cryoverkiltmilk:

squeeful:

ineptshieldmaid:

marzipanandminutiae:

feels-for-the-fictional:

satanpositive:

Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue.

I have been waiting for this post all my life.

They are indeed purple,
But one thing you’ve missed:
The concept of “purple”
Didn’t always exist.

Some cultures lack names
For a color, you see.
Hence good old Homer
And his “wine-dark sea.”

A usage so quaint,
A phrasing so old,
For verses of romance
Is sheer fucking gold.

So roses are red.
Violets once were called blue.
I’m hugely pedantic
But what else is new?

My friend you’re not wrong
About Homer’s wine-ey sea!
Colours are a matter
Of cultural contingency;

Words are in flux
And meanings they drift
But the word purple
You’ve given short shrift.

The concept of purple,
My friends, is old
And refers to a pigment
once precious as gold.

By crushing up molluscs
From the wine-dark sea
You make a dye:
Imperial decree

Meant that in Rome,
to wear purpura
was a privilege reserved

For only the emperor!

The word ‘purple’,
for clothes so fancy,
Entered English
By the ninth century

.

Why then are voilets
Not purple in song?
The dye from this mollusc,
known for so long

Is almost magenta;
More red than blue.
The concept of purple
is old, and yet new.

The dye is red,
So this might be true:
Roses are purple
And violets are blue

.

While this song makes me merry,
Tyrian purple dyes many a hue
From magenta to berry
And a true purple too.

But fun as it is to watch this poetic race
The answer is staring you right in the face:
Roses are red and violets are blue
Because nothing fucking rhymes with purple.

Originally posted by enjoythebits

elvensemi:

elvensemi:

elvensemi:

Does anyone else have that one friend whose sleep schedule is like an ever-evolving mystery? One day they’ll appear to be asleep for the entire 16 hours that you’re awake, but the next three they won’t appear to actually sleep at all. Sometimes they appear to be on Australian time, other times their schedule has adjusted to somewhere in the middle of the Pacific ocean. (I call this Cthulhu time.) You go a week without seeing them and you have no idea if they’re just really busy, dead, or if their sleep has simply synced up to the exact hours you’re awake and online. The only indication that they’re still in this mortal coil is vague posts about grocery shopping that pop up on their blogs at 4:12AM. 

I’m horrified at myself because I randomly decided on 4:12AM for an obscure and horrible hour in the morning, but after I posted I glanced down at the clock and 

did i just vaguepost about myself

There are two things I love about this post: 

• the number of people who are, with apologies, That Friend
  
• the fact it keeps getting splorts of notes every day at 4:12am
  

pugsandshrugs:

So why do you think you are suited to this position?

What are your achievements so far?

What are your ambitions. in reference previous education and work history?

bverdy:

‘warm up’ is a fancy word we artists use to describe a drawing we did in order to put off the drawing we were supposed to be doing. 

arabwife:

me: *is overwhelmed by things i absolutely have the time to do*

arabwife:

me: *is overwhelmed by things i absolutely have the time to do*