#by tinpan

[satussy]

by tinpan

If but some vengeful god would call to me From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing, Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy, that thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"

Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die, Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited; Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.

#satosugu #satoru gojo #suguru geto #stsg #jjk season 2 #jujutsu kaisen

[daddyscans]

Life is but a Dream

By Tinpan Buy a copy

Grab your crusty fleshlight and pull down your shitstained underwear, Daddy's sluts have delivered wankworthy blight. Clench your cockstarved hole, cum and despair!

(੭ु ›ω‹ )੭ु⁾⁾♡ START CUMMING AND CRYING!

Lick off your precum and REQUEST ACCESS to the fuck-tier translation! (∿°○°)∿♡

#satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #my one and only analslut

[breachverse]

Let me just say, the achievement names for Chicago War Zone are INCREDIBLE. Really gave some new insight into the characters, and their respective romances. Not to mention the songs picked are just downright bangers. It'd be sick if you could list the artists as some songs are harder to find, such as "Love is a Dog" and "Dark was the Night" (whichifthatistheWW2songimthinkingof,megapropstoyou). But that aside, hit it out the park. Can't wait for the next update, and hope y'all are doing well!

I'm glad you're enjoying the achievement names! It actually look me quite a long while to figure out the perfect song for each character. I even ended up making a spotify playlist for each of them in the Breach Discord.

But, for the achievements, they are:

For Mouse - Television - You Won't

As well as - Who Knew - You Won't

For Hayne - Heaven Is a Chandelier - Ezra Bell

For Anna - Killer Queen - Queen

For Charlie - Break on Through (To the Other Side) - The Doors

For Justin - Cardboard Castles - Watsky

For Carly - She's A Rainbow - The Rolling Stones

For Kaz - Love Is A Dog - Tinpan Orange

For Rook - Lonely Boy - The Black Keys

For Gabriel - Behind Blue Eyes - The Who and Limp Bizkit version

For Raquel - Dark was the night - Blind Willie Johnson (Not the soviet WW2 song 😅, but, this was also a WW2 song, and is currently one of the many songs on Voyager 1's golden record, currently voyaging through deep space)

For Michael - The Masochism Tango - Tom Lehrer

For Letterman - (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear - Elvis Presley

For Collins - Daydream Believer - The Monkees

For Salazar - Electric Light Orchestra - Mr. Blue Sky

For Reville - The Rolling Stones - Sympathy For The Devil

For Megan - Queen - Seven Seas Of Rhye

For Mio - Jefferson Airplane - White Rabbit

.... okay, that took awhile, wow.

#breachverse #breachverse ask #breach: the archangel job #breach:the archangel job #btaj #breach: chicago warzone #bcwz

[bacchanal-if]

Hello author! Do any songs remind you of the characters/game setting?

Putting this under the nsfw tag because these songs are pretty racy.

Fox: Because the Night - Patti Smith The Killing Moon - Echo & the Bunnymen Take My Breath Away - Berlin I Melt With You - Modern English Lips Like Sugar - Echo & the Bunnymen

Rabbit: Te Guardo - Silvana Estrada Under the Milky Way - The Church Something Changed - Pulp Black Water - Timber Timbre Imagination - Clan of Xymox

Butterfly: Little Drop Of Poison - Tom Waits Bend Your Mind - Elysian Fields Need You Tonight - INXS Evelyn - Clan of Xymox Rosy Path - Elysian Fields

The Uninvited Guest: Lose Your Soul - Dead Man's Bones Stripped - Depeche Mode Rev 22:20 - Puscifer Cherry Blood - Miss Cherry Delight Venus in Furs - Ängie

Edith/Edward: Soothe My Soul - Depeche Mode Little Red Riding Hood - Sam The Sham & The Pharoahs Red Right Hand - Tim Barton Rich Man - Tinpan Orange Strangelove - Depeche Mode

Tamsin/Thomas: Into Black - Blouse Lavender Moon - Haroula Rose Rockin' Back Inside My Heart - Julee Cruise Cherry - Lana Del Rey Stolen Roses - Karen Elson

As for the game, really just anything from the time period!

