In which Brad gets the worst weapon because no one really wants him to survive.
OMG I never expected to find this show on Tumblr
my teenagehood
you guys have no idea how happy I am.
(via rufftoon)
wugs:
wugs:
In French, you don’t really say “fuck me.” You say “mets ta baguette magique dans mon four,” which is closer to “put your magic baguette in my oven.”
I love that. Baguettes in ovens. It’s about food.
I’m French and I’m pretty sure you say ‘casse-moi’ which means something like ‘break me’. Just saying.
no that doesn’t make sense that’s much too violent
the french dont like violence they like bread
Act VII, Scene II, Continued
Lifts-Her-Tail
My goodness, that’s quite a loaf! But how ever shall it fit my oven?
Crantius Colto
This loaf isn’t ready for baking, my sweet. It has yet to rise.
Lifts-Her-Tail
If only we could hurry that along. How would I accomplish such a task?
Crantius Colto
Oh, my foolish little Argonian maid, you must use your hands.
Lifts-Her-Tail
You wish me to knead the loaf? Here?
Crantius Colto
Of course.
Lifts-Her-Tail
But what if the mistress catches me? Your loaf was meant to satisfy her appetite.
Crantius Colto
Don’t fret, my delicate flower. I’ll satisfy the mistress’s cravings later.
Lifts-Her-Tail
Very well, but I’m afraid my oven isn’t hot enough. It could take hours!
Crantius Colto
Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time.
End of Act VII, Scene II
(via thepantspirate)
and let the angels sing…
TTwTT
GKGHEHEHEH
(via oestranhomundodek)
- non-english speaker: I am awfully sorry at the terrible state of my English abilities, as for the English language is not my mother tongue. I hope you forgive me for every foolish mistake I make.
- english as first language: lol it okei
Du rhum, des femmes
Chorus : Du rhum, des femmes et d’la bière nom de Dieu
Un accordéon pour valser tant qu’on veut
Du rhum des femmes c’est ça qui rend heureux
Que l’diable nous emporte on n’a rien trouvé de mieux
Oh oh oh oh, on n’a rien trouvé de mieux
Hello cap’taine! fait briller tes galons
Et reste bien au chaud quand on gèle sur le pont
Nous c’est notre peine qui nous coule sur le front
Alors tient bien les rênes tu connais la chanson
[Chorus]
Ça fait une paye qu’on n’a pas touché terre
Et même une paye qu’on s’fait des gonzesses en poster
Tant pis pour celle qui s’pointera la première
J’lui démonte la passerelle, la cale, la dunette arrière
[Chorus]
Tout est gravé quelque part sur ma peau
Tellement que j’en ai les bras comme des romans photos
Blessure de guerre, cul d’bouteille, coup de couteau
Tant qu’y aura des comptoirs on aura des héros
[Chorus]
Trois mille du cap et des fois c’est les glandes
Quand t’as le cœur qui dérape, t’as les tripes qui fermentent
J’essaie de penser au claque aux filles qui s’impatientent
Pas au bateau qui craque entre deux déferlantes
[Chorus x2]
High five.
Haut cinq.
Sank hoe.
ha
I just thought of something.
The USA had “a revolution” and “a civil war”.
Canada had “rebellions”.
…Hrm.
My feels…
(via farawayfrmclose)

and linguistics.
(via withalookofquoi)

I am a cunning linguist.
(via youknowquebec)

I NEED IT. IN MY BELLY.
About Titanic (and why it makes this dude cry)
Yeah, alright, I admitted it.
Just let me be a frenchman and romantic for a while, alright?
A hundred years ago, the Titanic sank; one of the worst maritime tragedy in history. Now, the story itself is already sad to think about, but it’s nothing special if you just have the story and the numbers in mind.
And then you have some prick named James Cameron who decides to put a love story in the middle of it, and center a movie around that.
Damn him.
I didn’t use to care about that film, like many kids my age when it came out. Then I grew up, and eventually I fell in love with a girl I had an extremely unlikely chance to ever meet. A stroke of luck. She was in California, and I was from Quebec.
It was even more unlikely that we ever had a chance to meet in person. But when we did, against all odds, it was like we had known each other forever (which technically, as corny as it sounds, is true, considering we had two years to know each other).
The relationship has had its trials over the years, and tough shit happened, but every time we somehow pulled through. And somehow, every time we had the chance to be together again, for even just a week, it turned out to be a blurry time of laughing, drinking, smoking, dancing, music, colors, and wonders, and time really stopped mattering. And these handful of days somehow made it up for all the hardships we had to deal with during the other’s absence.
And then comes the day one of us has to go to the airport, and go back “home”.
So… James Cameron’s Titanic, in all this?
Well, there is a particular scene in which Rose is lowered into the sea in one of the escape boats, and she looks up to Jack, who has to stay behind. Both are powerless about their situations.
If you’ve had to walk away from your loved one through a security checkpoint at the airport, or had to watch him or her walk away; if you had to be just on the other side of a window wall, and put your hand over theirs on the glass, and for a moment start to doubt you’ll ever see them again…
Well, let’s just say I can sympathize with Jack and Rose on a whole other level than what I imagine is usual.
I have had to live through this moment for maybe three, four times a year, for the past five years. Every time, it feels like leaving a piece of my soul is torn and left behind.
Back in the movie, now comes the moment that makes me lose it. Rose eventually jumps over the railing, through the guards and passengers trying to hold her back, and she runs back up to Jack. Because it just didn’t matter, so long as they were together.
It’s the exact same thing I have (and I’m sure she has) wanted to do, every time, but couldn’t possibly do. Because this is real life, and not a movie.
I’m dying for the moment when I can go “fuck it”, and tear up my passport, and just jump back over the lines and not have to go through them ever again.
…Having to leave a piece of my heart behind so many times a year is a backward blessing, because it also means I get to see her run up towards me, at the train station or at the airport, just as many times. And then I get to feel her throw her arms around my neck, and I squeeze her back just as desperately happily, because we made another fairy tale happen, and we get to have a couple of blurry days together where nothing else matters.
Because, let’s be honest, it is a fairy tale. Or one of those myths of old, where lovers had to part for long periods at a time.
And as much as I hate the goodbyes, the “you’re back..!“‘s always make up for it.
So…
Je t’aime, ma belle. Tu sais qui tu es, et tu me manques. <3
(And all of that thought process goes through my head every time I watch that movie. Goddammit, Cameron.)
