ArtieShaw

I’d like to see it in real life. It’s what my art history lecturer called an entire ancient genre of art: “boobs on a stick.”

Not entirely accurately in this case, but I can see the connection.

I suspect that if you just call them bison they won’t have any beef with you.

Thundercats! Not great, for sure, but I remember that the same weaknesses were still there in the 80s

Snarf was always insufferable. My idiot brother and I hated Snarf. Why was he not humanoid like the other Thundercats? Why was he a ripoff of Lost-In-Space’s Doctor Smith? Why did he have weird crocodilian qualities? “snarf snarf”

Liono was just one dimensionally dumb. Kit and Kat were clearly there for the littler kids to relate to.

Tigra and Panthro were solid dudes. Cheetara and Pumyra were the closest thing to making me question my sexuality at a tender age. Mumm-ra was great - he had a nice pyramid and flying wrappers. Mumm-ra’s henchmen have probably aged the worst.

The actor cat who played Lucky was pretty chill, but ALF was pretty insistent upon telling the family that he wanted to indulge in some tasty cat recipes. It didn’t feel violent or real. Just silly. I haven’t seen the show since 1989, but that screenshot seems dead on balls accurate.

My best girl is really into being petted while standing in a bathtub or shower. No water. She’s done this since she was a kitten. Like Kika, she’ll lure you to the spot for petting, then meow until you and she are both standing in the tub and she’s getting pets.

Two different houses and three different tubs are involved here.

I sometimes wonder if it’s related to the time I had to give her a bath when we first took her in as a stray. She was weak and underfed, and had a bad case of fleas. I gave her a bath, which she hated and I hated - but when she hit the water you could see blood in her fur from all the flea bites. Poor kitty. It was probably the first time a human had given her much attention. And it helped with the fleas, so she probably felt much better afterwards.

Sometimes I tell myself that she’s trying to tell me she’s still grateful for that, and that she trusts me.

Or else she’s just a weirdo. I’m fine with either.

Easy. It’s a dried and shellacked squid that has been posed in an artful, somehow bipedal and menacing position. I call it the creeping horror and keep it in an old wooden box.

Not really my taste, but it was a gift.

To add on. Some of the trust fund babies I knew in college shoplifted Wet ‘n’ Wild cosmetics. For context, these were lipsticks and nail polishes that cost $1 each. It wasn’t so much the financial aspect of it as it was the allure of petty illegality. I guess?

Oh - and if RFK was whining about “crystals growing” inside that straw, he was smoking that cocaine.

That looks amazing.

This is so goddamn exhausting.

Thirty years ago I was reading poorly photostatted (sic) fliers at the local record shop explaining the difference between Nazis with red shoelaces and Nazis with yellow shoelaces. It was exhausting then, too. They’re all basic bitch Nazis. Treat them the same way you would treat a potentially harmful arthropod, like a scorpion. You don’t have to be a fucking entomologist to understand this shit.

Shun the Nazi. Leave it alone. Don’t ask for help from Nazis.

Oh no. I feel that. Back when ipods were a thing, I liked to call it my husband’s “tiny radio.” Particularly on planes, with lots of captive listeners.

But I was mainly torturing him.

It’s OK - he does similar shit to me. 30 years and counting…