You’re in the fifth grade, and you’re going to a brand new school. You have one friend, a best friend, and he’s the only one that knows: what to expect at the new school, what you and your family are like, what you’re going to be learning. You feel an understandable loyalty to this boy, who needed a friend badly as well when you met him. Another group of boys, bullies so it appears, makes fun of your only friend en route to this new school, and then laughs at you as well when you try to defend him. You decide you don’t like them very much.
You’re a freshman in high school, still surrounded by all the same children you’ve known since age 11. You are still very close with your best friend, even though you worry about him a lot. He’s started getting involved with a gang, one who (by the way) racially opposes a demographic that happens to include you. He’s started getting mixed up with dangerous, illegal, and even cruel activity. You have other friends by this point, but you still feel a special loyalty to this one. You try to help him and talk to him rationally, but all he seems to want to talk about is the bad sides of everyone else, including that arrogant boy who has now been bullying him since age 11. He does not realize that he’s becoming a bully himself.
You’re a sophomore in high school now, age 15. It is the worst day of your best friend’s life. That boy, the “bully” that he hates, hates him right back. It’s been a long time coming, and the two boys butt heads again. The bully is bored and looking to entertain his friends- he picks a fight. It’s a stupid thing to do, really, but he’s 15 years old. Who isn’t proud and bored and stupid and filled with anger at age 15? The bully starts the fight, but your best friend aims to end it once and for all- he pulls a weapon, let’s say, maybe even a gun. Things he learned from that gang he’s begun to spend more time with. But you still love him, obviously, so you rush to defend him.
The bully calls you out in front of everyone, asks you on a date. By all means, it’s embarrassing and frankly a little insulting. It’s exam week, you’re stressed, and you’re angry. Everything your best friend had said about this bully was right- look how he thought he could get away with anything. You just want to help your best friend…but oh. Nevermind. Looks like he doesn’t need you as badly as he’d always said. All three of you are prideful and angry and running on adrenaline…but he’s the only one that calls you a name, something unforgivable that makes you realize that he’s actually had a foot on the other side of the line for longer than you thought. It’s far more embarrassing than the stuck-up rail-skinny bully asking you out as an ultimatum. It’s downright humiliating. It’s the day you lost your best friend. You decide that you hate both of them now.
And then, years pass. You’re 17, and people are dying all around you. There’s a war on, people are growing up way too fast. You haven’t reconciled with your best friend, but you do find yourself spending more time with that “bully”, through class or hall-patrols. You decide that you still don’t like him, more out of pride and principle than anything else. Because, really, has he ever been cruel to you a day in his life? Others maybe, but those aren’t exactly your battles. Not anymore.
And then, one day, you find out that his favorite color is blue. You realize that you never knew that before. You realize that you always saw him as this 2D “bully” based on what you heard and saw since you were in the 5th grade. And you realize that you aren’t in the 5th grade anymore. You’ve grown up, certainly, since then. Why is it so unreasonable to assume he may have too?
You find out that his best friend, that quiet, sarcastic boy that you’ve spent a lot of time with, is sick with something he’ll never recover from. You realize why this “bully” is so fiercely loyal to his friends, why he’s always trying so hard to lighten the mood.
You find out that his mother’s just passed away. You realize that the only reason he was so adored and had everything was because she worked to make it that way because he was the only son she had. And he was the only mother he had. And now he feels alone and dejected, and isn’t sure he even wants to have kids one day. But you realize that this would be a crime because he would make such a great father.
You tell him so. He points out that this is the first compliment you’ve ever allowed him, and you feel ashamed of yourself, somewhere in the pit of your stomach.
Because he’s a real person and this is the first real time you’ve spent getting to know him.
So you tell him about yourself, too. The real things, behind the looks and the significant color of your hair and the books you loved.
He apologizes for having such an out-there crush on you, but explains that he just knew you would be as fascinating as you seemed. You apologize for always keeping him at arms length; you see, you’d just heard and saw so much over the years that you’d blinked and missed the part where you stopped being angry, prideful teens, and became reasonable adults. You apologize for deciding he wouldn’t be fascinating before you even tried to find out. Because he was. Fascinating, that is.
And then one day he kisses you, all soft lips and nervous smiles. And he asks you out on a date. There are issues from the past that you aren’t quite ready to get over, broken friendships that you still blame him for. But you realize that there are things more important than pride. You realize that if you want to believe that you have grown and changed as a person, you should offer others the benefit of the doubt.
