Mrs. Dalloway Said She Would Buy The Flowers Herself

cole-escola:

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself… even after I told her not to. “Clarissa,” I said, “don’t buy the flowers, you’ll fuck it up.”

"Why? How?" She asked me.

I rolled my eyes. And I mean I ROLLED those guys. I swear to God I even made eye contact with my brain at one point. I can’t confirm that, but just know it was intense. Then I rolled them a second time because my back was turned to her the first time and I really wanted her to see. I was giving myself a foot bath in the tub and she was in the doorway behind me. When my eyes recovered from the roll they landed on her face which was expressionless. She didn’t seem to get it. To further mock her and make my point I let my tongue hang out the side of my mouth and mimed jacking off my dick. Again, she was still. This was certainly not the reaction I was hoping for. I wanted her to cry. Or go away. Hopefully both. She just stood there waiting for an answer. So I gave her one.

"You’ll buy the wrong kind of flowers, or too many, or not enough. I just don’t trust you. Let me finish washing my for-Christ’s-sake feet and then we can go into town together and both pick out the flowers. Okay?"

She stared blankly at me while I tried to assert my dominance by staring right back. At first I felt like I still wasn’t getting to her but then I realized her non-reaction was in itself very much a bold reaction. I turned away from her, muttering curses against her fat face under my breath. Things like “fuck your fat face,” and “curse your fat face to Hell,” and “face-fat fat-face piece of shit.” I can’t remember my exact words as this happened in 1978 and I was, as I mentioned in an earlier draft of this story but have since omitted, very high.

Once my feet were clean, I put on my coat and made my way to the kitchen where I expected to find Clarissa waiting for me. She wasn’t there though. She’d already gone out. She bought the flowers herself and she picked the wrong ones. The party was ruined, this country is a joke, and we’re all gonna die. All in all, it was a very good day.

To read more stories like this, write them.

(I didn’t write down the title or artist…)  Max Ernst, Gala Éluard, 1924

THANKS, ARCH! 

OMG THIS IS AN IMMEDIATE MUST WATCH. STRITCH’S BEST PERFORMANCE EVER

The Men of Arrow, Ranked

17. Island Oliver Queen

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16. Season 1 Island Baddie

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15. Robert Queen

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14. Season 2 Island Baddie

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13. Sebastian Blood

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12.. Yao Fei

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11. Deadshot

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10. Malcolm Merlyn

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9. Barry Allen

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8. Roy Harper

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7. The Count

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6. John Diggle

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5. Tommy Merlyn

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4. Walter Steele

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3. Quentin Lance

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2. Slade Wilson

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1. Oliver Queen

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The things you find when going through your bootlegs. From 2k11. Can you guess the show from the first notes of the overture?

“The “urban renaissance,” which is occurring in big cities all over the country, is a complex, painful phenomenon. Recently I read an article in the New York Times that jubilantly (and naively) celebrated the flights of blacks from the city and the influx of young, single professionals, the new mandarinate. The article was blatantly racist. One can foresee in the near future an era when the big old American cities (especially those such as New York, San Francisco, Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia and Washington that are financial centers and of historic interest) will be populated by an elite made up of the affluent young, the wealthy retired, rich foreigners and middle-class, childless couples—and gays. Only these groups will have the “disposable income” needed to afford the high rents and to patronize the chic boutiques. Living in the slums on the outskirts of these “restored” cities will be a deeply, structurally poor army of workers to maintain and service these urban centers; they are already with us, and they comprise illegal immigrants, blacks, Chicanos, Puerto Ricans and young whites unable to find better employment. As the United States moves into a “post-industrial” age and becomes the bookkeeper and technician of the world, the old, skilled, unionized labor force will be crowded out. Much of the money financing the new cities will come from European investors who regard the United States as the last bastion of capitalism.”
Edmund WhiteStates of Desire, 1980

I think we’re alone nowThere doesn’t seem to be anyone aroundI think we’re alone nowThe beating of our hearts is the only sound

I think we’re alone now
There doesn’t seem to be anyone around
I think we’re alone now
The beating of our hearts is the only sound

(Source: youtube.com)

She was in rare form on Monday night and sooo mean to Michael Musto.