#answered #ro: all #i like sad/goth music ok #and 80s love ballads because they're ridiculous #idk what to tell you #music #bacchus approves

[thewestern]

Chapter 16

Driving back over the bridge, the murky brown water beneath was running low and slow to merely a trickle. When they were just a couple of pequenitos, Kitty and her brother used to splash about in the backwater pools of that pathetic excuse for a waterway. Little kids still played there but Kitty thought they were loco to do so. Que agua tan sucia. What with the discarded rubbish — bottles, cans, syringes — bobbing downstream. The poor children — los hijos pobres — wading in gore. Some Monday evenings she would join the Newfy Run Club for a jog along the pedestrian pathway that ran parallel to the westernmost bank, the length of downtown. For their part, the NRC had about a five-kilometer loop, starting and ending at the green awning. There was the option to stretch the route to ten kilometers, although Kitty seldom did. She ran two years of cross country at West High, but even then running was something she could only tolerate. And only to a point. Never one past some threshold of fatigue and pain into one supposedly of euphoria. Runners’ High. As if. Then again, the serial marathoner types in the Monday-night crew sure seemed to be getting off on something. Likely of their own supply. Jogging amongst hobbyists the likes of Kitty, they fancied themselves to be Endurance Athletes. What a bunch of sickos. Fitness tracking every step they took, every breath, every heartbeat. All kitted out in the latest in moisture-wicking synthetic fabrics. Meanwhile Mick’s hand-me-down NFBC tees, which Kitty wore exclusively for exercise and sleep, seemed designed specifically to be moisture-absorbent. Particularly in that heathered gray color, which accentuated the outline of your perspiration just so. Like a Rorschach test of boob sweat. To match, not unlike Michael Jordan, Kitty still hoarded her thread-bare shorts from high school, team-issue, with the little block arrow running through the WHCC, although she’d been meaning to toss those. They were looking a little ratchet, in her words (that she pronounced in the French, ra_shay). Maybe then this Christmas she’d ask Mick for new workout clothes.  

  The bridge was built a good ways up there, high enough to accommodate any underpassing vessel, ironically. Reason being, back when the city was just a tinpan camp for dusty old prospectors, the major land-havers and other boosters would print up these brochures for sending back east, hyping up the city as a desirable frontier destination. A Pearl on the Plains. Good quality of life, great schools, etc. As for its viability as a hub for commerce, since transcontinental rail didn’t exist yet, one of the main selling points was this river that passed right through town. Their copy claimed it was quite a a strong current indeed, as wide, or even wider in stretches than the Mighty Mississipp’. In no time at all there’d be a veritable armada running up and down-stream, shipping all manner of pelts, hides and other wares.

Well that was a fucking lie. Water wasn’t hardly deep enough to accommodate Hank’s kayak, never mind Steamboat fucking Willie. Hell, it was shallow enough Kitty could probably ford that sorry excuse for a creek in her station wagon. Like that old computer game she could vaguely remember playing in the computer lab, where she would seclude herself most recesses. Everyone in your party has died, the screen’d say in that eight-bit font when your simulated river crossing failed, either on account of the riverbed was too muddy and you got stuck, or maybe you tried to float it, but the wagon was overloaded with supplies and it capsized. Could have been any number of reasons how come you and your people came to perish, never mind whether it were you made it to t’other side of that crick. Dysentery and cholera being chief among them. That means shitting yourself to death, basically. But also there was typhoid, measles, getting bit by a snake. For a fact, one in ten of those folks who set off on that westbound trail didn’t make their destination. Hey, speaketh of which, you ever have that funny feeling that you want to swerve off the side of a bridge, crashing through the guardrail, airborne just long enough to reckon with the fact of you’re falling, have that awful, albeit life-affirming sensation of your stomach lurching its way up out of your throat, the one you only get on top of a rollercoaster or before your first kiss in the planetarium; to have that feeling one final time, before your station wagon hits the water, slamming against the surface tension like it’s a fucking brick wall, killing you instantly on impact of blunt force trauma or a spinal cord rupture, or at least knocking you unconcsious to the extent that you drown comparatively peacefully, or preferably, so that you may go out in a blaze of glory, and since the water here is hardly deep enough anyway, the car explodes into a massive fireball upon the jagged rocks below? 

Yea, Kitty neither. 

