copperbadge:

quasi-normalcy:

Yet another reason I’m sad Terry Pratchett is dead is because I just know that the Discworld novel he would have written in response to recent developments in Britain and the world would be fucking scathing.

“A small but growing number of people believe we should magically summon a new world turtle and place Ankh-Morpork on its back in order to leave the Disc entirely, sir.”

“Intriguing.”

“It can’t be done, sir. Especially not the…” Drumknott consulted his paperwork. “…bit where, and I quote, Obviously we’ll leave all the foreigners behind. They seem divided on the precise definition of foreigner but it seems to include anyone who doesn’t look like them, and most people who do look like them but speak funny.”

“Ah, we’ve reached that part, where we define foreigner so we know who to give the boot to,” Vetinari sighed. 

“It’s obviously not really plausible, sir, we’d lose a lot of good trade routes if there were no longer any external portions of the Disc attached to us, and having consulted with the alchemists there’s a strong sense among them that we would shortly run out of air to breathe should we leave the Disc’s protective weather systems.”

“Ah, but they can vote on it, you see,” Vetinari said. “They can campaign for it. And just knowing we ought to do it…”

He pulled a report across his desk, one in the crabbed, unmistakable schoolboy handwriting of Sir Samuel. “Crime is up, Drumknott.”

“I wasn’t aware we’d increased the Thieves’ Guild allotments this month, sir.”

“We haven’t. Nor the Assassins’ Guild. Unfortunately the crimes on the rise are of the go-back-where-you-came-from variety and there is, as of yet, no Bigots’ guild.”

“Do you think creating one would stop them, sir?”

“Not in this case, no,” Vetinari murmured. “I suspect we shall have to leave it up to human decency and the efforts of the Watch.”

Drumknott gave him the most horrified look he’d seen since the first time he suggested promoting Sir Samuel. 

“Not really, sir?”

“Of course not. Good lord, Drumknott. I shall have some errands for you today, however, and you’d best fetch the Commander. And Mr. De Worde. Get De Worde here first, then bring in Sir Samuel when he’s had just enough time to get nervous in the waiting room. If Sir Samuel is at home, do bring her Ladyship along, otherwise I’ll see her at the dinner tomorrow night. Ah yes, and I believe I shall pay a visit to Mr. Von Lipwig tomorrow afternoon; please notify him of the impending surprise inspection of the mint.”

“But sir, what will you – “

“That will be all, Drumknott,” Vetinari said.

In the crevices of Vetinari’s mind, gears began to turn. Disorder, of course, was a natural aspect of any city, but unpleasantness of this sort led to much too much and the wrong kind of disorder. After all, at one time Ankh-Morpork had simply been a swampy plain; trace a family back far enough and everyone was an immigrant. The kind of thinking that led to one saying they were taking their city and leaving sooner or later led to metaphorical shoving matches over who looked a little too igneous to be allowed, or whose mother sent funny food with them to school, or who exactly was allowed to wear what kind of cloth on their head. 

And the whole thing, as he knew from personal experience, could very well lead to unpleasantly large dragons. 

Perhaps it was time to set some spinning tops in motion. 

Fluff rice with a fork, never stir it with a spoon.
Vaseline is the best night time eye cream on the market.
You can buy alcohol and chips with your parents’ gas station credit cards.
If you force something, you’ll break it. That could be good or bad.
It’s important to read the care tags on your clothing and follow those instructions.
Related: don’t wash and dry j. crew wool sweaters.
Changing your car’s oil is not optional.
Whatever physical objects you acquire you will one day have to put into a box and move.
You’re allowed to disagree with negative feedback.
It’s always worth reading the instruction manual.
Nostalgia, like any drug, can be a poison or a remedy.
Pets are like human friends but better in every conceivable way.
Good doctors listen more than they talk.
You can’t fix a burned roux.
Floss.
Just because someone is an authority figure does not mean they are intelligent/competent/right.
Measure twice, cut once.
Get your nice jeans and dress pants tailored by a professional.
If you’re uncomfortable wearing it you will not look good.
You’re not required to drink alcohol while in a bar.
There are a few things that cure all ills: the beach, your favorite album on vinyl, and fresh garlic.
Kindness is not weakness.
Baking soda is not baking powder.
Taking Excedrin P.M. while still in public is not advisable.
Terrible people will succeed. Wonderful people will fail. The world is not fair.
Appropriate footwear is always key.
You can absolutely be too forgiving.
Real humor punches up, not down.
Reading the assigned chapters will actually help you learn the material.
There are no adults. Everyone is as clueless as you are.
Applying eyeliner well is a timeless art.
You can always leave. Awkward dates, suffocating jobs, hometowns that you outgrow, relationships that aren’t growing in the right direction.
You can always come home again.
But it won’t be the same.
Life is too short for bad books, boring movies, shitty people, and margarine.
Never underestimate the importance of eyebrows.

shapechangersinwinter:

locusimperium:

A few years ago, when I was living in the housing co-op and looking for a quick cookie recipe, I came across a blog post for something called “Norwegian Christmas butter squares.” I’d never found anything like it before: it created rich, buttery and chewy cookies, like a vastly superior version of the holiday sugar cookies I’d eaten growing up. About a year ago I went looking for the recipe again, and failed to find it. The blog had been taken down, and it sent me into momentary panic. 

Luckily, I remembered enough to find it on the Wayback Machine, and quickly copied it into a file that I’ve saved ever since. I probably make these cookies about once a month, and they last about five days around my voracious husband – they’re fantastic with a cup of bitter coffee or tea. I’m skeptical that there is something distinctively Norwegian about these cookies, but they do seem like the perfect thing to eat on a cold day. 

Norwegian Christmas Butter Squares

1 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 egg
1 cup sugar
2 cups flour
1 tsp vanilla
½ tsp salt
Turbinado/ Raw Sugar for dusting

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Chill a 9×13″ baking pan in the freezer. Do not grease the pan.

Using a mixer, blend the butter, egg, sugar, and salt together until it is creamy.  Add the flour and vanilla and mix using your hands until the mixture holds together in large clumps. If it seems overly soft, add a little extra flour. 

Using your hands, press the dough out onto the chilled and ungreased baking sheet until it is even and ¼ inch thick.  Dust the top of the cookies evenly with raw sugar.

Bake at 400 degrees until the edges turn a golden brown, about 12-15 minutes. Remove from the oven. Let cool for about five minutes before cutting the cooked dough into squares. Remove the squares from the warm pan using a spatula.

celticpyro:

starfoozle:

Oh my god. So my mom has proposed a total ban on political debates on Thanksgiving and she intends to enforce this by not only putting up a sign at the dinner table….but by also arming everyone with cheap plastic kazoos….which we will toot aggressively if The Discourse™ begins to occur…..

I’m so glad.

Bad and naughty discoursers must be silenced by the KAZOO OF CIVILITY.