So you go out to dinner.
And you fall in love with that boy you thought was a bully.
And you get married, and fight for freedom side by side, and support each other, and become parents together, and build a life.
And one day, even though he knows he isn’t going to make it, that boy puts himself between you, your son, and danger, so that maybe you will. He gave up his life to make sure yours would go on for a little longer. He stands up to the real bullies of the world, the ones that are so entrenched in hate and cruelty that you can’t believe you ever gave your husband and these men the same title.
Because people are capable of growth and kindness. The ones that don’t bother with either are the real bullies of the world. And you wouldn’t have known that if you didn’t give this wonderful man a chance.
This story is the story, basically, of Lily Evans and James Potter. So the next time you rattle on about it being “unrealistic”, try putting yourself in their shoes. It’s a real-world applicable relationship that developed and grew over time. It’s, in my opinion, the most realistic relationship in the books. So maybe it’s time to stop relying on skewed flashbacks and start filling in the blanks.
I know this is really long, but it’s so, so worth reading.
Asked by Anonymous
all right everyone sit down, shut up and listen closely because I’m about to tell y’all the tale of Ms. Mormino.
Seventh grade is a time most people don’t look back on fondly. I know I sure don’t—I tend to regard that era as nothing more than an unpleasant, acne-filled haze of fall out boy and poor attempts at pseudo-zooey deschanel fashions. But enough about me. Let’s talk about my math teacher.
Ms. Isom. Poor old Ms. Isom. Well in her 60’s, always plagued with some illness or injury, she was hardly ever even at school. Since many of her absences were the result of short-notice incidents—“falling down the stairs” was popularly cited— it wasn’t all that uncommon to not have a substitute on hand. Being a smartass honors class, we’d gotten away with several successful evasions of administration, walking cavalierly into class to pass the next 48 minutes doing just about nothing. Hell, for good measure, we’d sometimes even toss in a friendly “hey, Ms. Isom!” if any administrators were anywhere within earshot. So incredibly anti-establishment, you could basically call it another Project Mayhem, except instead of Brad Pitt and Ed Norton concocting homemade bombs, it was a bunch of tweenyboppers with iPhone 3’s and Justin Bieber 2009 haircuts.
We got pretty accustomed to our own little self-governing system that rolled around every second period, so we naturally weren’t exactly thrilled when administration caught on to our little Anarchy Act and strictly enforced the presence of a substitute every day.
Most of our subs weren’t terrible—most were friendly, gave us participation grades, and didn’t object to the independent attitude of our class (which, mind you, only had about ten students in it)
That is, until Ms. Mormino came along.
Four feet, ten inches of raw, undiluted evil, Ms. Mormino walked into class with a scowl on her face and a chip on her shoulder. When the girl behind me sneezed, Ms. Mormino’s immediate response was “NO INAPPROPRIATE NOISES!”
Although we all suppressed our laughter, we all knew from that moment on that, try as she might with her despotism and her draconian anti-sneeze policy, Ms. Mormino didn’t stand a chance.
The arguable beginning of the end for Ms. Mormino’s all-too-brief reign of terror was the moment I asked for a calculator; mine was broken. Mormino asserted that I could only borrow a calculator if I loaned her something of mine; at that moment, the girl next to me chimed in, saying she, too, needed a calculator. “I have a folder I can give you,” I offered. “I have a highlighter,” added the other girl.
At that moment, a puberty-creaking voice from the back of the room piped up.
We all know certain people have certain gifts. Michelangelo saw angels in every block of marble and devoted his life to setting them free; Einstein had a mind which saw the potential of the entire universe; F. Scott Fitzgerald wove intricate tales of decadence and depravity. Max, however, had a different kind of gift: he could make anything—anything at all—into a “that’s what she said” joke. More on that later, though.
Max pried off a Nike sneaker and held it proudly in the air, like a coveted trophy.
"I have a shoe."
Tottering in one-shoe-one-sock, Max dumped the sneaker on Ms. Mormino’s desk, retrieved a calculator, then tottered back to his own desk, a sort of smirk playing on his face. And, as to be expected—the rest of us quickly followed suit.
