penfairy:

penfairy:

Imagine if you were a Christian medieval person from a small village and you had a feud with your neighbour… how annoying would it be to see them in church every Sunday? Not only are you obliged to be in the same space with them every week but you’d have to watch them receive the sacrament and have their sins forgiven even though you know damn well they don’t deserve it… and on top of that you get the priest preaching “love thy neighbour” from the pulpit, I think the fuck not, I’ll not love an unneighbourly misbegotten churl such as he, preach though thou might, father

I think I just got possessed by the ghost of a man who’s still really upset about his neighbour’s pigs eating his cabbages

yeinesomemdarre:

tetheredfeather:

thatpettyblackgirl:

This is #BlackExcellence 

!!! Omg he’s a true renaissance man !!

Please show support for Terry while he and his family are being targeted by WME, the multibillion dollar company that protects the man who assaulted him!

He claims they have hacked his computer and are stalking his family, and that if he has an “untimely accident” that we “know where to look.”

Terry is standing up as a survivor and is taking seriously dangerous heat, even the LAPD explicitly told him “these people do not play fair.” Imagine that from the damn LAPD… if they’re calling it foul play then it’s far more serious than people realize.

lpdwillwrite4coffee:

Modern Gods – Brigid

Grab the leaf of the branch from the tree in its ground
      Where these roots claim the earth, many toiled
To a land that now stands under no one’s command
         And her beauty, let no man destroy

{(No More) Paddy’s Lament – Flogging Molly}

cool irish words because why not

wildbeewitch:

beochaoineadh (bee-oh-kween-ooh): a lament for someone who has gone away but not died; “elegy for the living”

bladar (blodder): talking crap

liúdramán (loo-dra-mawn): a lazy mess of a person who really doesn’t do anything with themselves

plámás (plaw-maws): sweet-talking/flattering someone too woo them; sneaky flirting

airneánach (arr-nyan-och): someone who likes working/staying up late into the night, comes from “airneán/airneál” which is when everyone from a small village would gather in one person’s house for a late night of music and entertainment

aimliĂş (am-loo): the ruining of something after being exposed to bad weather

aduantas (ah-joon-tis): anxiety when surrounded by people you don’t know or when you’re somewhere new

crocadóir (cruck-a-door): a snake; fake person who’d sell you out if given the opportunity

saoi (see): a highly respected, wise, learned person

pléaráca (play-raw-ka): boisterous merrymaking i.e. what we call a sesh these days

asclán (ass-clawn): the amount of something that can be carried under one arm

reanglamán (rang-la-mawn): a really tall, lanky person

ragaire (rag-erra): someone who enjoys late-night wandering or talking for hours late into the night

aiteall (at-chill): the dry spell inbetween rain showers

easĂłg (ass-oag): sneaky weasel/rat; cranky/sassy bitch

dearglach (dyarg-glock): a red glow in the sky

lofa (luffa): something disgusting

plobaireacht (plub-er-acht): speaking incoherently while crying

drochdheoir (druck-yore/druck-ywee): a bad character trait inherited from one’s parents

codraisc (cud-reeshk): a random collection of worthless objects

clagarnach (cla-ger-nock): the sound of heavy rain on a rooftop

plĂłta (ploh-ta): an idiot

bunbhrĂ­ste (bun-breesh-ta): well worn but still wearable trousers

pusachán (puss-a-kawn): someone who complains too much

bogán (bug-awn): soft, unsteady ground/overcooked, mushy food/a spineless person

spréachta (spray-k-ta): electrified with anger

leannán (lan-awn): lover

bothántaíocht (buth-awn-tea-ucht): calling your neighbours to catch up on the local gossip

pocléimnigh (puck-lame-nee): jumping for joy

stríocálaí (stree-call-ee): someone who works hard but isn’t well-skilled

mo chroidhe (muh cree): darling; literally “my heart”; similar to “stór (store)”

spéirbhean (spare-van): a woman as beautiful as the sky

glumshoe:

Arthur: You know, it’s at times like this, when I’m trapped in a Vogon airlock with a man from Betelgeuse, and about to die of asphyxication in deep space that I really wish I’d listened to what my mother told me when I was young.

Ford: Why, what did she tell you?

Arthur: I don’t know, I didn’t listen.