validatemypride:

dietchola:

THERE ARE TEARS IN MY EYES

ive reblogged this like 18 times idk why I just laugh harder and harder the more I watch it

Oh well fuck you too then Sven you Cowardly Lion motherfucker.

amiiiiiiina:

su-tron:

chaaneeel:

carolinedevera:

This is the best shit ever

I laughed so hard omfg

LOLOLLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

HOLY CUNT LMFAOOOOO IM CHOKINNGGG

LOL the subtitles

Amazing.

(Source: juilan)

“It also takes A-ha’s Take On Me with far too much seriousness – which, for us, is the correct amount of seriousness.”

*hyperventilates*

*dies*

*screams “YAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!” from beyond the grave*

(via bootsthinkspace)

I’ve moaned an awful lot about Winter.

But this week he’s given me a whole load of time off work (for which, importantly, I still get paid).

So I think it’s only polite to do what I’ve done every day since things started swinging my way, and that’s to take my first beer out onto my balcony, pull the tab, and toast him.

“Cheers Winter,” I say.  “I was wrong to bitch about you.  I will try to learn from this.”

Tonight though?

I just popped out there, it’s just before 11pm here in Frozen Britain, and there was magic in the air.

I’ve got a Russian friend, Sergey, who told me about one time he went to visit a friend in the Russian Interior, in the deep North of the continent.  They went out drinking.  Outdoors.  It was minus 25 or something; the sort of temperature we here in Britain normally only see in our freezers (or at least, only saw in our freezers until tonight).  And I said to him “How could you bear to be outside for that long when it was so cold; I know you’re used to cold winters, but it’s cold outside tonight here yet it’s thirty degrees above that temperature?”

Sergey explained that it depended on the wind.  If you were in the continental interior, the air was often very still.  With no wind, you warmed the air around you, but so long as you didn’t move around too much, you didn’t lose so much heat.  And also they were drinking colossal amounts of vodka, but mainly the still air.

That’s what it’s like outside tonight.

My thermometer is reading -8.5°C, which I believe is the coldest it’s ever read.  Certainly, I can’t think of a single time I’ve been out in weather that cold.  And yet stood out there, in a tee shirt and a thin jacket, I was warm enough.

And it was beautiful.

That bit in Kill Bill at the House of Blue Leaves?  It was like that, except without the sword fighting.  And the snow on the ground is real snow, not salt.

I live next to a canal, there’s hardly any traffic out on the icy roads so that background bass noise of engines and tyres is absent, the air is motionless, and all I could hear was the gentle noise of a stream trickling into the canal.

My view is impressive, as my apartment block obscures all the street lamps.  I’m left with a very dark, very quiet scene.  A snowy tableaux.

Winter’s decoration.

And when I look up, the night sky is almost free of the sodium glare from street lamps.

I often stand there, and inform the stars that I’m coming for them (seriously, I’m going to be a little disappointed with my life if I don’t get into space eventually).

And tonight, there was a particular crispness and beauty to things.  An unparalleled clarity.  A stillness, and perfection, as though it had all been laid on specially for me.

I looked up, and saw Mars in the East, a steady orange point, brighter than any others in the sky.  Straight ahead was Ursa Major, with Polaris up and a little to my left, and Cassiopeia to my left, almost overhead.

I was feeling, I dunno, it’s hard to find the words.

It was like my acuity had been subtly enhanced.  Like the stillness was clearing my mind.

And somewhere in my brain, an idea suddenly, effortlessly, connected with another idea in a way so obvious that it should have done so much, much sooner.

I have the lyric I need.  I already had it, but had somehow put it in a memory blind spot.

I’d barely begun to process the implications of this, when right in front of me the brightest shooting star I’ve ever seen carved it’s way across the sky.  I enjoy astronomy, and I’ve seen lots of shooting stars, but this one was particularly brilliant*

*Brilliant (adj); full of light; shining intensely.

It should all have been overwhelming, but it somehow wasn’t.

It was magical.

I don’t think magic is really eye of newt and wing of bat.  I’m far more inclined towards the Arthur C Clarke idea; “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” I think it’s when a bunch of things all start to line up in just the right way as to make something happen.

I talked at the start of this post about things swinging my way.  So far, this year has really started out feeling like a lot of bits and pieces I’ve been putting together are finally slotting into place.

I feel like this year could be an important one for me.

And tonight, stood out in the coldest weather I can ever remember experiencing, in clothing that wasn’t really suitable but was somehow keeping me warm, in a scene of the sort of delicate, stark beauty only Winter can provide, our nearest planetary neighbour shining down on me, backed up by the bright swath of the galaxy, my brain suddenly hyper-connected and solving my creative problems as though they were child’s play, as the sky let off a firework for me, I felt the magic.

I felt the magic.