A small pile of shoes on her desk, Ms. Mormino grit her teeth and glared at us as we all sat back down, quietly victorious, a calculator in each of our hands. It wasn’t long, however, until we all began to silently plot our next act of minor mayhem.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" asked Tyler, who, despite being in seventh grade, was approaching his sixteenth birthday. In a combination of verism and admiration of Tyler’s devil-may-care boldness, we unequivocally accepted him as our leader. For reasons unknown, Ms. Mormino denied his request. Tyler, much like his Fight Club namesake, heeded no rules but his own and left anyway—Ms. Mormino, furious, locked the door behind him and smugly insisted that "administration will take care of him."
Tyler, however, was not one to be caught, and stayed close by, appearing in the window of the door whenever Ms. Mormino wasn’t looking. Waving, smiling, laughing, making faces and obscene gestures, Tyler had us all in stitches, but cleverly avoided Ms. Mormino’s sight—when she asked us what was so funny, we all refused to give Tyler away.
A girl asked to go to the bathroom, stating she “really really really” needed to go. Ms. Mormino, again, denied her request. Ms. Mormino, however, seemed to be uninformed about the side door—leading right outside, always locked from the outside but always open from the inside.
"Well, I’ll go myself," the girl responded, and took off, hurdling three desks and darting out the door. Right behind her, two other students took off, pursuing freedom. The door slammed behind all three students, and they were gone.
Six of us were left. Among us, importantly, was Chris.
Chris was thirteen, but looked half his age; scrawny, wiry, he probably measured in at about four-foot-three, but no taller. “Late Bloomer” are words that come to mind.
Despite his diminutive size, Chris possessed the gall of someone like Tyler.
"I have to use the bathroom," said Chris, standing.
”Do you think I’m going to allow you to go to the bathroom?” snapped Ms. Mormino.
”It’s an emergency!” Chris pleaded.
"Sit down," Ms. Mormino growled.
Meanwhile, the entire class borders on hysteria. We have tears in our eyes, almost suffocating from choking back laughter.
"It’s an emergency," repeated Chris, but it sounded more like a warning.
Silence. Silence, Silence and more silence, until we all began to notice a dark stain on Chris’s khakis. The stain grew. And grew. And grew.
Fists at his sides, stoicism in his face, and a cold, proud, triumphant glint in his eye, Chris locked eye contact with Ms. Mormino.
And pissed right in his pants.
The entire class erupted into a laugh only comparable to the detonation of a bomb.
We laughed so hard for the next five, ten, fifteen minutes straight that Ms. Mormino gave up. Surrendering, putting her head on her desk, she waited until the hysteria finally subsided.
Finally looking up, defeated, pathetic, Ms. Mormino glared at us all and wailed:
”This is too much, this is too hard, too hard, Jesus Christ, this is too much for me!”
A lone voice sounded from the back of the room. Guess whose it was.
"That’s what she said."
Ms. Mormino officially retired from teaching that afternoon.
FUCKING READ IT IT’S WORTH IT
I FUCKING BEG ALL OF YOU TO READ THIS
WRITE A BOOK
THIS WAS AMAZING.
[image: whovian confessions image of Amy Pond, with caption that says “a friend of mine once asked me if I could tell her anything about Amy’s life which doesn’t include the Doctor, Rory or the fact that she’s a kissogram. I could not answer”].
BUT MOFFAT IS SUCH A GoOD WRITER GUISE.
I mean, how many companions can really pass this test?
Name one thing about Rose’s that doesn’t involve the Doctor, her mom, her dad, Mickey, or her job when she met the Doctor. I’m drawing a blank.
When she was sixteen she dropped school and moved out because she was in love with Jimmy Stone, which resulted in her never getting her A-levels. He later broke her heart and she returned to live with Jackie.
Is that enough?
RTD may have his flaws when it comes to writing (nobody’s perfect anyway) but at least he made the effort to give us glimpses of the life the companions had before meeting the Doctor. Moffat doesn’t care because that’s obviously not that important.
Rose got the bronze in an under-sevens gymnastics tournament; Rose’s best mate was named Shareen, and they used to skip school sometimes to go to the shops and look at boys; Rose loves chips and likes pizza and tolerates football; Rose has never learned French, though Jackie thinks she should’ve.
These are all things we learn within the first six episode of series one. And that’s not counting the remarkable depth and breadth provided when one fully incorporates her parents, which were restricted despite not being on Amy’s list. And you can say BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR, AMY DIDN’T HAVE PARENTS, but lol now she does and they’ve never explored how that changed her, and LOL PETE’S DEATH HAD A MASSIVE, VISCERAL EFFECT ON ROSE AND THE PLOT OF THE SHOW AND WAS MENTIONED SEVERAL TIMES BEFORE IT WAS EXPLORED AND IT’S A PART OF HER.
