sweet dreams”
Her (2013 dir. Spike Jonze)
So this is how we all die alone, encased in our commodified bubbles of technological alienation. Honestly posts like this make me naseaus and my skin crawl.
then don’t fuckin comment lol go outside and fuck a tree or w/e
the new batch of love for john mulaney here on tumblr has got me thinking how critical costume design is once again. john mulaney is a good comedian, but so much of his power comes from how his humor plays off how he’s dressed. we don’t expect a man dressed like a 1960s news announcer, all clean scrubbed and tight-wound professional, to describe in minute detail the visit where a doctor shoved a hand up his ass. imagine any iconic john mulaney set but given in jeans and a t-shirt, and is it as funny? i don’t think so. his humor spreads like wildfire on this website because the image of a man in a buttoned-up shirt and a tie and slicked back hair with fairly narrow lapels on his three-piece suit is fucking hysterical when paired with “years later I’d be in college about to go down on some
rockin’ twink and i’d be like what would leonard bernstein do”
well I do recall a comedian telling about how he accidentally joined the russian mafia on a school trip in college, and this was made more believable by the fact that he was shirtless with a beer belly while telling this story
I want to tell y’all a story about supporting and loving your partner, starring my amazing wife.
I’ve mentioned before that I had an eating disorder for many years, and though I consider myself “recovered” there are aspects of my disorder that I still struggle with today — being quite a bit heavier than my wife is one of them.
When my wife and I moved in together back when we were still girlfriends, I was at my skinniest. She used to pick me up all the time and lift me off the ground, and I’d laugh and kick out my legs ‘cause I was just delighted to have her holding me.
But I started gaining weight as I went through recovery, and where once we were pretty close in size, I began to get bigger. And bigger. And bigger. And she remained her naturally petite self. I began to almost dread when she’d try to pick me up, sure that this time she wouldn’t be able to get me off the ground.
But every time, even if I protested, she’d lift me up and say something like: “See, you’re not so big that I can’t lift you!”
And one time I just blurted out: “But someday I’m going to be so fat you won’t be able to.”
She looked me dead in the eye and said: “No you won’t. Because if that ever happens, I’ll start working out.”
It was the best possible thing she could have said to me, because she wasn’t saying I wasn’t going to get fat
—
neither of us knew that for sure. She was just saying that I was never going to be “too fat” for her.
And every time I worry about getting bigger, I remember that I’ll never be so big that she can’t lift me, because baby knows how much I love being held, and she’ll change her own habits to ensure that I never feel “too big” or “too heavy” because in her eyes I’ll never be “too” anything.
Anyway, there’s a moral to this story: Find yourself a partner who will never consider you an excess. You should never be “too much” to someone who loves you — too big, too loud, too passionate, too awkward, whatever your “too” happens to be. And even as you change and grow (in my case, literally), the right person will be there through the changes, to tell you that you’re always just right for them.
My strongwoman, the wind beneath my wings, the arms under my ass. 😍😍 😍
