Reliably contains Star Trek and cats, but it varies with the tides
we can only go on one (1) field trip this year, where do you all want to go?
natural history and science museum
history museum
art museum
botanical gardens
aquarium
space and aeronautics museum
state/country capital
national park
zoo
transportation museum
please pass this around to all of your classmates, i don’t want anyone saying they didn’t get to vote
why aren't there more mysteries that take place in nursing homes & retirement communities. i want to watch a group of deranged retirees-cum-amateur-detectives combine their powers of:
and solve crimes. this should be an enormous subgenre.
flattered that my tags passed peer review:
#their sidekick/Watson/pet hacker is a 15 year old grandkid who hangs out with gram gram on the weekends. her only power is that she has above average search engine skills and flexible knees--which is completely sufficient to round out the group's skill set.
#they involve her in heist style operations. on the rare occasion she gets caught housebreaking she explains her grandma locked herself out of the condo and asked for help getting in. then this sweet slightly addled old lady shows up and explains she got the address mixed up, it's so confusing when you're old & all the houses look alike and oh she's so sorry to have caused so much trouble!......and meanwhile the teenager is rolling her eyes bc she's aware gram gram was a highly successful career criminal & con artist for 50 years.
ANYway gimme a 80+-year-old con-artist-turned-amateur-sleuth who loves getting older because people are less suspicious of little old ladies (#this all takes place in florida naturally)
because of the many, many comments, i have now read all of the Thursday Murder Club books. I am pleased to report they are DELIGHTFUL.
if you like charming/stubborn old ladies and grumpy/shy old men who solve (and commit) crimes for fun--here you go!
(this series is also fun and poignant and contains senior citizens embracing modern values & the changing world & and basically living their best lives at 70/80+. and it's great.)
If you look closer, it mooves
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Don’t talk to me about doctor who the magicians apprentice/witch’s familiar dont you fucking EVER talk to me about it. You have one weakness and it’s your compassion for your loved ones. There is a little boy on a battlefield and you tell him you’re going to save his life because that’s what you do, you save people. Your oldest enemy who is responsible for the slaughter of your people calls out to you to tell you that he’s dying. Your oldest enemy who has known you for centuries, who is one of the only people left who has known you that long, sits down with you and talks to you and for just a moment it feels like you’re friends. Like there is something redeemable in him. It’s a trick, you’ve known it’s been a trick the whole time, and he’s going to kill you. There is a little boy on a battlefield and you know what he will become and you run away, you let him die, because what’s the alternative? Your enemy tricked you into coming here, he lied to you, but it doesn’t matter because there is always mercy. You save the little boy because he’s a little boy, even when you know what he grows up to be, and hundreds of years later the manufactured race that slaughtered your own knows what mercy is. Your enemy does not kill you because your greatest weakness, your loved ones, come to save you. I didn’t come here because I’m ashamed, a bit of shame never hurt anyone, I came because you’re sick and you asked. And sometimes on a good day, if I try very hard, I’m not some old time lord who ran away, I’m the doctor. Compassion, then. ALWAYS. It grows strong and fierce in you, like a cancer. I hope so. It will kill you in the end. I WOULDN’T DIE OF ANYTHING ELSE.
MERCY. ALWAYS MERCY. You walk the little boy home.
Fred W. McDarrah, outside the Stonewall Inn in June 1969 / queering the map / Marie Ueda, “1977 San Francisco Gay Day Parade” / Wilfred Owen to Siegfried Sassoon / the Lovers of Modena / James Schuyler to John Button / John Boskovich, "Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate" / Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf / Joan E. Biren / Saphho, Fragment 147 / @orpheuslament, “The Second Coming, or Jesus at the Gay Bar”
• An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television, getting drunk, and smoking cigars.
• A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.
• A bar was walked into by the passive voice.
• An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.
• Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
• A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.
• Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.
• A question mark walks into a bar?
• A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.
• Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Get out -- we don't serve your type."
• A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.
• A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
• Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart.
• A synonym strolls into a tavern.
• At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar -- fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.
• A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.
• Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.
• A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.
• An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.
• The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.
• A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.
• The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.
• A dyslexic walks into a bra.
• A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines.
• A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.
• A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.
• A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony
- Jill Thomas Doyle
A zeugma walked into a bar, my life and trouble.
Utterly obsessed with these Shakespeare playbook covers from the late 1960s by Paul Hogarth