Rose’s life on the Powell Estate is more vividly rendered and thoroughly examined in just the Aliens of London/World War 3 two-parter than Leadworth has been in the two seasons we’ve known the Ponds. It’s not just Rose we learn about; we learn about her family in her absence, we see Mickey and Jackie interact and learn and grow together, painting a picture of their past and building a future, because they have a relationship COMPLETELY INDEPENDENT OF ROSE. We learn that Rose is the kind of person who knows exactly where things are in her boyfriend’s kitchen, even when he doesn’t, even when she hasn’t stepped foot in his flat in a (technical temporal) year. We get cut aways to the British *and American* newscasts of plot events, for chrissake.
I mean, I’d make similar lists for Martha and Donna, or heck, even for any of the one-off guest companions from SINGLE EPISODES in Rusty’s era who’ve had more thoroughly-painted backstories than Amy Pond, but I’d give myself carpal tunnel and sacrifice several hours typing it all out.
The two showrunners are incomparable.
I was about to say the whole bronze under sevens thing but professor spork did a much better job. None of Moffat’s companions even compare. He just doesn’t flesh them out at all.
I think I’m going to ask this post to marry me I love it so much
I’m not even a Doctor Who fan and I love this analysis.
Reblogging this again. I like Amy as a character, for the potential of what she could be. But Moffat…well, he doesn’t make it easy to love her because though she is a strong, somewhat likable character, she is quite one dimensional. Her character revolves around Rory and the Doctor. I can’t name one thing she does exclusively for her. Unlike Martha, Rose, and Donna.
Meanwhile, in prehistoric Canada…..
No no, you don’t understand, moose really do get that big. Take it from a Canadian. I’ve seen that bullshit in person. Scary as all heck.
And that’s how people can die if they hit a moose. Seriously, one of our fears when driving in the country is having to deal with this scenario of a moose jumping out in front of the car.
moose are actual legit ice age megafauna; theyve been here since the ice age, they are old as fuck. they also are pretty terrifying and ive echoed this before but i went to wiki and “In terms of raw numbers, they attack more people than bears and wolves combined” and “ In the Americas, moose injure more people than any other wild mammal and, worldwide, only hippopotamuses injure more.”
like, fuck off with that
I was dog sitting a dog once who insisted she had to go out in the middle of the night it was an emergency, so I took her out. Suddenly she starts pointing and barking and I look up and can just make out the outline of a HUGE moose. I’ve been accidentally face to face with a black bear and that scared me less than being up close with a moose. I’m 5 foot so imagine staring up at an animal several feet taller than you that is debating charging the dog who’s leash you are holding. I was terrified as I grabbed the dog by her collar to get better control over her and backed up slowly til I was out of line of sight and bolted for the house at a dead run. Did you know most Canadian lake monster stories come from people seeing moose swimming? They are massive animals.
That thing could take a rhinoceros.
Many people have no opinion or assume octopuses are stupid, spineless creatures.
But their brains are the largest of all the invertebrates. Their neurons are massed into lobes like ours. Their brains runs on a a decentralized nervous system, two-thirds of which is distributed in the eight arms and legs.
Recent evidence shows that octopuses possess intelligence. For example, they can:
Open jars (video)
Mimic other sea creatures (video)
Did you know that when threatened, an octopus may turn white and puff up to scare the predator. It’ll then shoot ink to distract the predator and zig-zag through water to quickly camouflage itself among the coral. (Video)
In a test done by Oxford biologist N.S. Sutherland, Octopuses were given a treat if they picked one shape over the other. They soon learned that a rectangle was a rectangle no matter how it was oriented.
Octopuses proved to have excellent memory. Scientific journals have publish research papers on octopus learning, octopus personality, octopus memory. Now the octopus has even made it into the pages of the journal Consciousness and Cognition.
It’s important to note that intelligence here, is defined in a different way. It’s suited towards their conditions and environment.
#This scene makes me so sad#because above all else#above UNIT and Torchwood#and even the Doctor#SHE was a doctor#Martha Jones helped people - her passion was to heal#and save lives#and now she might be the only one who can save the universe#but at the cost of the entire planet#she’ll kill them all#and it’s the last thing that she wants to do#but it’s the only option now#so when this woman pulls the gun on her and threatens to kill her#Martha sadly nods her head and tells her to do it#because then she wouldn’t have to make this choice#and it kills me
They said you might come.(via riveralwaysknew)
oh my god martha nearly did to the earth what the doctor did to gallifrey
oh my god
This is the exact reason why I maintain my position that Martha was not, under any circumstances, the companion.