Zeke was likewise looking out over the bridge, just thinking. It bears mention that this was no average bridge. It was a brand-spanking new suspension bridge the city had just erected. (Just a few short years after civil engineers had determined its predecessor to be on the verge of collapse.) This as part of a massive transportation infrastructure, overhaul funded through Mayor Mockingbird’s public bond package, the signature (and sole) legislative achievement of his first term. That was what he ran on. More bridges, tunnels, lanes and roads. For to get you to work more faster. Zeke too. About on the hour, almost every hour, right over top of this great big new bridge, this monument to the Mayor’s executive virility, traveled the Number Ten bus. Of all the five busses he took in total getting to and fro the brewery, The Ten was the by far sketchiest. Maybe because it emanated from the downtown station — a central gathering place for fringe types. But also because the bus itself was old and sad and decrepit. All the seat cushions — if you could call them that, they were so worn down — had been upholstered in a very seventies plaid, of whose crisscrossing colors — oranges, yellows and browns — had faded underneath god only-knows how many coats of fermented bodily fluids. (Perhaps that was how come they chose that rather unfortunate palette. For to camouflage the phlegm.) On that leg of the commute, Zeke elected to stand. 

Hitching a ride in Kitty’s car then was far more comfortable. Even if the back seat was considerably cramped for a fella his size, it was still downright spacious when compared to the Ten Bus at rush hour. Good thing then he rode mostly during off-peak times, although his fellow passengers on the pink eye could be a somewhat poorly lot. Grace’s recent antics notwithstanding, this was a much more civilized traveling party. Nobody was using Kitty’s station wagon as a toilet, for example. Although by now she was getting damn close. She’d have used the bathroom unit on the way out of #x_brüing but the line was still too damn long. Mick about pissed himself just looking at it, and he hadn’t even had to go. 

Come to think of, Zeke had noticed Kitty was driving a fair bit faster on the return trip. Although with her lead foot, he was in capable hands. Always at ten and two, pulling up to school at precisely ten of eight and not a moment sooner. Partly because the Mick would often make a big production out of breakfast — steel cut oatmeal garnished with seasonal berries and nuts, five-cheese omelets with garden-fresh veggies and hand-foraged mushrooms, fucking challah bread french toast and bacon. The latter or some other confection only on occasions that he deemed to be special. Not an especially high bar to clear. An average Tuesday could qualify if he’d been as such inclined. 

Burning rubber into the faculty lot with a belly full of eggs benny, Kitty couldn’t help but notice all the fancy foreign cars. How in the world could her colleagues possibly afford these on a teacher’s salary? Was she managing her and Mick’s money poorly? Were they spending too much on breakfast foods? Now she was feeling self-conscious. And doubly so, she was feeling self-conscious About feeling self-conscious. That was a feeling she felt all too increasingly of late. Get a grip, girl. Who cares? Probably they had significant others who were doctors or lawyers or something. Multi-car families. Zeke had always been in a zero-car family, unless you count his uncle’s panel van that he split with his brother for going on jobs. On the side, they printed DRYWALL, above a number for a beeper, which they also shared. 

Zeke’s phone buzzed. 

From: Mayor Lawrence Mockingbird for Governor ([email protected]) 

Subject: I Need You [Pointing emoji]

Preview: Yes, Ezekiel. I need You. You specifically … 

Whoa. Wait a second. For a moment there Zeke really thought the Mayor was reaching out to personally seek his council on a matter of urgent city business. Something so important that he used his given name. Then he opened the email and right there at the top was a big blue button marked Click to DONATE. Turned out to be an invitation to an upcoming Young Professionals fundraiser at #x_brüing. Zeke didn’t much consider himself a young professional. For one thing, he hadn’t conducted a lot of official business on this his work email. Really he hardly received any messages at all, unless of course you counted Thadeus and Louisa copying the entire Newfy staff plus Kitty on their interminable back-and-forth thread of idle threats, essentially an online extension of their IRL quarreling, annotated with hyperlinks to viral videos of backyard bare-knuckle boxing matches and people being attacked by wild animals. 

All which begs the question, why would the mayor ask Zeke for money? He didn’t have any. Like didn’t he — the mayor — know the second richest person in the world? He should hit up that guy. 

It was for this reason that the Mick was most happy to pass his old new phone down to Zeke. That he hated having correspondences delivered to his pocket. All the day long, it would tremor at his right hip. The lawyers. The contractor. The bank. The lawyer again, reaching out on behalf of the contractors, cc’ing the bank. The detective from the Parks Service. The Council of Brewers. (D-d-d-douchebags.) The lawyer, two more times. Everybody wants something he doesn’t got.  

