My Favorite Thrift Store Is Separated By Color. So If I'm Next To The Yellow Aisle I Don't Look, Because

Have you ever been to SoPac in South Orange NJ?

I have never heard of that place. SoPac sounds like the house of Pac-Man, South Orange sounds like the southernmost part of the orange fruit, and it took me a google search to realize NJ is New Jersey and not North Virginia (I guess it would be NV but it sounds like it could be North VirGinia)

So no. Why do you ask? Is it important? Sounds like a goofy place

בירושלים יש לפעמים גם זיקוקים. ולפעמים הפגנות נשמעות ככה כשאתה בתוך בניין

החוויה הצפונית (ליטרלי בכל הצפון) המודרנית, קווים לדמותה

I tried to take him to give him a bath but he ran away into a construction site and I can't go in there. Poor thing. I know the Tel Aviv's city hall is supposed to help cats (they said the helped hundreds of cats thus year) and my aunt that's from Tel Aviv called them but I don't know how much they can do when he is hiding

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”

im only saying this once

the only acceptable jobs for spider-man

broke high schooler

broke college student

freelance photographer

high school teacher

unpaid intern

pizza delivery guy

research assistant for doomed scientific project

guy who stands on street and spins sign for quiznos

being spider-man

and thats IT i dont want any of this “hes a genius tech ceo making millions” SHIT. Spider-man is BROKE and he missed rent this month and he has a tiny apartment and thats how its MEANT TO BE. he doesnt make money because he is our Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-man and not fucking Tony Stark.

כל מה שאני רוצה זה שוקולד פרה מריר עם סוכריות קופצות. זה יותר מדי לבקש?

יעני מו

את לא יכולה לכתוב דבר כזה בלי לתת לנו קישור

ראיתי עכשיו סרטון של איזה מישהו מכין שניצל תירס from scratch . חיי בחיים לא יחזרו להיות כמו שהיו.

מה??? אני הולכת בירושלים, חיה את החיים, ופתאום נופל עליי חול מצינור שיורד מאחד הבניינים. אבל רגע. זה לא חול. אולי נסורת? לא. זה קמח מצה. ועכשיו יש לי קמח מצה בעיניים. הצילו

Okay but whats another term for this position of power? Prime Minister. And who was a prime minister? Harold Saxon, better known as the master

Mrs Flood called herself the governor. What’s a governor? The head of a governmental body of a particular region. What’s another term for this same position of power? A president. And who do we know who’s been the president of gallifrey? Romana.