She was the doctor.
Now I know that he’s always the same man at the core after regenerations so on and so forth, but when it really boils down, the doctor isn’t a timelord, the doctor is an idea. At least in the RTD era, every companion at one point or another, has had to make the choice to become the doctor.
Rose Became the Doctor when she accepted her fate as the bad wolf.
Mickey became the doctor when he stayed in the parallel universe.
Donna became the doctor during the meta-crisis.
Jack became the doctor when he ‘died’ for the first time trying to save everyone before Rose destroyed the Daleks.
But Martha? Martha was different, Martha was special. Martha never chose to become the doctor, because that was who she always was in her heart; and substantially she was the only companion of the RTD era who didn’t need to be saved by either the timelord doctor or TARDIS intervention (in the case of Jack, seeing as it was the badwolf, who brought him back).
THAT COMMENTARY IS GORGEOUS.
Alexander Pierce + healthy villainous emotions
#I KNOW IF TUMBLR COULD IT WOULD GIVE ME NEGATIVE NOTES FOR THIS POST BECAUSE EVERYONE HATES THIS GUY SO MUCH #BUT IDK HE’S MARVELLOUS DEFINITELY THE BEST MARVEL VILLAIN YET #REALLY SHITSCARY #NO PATHOS OR BROKEN PSYCHE LIKE RONAN OR MALEKITH #NO DADDY ISSUES OR JEALOUSY OR A FACE THAT COMES OFF??? #A COLD MIND COMPLETELY IN THE GAME #LIKE IN THE THIRD GIF #THAT’S HOW YOU REACT TO AN UNEXPECTED MOVE ON THE CHESSBOARD #BUT IT’S OKAY #HE’S A MANAGER HE’S GONNA MANAGE IT HE’S GOT HIS MBA #HE KNOWS HOW THIS WORLD WORKS BECAUSE HE SHAPED IT AND YOU CAN’T OUTPLAY HIM #UNLESS YOU GIVE HIM LEAD POISONING #FROM YOUR GUN TO HIS CHEST #THAT WASN’T IT HIS MBA PROGRAM #HAHAH
And here I thought we could go without romanticizing one more white male villain smh
I would argue there is a difference between acknowledging that a character is a fantastic, multifaceted villain and romanticizing them.
Pierce is cold. He is calculating. He knows how to manipulate people into doing what he wants. He’s not afraid to use pawns and sacrifice them accordingly. God, he is an awful person. A terrible one. He’s an abuser and unapologetic and willing to take out millions of people for his vision, however fucked up that vision is, of the greater good.
Recognizing that he is one of the most terrifying villains that marvel has rolled out with does not equal romanticizing him. He’s the kind of evil that creeps up without you noticing and by the time you do it’s too late. He’s smiling as he stabs you in the back. Pierce is important because he’s the bad guy who can actually exist in the world today. There aren’t people building giant robots, there aren’t Norse gods or nazis peeling their faces off. What there are in this world are politicians in positions of power who abuse that power and nothing is more dangerous than that.
Those tags are great because if you go against Pierce in a battle of wits you WILL NOT WIN. Plain and simple. Literally the only way to stop him was pure force.
TLDR - pierce is a despicable human being but recognizing why and how he is an excellent villain for this day and age does not equal romanticizing him.
I actually just used the wrong word, I meant glorifying not romanticizing
I’d still argue though that he’s not being glorified? Everything within the post is canon.
I think everything you need to know about Pierce is in the line “the man turned down a Nobel Peace Prize.” He had literally everyone so fooled that not even NICK FURY suspected him until far too late. I’m not trying to put Pierce on a pedestal or anything like that, but he was winning at a game that no one else even knew they were playing.
Like I hate Pierce. I HATE him. Like I said, he is an abuser and a terrorist and a terrible person. But Talking about his effectiveness as a villain in context of a movie still doesn’t equal glorifying him.
For a villain to be effective, they must be the hero of their own story.