And all these inbound inquiries to his work address, the mick at newfybrew dot com, those weren’t even counting the emails related to his actual job. Although those he could mostly ignore with reckless abandon. The obscure brewing industry vendors shamelessly attempting to upsell the latest and greatest in craft beer innovation. Are you getting the absolute most out of your glycol chilling units? Have you serviced your brewing equipment with the highest-performance food-grade lubricants? What does malt Mean to you? Not exactly the questions that keep you up at night. 

However, even if the electronic solicitations were only a minor nuisance, the reviews … well, those he did lose sleep over. Oh, how he hated the fucking reviews. If the Mick could rate reviews, he would give them zero stars. Fervently he believed that one day we would all reflect on them — these online reviews — as something we wish we could un-invent, paraphrasing Nicholas Cage in his favorite movie, The Rock. 

(As justification for the United States invading Iraq [this for the second time … unlike The Rock, Desert Storm — the far inferior Michael Bay movie — got a sequel], Bush Administration officials cited intelligence reports that Sadaam Hussein was rapidly accelerating a chemical weapons program. Among their expanding capabilities was said to be a skin-melting gaseous agent, packaged in spherical glass containers that were strung together like killer Christmas lights. Turns out, not only did all the Intelligence about that camel fucker’s supposed arsenal of WMDs turn out to be totally bogus, but that specific fantasy about the anal beads filled with flesh-eating gas … well that was taken straight from a Hollywood film: The motherfucking Rock, starring none other than Nic motherfucking Cage.) 

Let‘s for a second consider the personal ramifications of these Reviews, from the Mick’s perspective. Okay. So every time some dickhead wanders into the bar and has even a modicum of an opinion about his or her experience — be it positive, or let’s be honest, it was definitely negative — he or she may now dictate that proto-though, stream of fucking consciousness, into the Cloud, wherefrom instantaneously thereafter it is beamed from that person’s fat fingers, off a satellite somewhere in goddamn outer space, back down to wherever on planet earth the Mick happened to be at that given moment, quite often on the the toilet, at which point his mobile phone would begin to seizure uncontrollably, alerting him via email notification settings that he does not know how to modify. 

Then the Mick is rendered this review, a final judgement that is arrived at through no semblance of due process, nor is it subject thereafter to any appellate procedure. Nonetheless, it ascribes to him a numeric rating which is inscribed on the Internet in digital ink for all time. A jury of your peer has found you guilty on two counts of felony pouring too much foam, and three counts of it being too loud in here. The honourable judge Doug F. of Sacramento sentences you to one of five stars. [Bangs gavel.]

Having that hanging over your head at all times … well, it was existential dread-inducing, even for the most self-assured of service industry professionals. 

Funnily enough though, it was the rare positive feedback that would really get his goat, even moreso than the garden variety vitriol. Regarding the latter, it was easy to be dismissive. Like, fuck ‘em, you know? Bunch of entitled assholes. You’re a one-star person. How do you like that? 

(You might expect Thadeus and Lousia to have received their fair share of unfavourable reviews. Not the case. They were merely ever mentioned. The Mick thought it was for fear of retribution.)

But, as for the positive feedback, the full-throated recommendations, the unabashed praise … well, that was something else entirely. Something which the Mick could never quite get his head around. Like, what’s your angle? Were you so blown away by the Black Hole Imperial Stout (the Mick wanted to call it Horse Fucker, after Catherine the Great, but Hank would not abide despite also his being a history buff), and the atmosphere in which you consumed it, to the extent you felt compelled to crank out five hundred words? What, on the transcendence of that experience? Why, exactly? Out of the goodness of your heart? For the civilizing arts of commerce? Sorry, bud. I don’t buy it. Say what you will about the morality of our American tipping culture. But, hey, that’s cash in my pocket. U.S. dollars, kimosabe. Your money spends. Your opinions? Opinions are like assholes, Cliff used to say. And this time the Mick remembered why. Because everybody’s got one. Yep. 

