Rachel Marie Merritt

cracked:

mundy:

attentiondoozers:

chriscantwell:

thedailywhat:

Ferris Bueller Sequel of the Day: So the Ferris Bueller “sequel” that was teased last week has been unveiled in full, and it’s… an ad for Honda starring Matthew Broderick as himself.

But it does pay homage to Ferris Bueller, which is something? And it does do a great job at selling something: The certainty that no one should ever try to make a Ferris Bueller sequel.

[honda.]

THIS IS DUMB. I’M ANGRY.

This is a fucking hack waste of millions of dollars.

Who likes this horse shit?  ANSWER ME

I don’t know, guys. We just watched this and then bought a bunch of cars, so maybe this is actually fucking amazing.

Rachel Marie Merritt

hilcagonzzz:

Love you, Coco <3

Rachel Marie Merritt

theeconomist:

Our correspondent examines the practicalities of Newt Gingrich’s plan to build a colony on the moon. All things considered, it would be a rather left-wing place.

Rachel Marie Merritt

cranquis:

Humpty-Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall.

All the King’s horses and all the King’s men

Couldn’t put Humpty-Dumpty together again.

Probably because horses make lousy surgeons, due to their faulty fine-motor skills and lack of opposable thumbs.

Plus the King’s men had never heard of a sentient egg, so they must’ve assumed that the gelatinous smear of protein with fragments of crystalized calcium carbonate was just a practical yolk.

Rachel Marie Merritt

cranquis:

captain-nitrogen replied to your post: Medically-Correct Nursery Rhymes: Humpty-Dumpty

Ah, but where in the nursery rhyme does it say Humpty Dumpty was an egg? :p

Dangit, I knew that somebody would complain about the original rhyme’s lack of explicit eggitude. However, …

Rachel Marie Merritt

teamcoco:

“Here To Party” by Garyck Amtzen. [More Newt & Calista Photoshop Joy]

Rachel Marie Merritt

cranquis:

mysoulcanbreathe:

I, Katelyn, connoisseur of purple walking sticks

Have acquired a skill that many people do not need.

An ability so mastered that it comes natural to me.

Learning immediately after being under the knife for the first time.

Perfecting it after the four operations that followed.

I stealthily swim through the scholar’s safe haven hallways.

People part, like the red sea,

When they observe me crutching.

Dipping, dodging, and ducking,

Vehemently avoiding an assail from those who ignore my presence.

Clicking and clacking constantly from class to class.

Hopping haphazardly up and down harsh steps.

Resolute to conquer the stairs,

No matter how arduous they may be.

Hours and hours of trekking wear me down.

But I must be strong and press on,

Until that final bell rings and I can go to my humble abode.

Lazy and lethargic, I never want to leave my throne again.

But then the day comes when I no longer need my crutches.

That is, until the next operation happens.

Beautiful poetry about finding beauty in your illness/restriction, written by an old soul who knows of whence she writes. (And who is also one of my longest-following Cranquistadors, so you KNOW she’s fabuloso!)

Rachel Marie Merritt

cranquis:

bunichow replied to your photo: HAHA! Oh man, this thread on the Cranquis Facebook…

Hahaha, what does Mrs. Cranquis think?

Mrs. Cranquis replies: “Dr. Cranquis is incredibly unattractive, and definitely not worth fantasizing about. Nope, nothing to see here, nuh-uh. Move…

cracked:

Yep.