“Remus Dobby Potter, you were named after the two people who actually gave a shit about my well being. One of them was a house elf and I’d much rather see you become that than a fucking Slytherin. Don’t come back unless you’re wearing red and gold you little shit.”
The Smithsonian Megatherium Club was a group of scientists who researched all day and partied all night. No, really: they drank beer, ate oysters, and had sack races through the Smithsonian Castle. They even lived in the Castle…until they were kicked out for flirting with the Smithsonian Secretary’s daughters.
The group named themselves after an extinct species of giant sloth, and they made up a special greeting for their members: “How How!” (which I think we should appropriate for ourselves and combine with our secret handshake: big wink/drinky-drinky motion/high-five).
Here are a few of their original members. Bunch of party animals, these guys:
Image via Smithsonian Archives.
I was angry after work about a lot of things (traffic, abortion insurance, “the world is going to hell” news, the stupid bourgeois grocery store i wandered into)
but then on the side of the road there was a man sitting on a stump and waving at cars.
And I felt an immediate calm.
It was like he had swallowed the Little Book of Calm, and had them absorbed the book into himself, and then gave some of it to me. Lovely!
fuck those popular posts about how real life lilo & stitch is and how great it is or whatever bc they inspired me to watch it again and i bawled through the second half and the parts about social workers/cps intervention in homes is just really hard and i’m just thinking about all the kids i teach who go through that and AHHHhhhhhhhhh
Husband animates joke about tortilla chips told by his drunk wife.