The worse he was for it, the Mick read every solitary last one of those reviews. He’d drop whatever he was doing too to do so. When he had that phone, with the email on it? Forget about it. He could be lain wide awake next to Kitty in their marital bed, her dreaming peacefully, him getting all the wrong kinds of riled up, scrolling like there’d be no tomorrow. Then after that you know he couldn’t fall back asleep for fuck all, so he’d have to digitally detox himself. For that he liked reading the show reviews on the online forum, phish dot net … get it? Now you’re thinking, what makes these reviews any better than t’others? He couldn’t tell you why. Just that he liked these ones. 

He never could bring himself to post his own, though, for the handful of shows he had attended in person. The Mick (username: llambic1900) was what you would call a Lurker in the parlance of message board culture. He would read these cryptic entries and feel somewhat apart, even though he knew all the etymology, the historiography, the symbology,— all of the -ologies, of which these forums were chalk fucking full. For better or for worse, that was a big part of being a Phish fan. Homework. Have you done the reading? Just kidding. Because life’s this big cosmic joke. But it’s an inside joke. And you get it, man. You do. 

Whereas, and pardon the generalization here, a Grateful Dead fan looked at life like this big cosmic mystery. Sure, there were laughs along the way, but this shit was serious. No fucking clever puns, cryptid clues in a Sunday show crossword puzzle. Rather, it was a magic riddle. And only in listening layeth the answer. The truth that would gain you passage to the other side.   

Anyways, that was one thing he missed not having on the old flippy phone. Reading Phish reviews in bed. Raging against the blue light as it strained his tired eyes.  Also, it was convenient, being able to look up the weather. And getting directions to places on the GPS. That’d been handy. Lately he had to go back to printing them off Hank’s computer, which now seemed burdensome beyond belief. 

Currently, on the car ride back from his do-si-do with Dandy Jim (no need for maps — didn’t matter where in the world he was, he knew the way back to the brewery by heart, like a lost dog finding his way home), the Mick was cleansing his ear pallet from that Frankenstein’s fucking monster of a mashup. Good thing he had just the sonic sorbet: Phish. 2010 Late Summer Tour. 6 August 2010, William Randolph Hearst Greek Theater, Berkeley. Help me, oh kee pah. You’re my only hope. Kitty always got a kick out of the way he would carry his CD binder and brewer’s notebook back and forth between the bar and her station wagon, like the old car stereos you would remove from the dash to prevent their being stolen. When they made a pit stop he was dillegent about hiding them beneath the passenger seat. Imagine a desperate car thief’s surprise, upon smashing out the passenger’s side window to this absolute beater, to find a decade’s-worth of beer recipes and twice that’s-worth of concert bootlegs.

Including Phish at the Greek, the subject of eleven show reviews posted to the online forum. One prolific poster, known by the username, waxbanks (criticism =/= cynicism, or so his bio reads), writes: 

Yes, Trey absolutely *butchers* the Ghost > Mike's 'transition,' pointing to a worrying trend in Phish's music, an apprehensiveness or impatience on Trey's part, far removed from the patient and generous playing throughout the rest of the show. The sudden insertion of Mike's Song into the winning Ghost jam is a clunker on par with the 2009 Hartford DWD > Wilson. Ugh. But the rest of the second set approaches perfection. And you can't get There without passing through the points between There and Here…

Fuckin' a. 

Not unlike Trey in the first part of the second set, something was definitely off with Kitty. That much the Mick could tell. There had been since everything popped off yesterday. That could explain things. She corrected him when he brought up Hank’s Funeral at the breakfast table, where her Belgian waffle was getting cold. 

It’s not a funeral because there is no Hank. And because it’s at a bar. 

So what? We got married in a bar, Mick thought. That bar, actually. But he didn’t start, and off she went to school. Hank had always said they didn’t fight enough, that fighting was a healthy part of relationships, within reason. But then again what did he know.    

Maybe it was that her new job had something to do with it. Kind of got the feeling the bloom was falling off the rose on that one. Even before accepting the offer, she was acting unsure of herself in a very uncharacteristically Kitty way, about leaving West. Of course he was supportive, but the way they talked about it, Mick got the impression that she wanted something more out of him. Like permission. Or was it the opposite? That he would forbid her from taking this great opportunity at the fancy new school with a modest increase in pay. Why she would desire either was a mystery to him.  

Suppose then of course he could fucking well ask, suggests Hank’s ghost, getting in people’s business beyond the fucking grave.