THAT’s what makes a good villain. THAT’s what makes a villain terrifying. THAT’s what makes Pierce terrifying. Because Pierce is the best villain Marvel has given us because he is real. He’s in congress; he’s leading our troops; he’s in the Senate; he’s sitting in the UN; he’s at the head of a multi-billion dollar corporation and he’s drafting laws and hey, did we forget that we already have a project insight? Because what’s the difference between the helicarriers and drones?
What makes CA: TWS such an amazing piece of storytelling is that it is absolutely a sociopolitical thriller disguised as a superhero movie. And if Pierce wasn’t the cold, smart, dispassionate, well-spoken, insidious bastard that he is, he wouldn’t be nowhere as effective. Even after Steve gives his passionate speech at the Triskelion, even when the World Security Council turns against him, Pierce still thinks he can win by spinning things his way. He absolutely believes he’s doing this for the greater good. No villain worth his screen time ever looks at the things they do and thinks ‘ah yes I am such a terrible person, doing these evil, awful and morally wrong things.’ Every single villain must absolutely think they are absolutely in the right, and the hero is their villain. Or they become stereotypes and caricatures.
Discussing the type of villain Pierce is has nothing to do with glorifying him or romanticizing him. It has everything to do with recognizing the Russos’ clever, brilliant writing, which shows us that real, true evil doesn’t need to have a red skull or an army of chitauri. Real evil exists, we are steeped in it, and we don’t even fucking know it until it’s too late.
also, don’t think for ONE INSTANT that casting Robert motherfucking Redford — All-American roguish Good (white, blond, CLONE OF CAPTAIN AMERICA) Guy Robert Redford — wasn’t possibly the most deliberate casting choice made in this movie. Robert Redford is a Good Guy, and you know it. How do you know? Why, just look at him! Look at his blond good looks! Look at his nice suit! Look how perfectly uber-American and…and…and he just LOOKS like he should be in charge, um, because he’s so. White. And Perfect. And. Rich. And uber-American and…we let those kinds of people get anything they want…oh.
Reblogging for commentary.
Alexander Pierce really is the absolute best villain Marvel’s done to date, and could well be the best they’ll every do, because of this. He’s utterly terrifying, and hits far too close to home.
If you think about it, Harry is one of the most amazing characters in the entire series, and he’s never given enough credit (strange, isn’t it, given that the entire series is about him).
- He forgave Snape and Dumbledore. I don’t know how he found it in himself to do this, because both of them treated him like shit, and didn’t really deserve his forgiveness.
- His attitude towards Pettigrew is incredible. You never find Harry as furious with Pettigrew as you think he should be. You never find him thinking about him with hatred, although he fully deserves it. Harry despises Bellatrix. He knows the difference between someone like Bellatrix and someone like Peter.
- He tries to pull Peter’s metal hand away from his throat for god’s sake.This is the man that betrayed his parents and was now working for a wizard who wants to murder him.
- He uses ‘expelliarmus’ on a death eater trying to kill him because he didn’t want to knock him off his broom.
- He even manages to find some sympathy for Voldemort. Dumbledore himself is surprised by that.
- He returns the elder wand.
- He is the one who decides to go back for Malfoy when they’re stuck in the burning room of requirement.
- He feels sorry for Malfoy when he sees to what use he’s being put by Voldemort.
And yet he doesn’t come off as an insufferable do-gooder. Rowling makes him so real. He’s jealous of Cedric and of Dean, he has blow ups with Ron, he frequently behaves like a typical obstinate teenager, he laughs at Fred and George’s jokes, he finds Hermione exasperating at times. He is the perfect hero. Moral and ethical, but not so much so that he seems like something out of a Morality Play from Medieval times.
He’s human-a flawed one, but a good one, and that’s what brings him to life, and makes us feel so fond of him.
This is a Kimono (Japanese):
This is a Hanfu (Chinese):
This is a Cheongsam (Chinese):
This is a Hanbok (Korean):
THIS POST IS IMPORTANT.
It’s interesting to note that that the garments that have a cross over style when worn correctly are all worn with the left breast over the right.That is because these countries tend to wrap right over left when they are wrapping the dead.
Tombaugh’s exploration of Pluto did not end with his death. In 2006, his ashes launched aboard the New Horizons spacecraft as it lifted off on a journey to Pluto and beyond. The craft is expected to reach Pluto in July 2015 and continue on its journey beyond our Solar System.(viaTumbleOn)
You sing along to Panic At The Disco or you hop out of my car and walk
by Fall Out Boy
if you don’t understand why this is funny, I don’t think I can explain it to you.
by Panic! At The Disco