In any event, they hadn’t made it anywhere’s near the second set. Unless you were on some kind of road trip, in the car you were lucky to finish one, maybe two songs, traffic pending. Keep in mind these are ten, fifteen, twenty-minute opuses we’re talking about here. No fucking top forty radio edit. Don’t bore us, get to the chorus? Get lost. For a fact, these aren’t even songs. Not in that way. They’re more like maps … to buried treasure. Fucking ancient scrolls. It’s no wonder then fans treat them like scholarly texts, worthy of being categorized and analysed. When Rome inevitably burns, these natural histories will be all that remains. 

Of track five, the one they were enjoying at present, username Jmart exclaims to posterity: this jam is the shit … one of my absolute favorites from Three-Point-Oh. 

The Mick wouldn’t trifle with that assessment one bit. 

Did I forget to mention, to mention Memphis

Home of Elvis and the ancient Greeks

Do I smell? I smell home cooking

It's only the river, it's only the river.

Grace slept. 

#novls of tumblr #the rock

[brainrot-yumm]

PR ep 3 play-by-play

hellow I’m back and this time I’m here at the slightly more reasonable hour of 2:30 am. I’m taking my ton now and hopefully by the time this is over I’ll be ready to sleep

oh but first I gotta set up an artfight character. It takes such a long time to load and this is the super good laptop that can handle VRchat without exploding

alright that was 20 minutes of my time letsa go

alright oh boy uhm. Where does the junk you guys put in the dumpsite gonna go when you close the dumpsite?

alright now I genuinely think Rita’s lines are voiced over because she lives with people in suits and it was easier/cheaper to just record all of the lines perfectly off-site and then just have the human act like a person in a suit along with everyone else

alright the last one was a definite lie but the first two I would trust even if they were excuses. You threw this on them today, no schedule preparation. Don’t feel bad they don’t go with yall

I’m getting terrible flashbacks to my favorite YA book ever about the environment (The Crazy Things Girls Do For Love by Dyan Sheldon) with all this “throwing litter and generally physically assaulting random people” stuff

also it kind of sucks that the girls aren’t allowed to really Power Rangers the heck out of these definitely deserving bullies besides “Gymnastics them into kissing(?)” but I’ll accept all I can get

wait who the hell is this woman?? Didn’t see her name next to Bulk and Skull??!?!?!?

when was it stated that Rita knew the Rangers by name. Like it’s one thing to have beef with a superhero but entirely another to have beef with 16 year olds completely knowingly and willingly. Tell their parents. Tell the school. Make them praised socially but demolish their live as rangers

“This is the grossest place ever” and there’s just one plank of wood on the ground

god it would actually be terrifying to be a 16 year old girl attacked by multiple weird porcelain things. Like they grabbed her hair and everything. The true horror of womanhood (/jk if this happened to me I would break down bawling and the putties would have no choice but to stop fighting but sit down and console me)

oh dang the alpha one wasn’t a lie

two monsters holy shit 

the cut from “oh so big” to “normal minotaur guy walking towards us”

THE TOY OBVIOUSLY ON A LINE JUST WOOSHING PAST I CANT

wait they just dipped?!?!

oh the power weapons are so definitely foam

oh the power weapons are so COOL

btw it was so nice for the minotaur to go back to normal just so they could kick his ass

Alpha is Tinpan’s child. If you don’t understand what that means you do not know the lore that is the Youtubers I’m way too invested in

kay gniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight 

#Blumi's PRPBP

[bazilisk]

Enjoyable Songs new to S.B. Kates - December 2022

This month's playlist starts out very relaxed, before it gets sad and emotional, eventually turning into an intense, sweaty rave. This month the genres are mostly indie pop, synth pop, and electronic music.

These are all songs which are new to me this month, which I enjoyed. They're not all actually new releases - some older tracks end up in here if I haven't heard them before this month.

Fireside - John Mark Nelson, Tancred, & Jenny Owen Youngs - I can't ignore the season. Merry worst-season-of-the-year to you. At least firelight is pretty, like this sparkling song.

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball - Arctic Monkeys - I mostly like the title and the chorus. Can we at least have a Disco if we're both getting miserable? Fits the real vibes of winter for me.

Casual - Chappel Roan - This month's lyrical theme is apparently relationship problems. This story about a greedy partner who wants things 'casual' but who is clearly using the girlfriend for one-sided emotional support sounds like a story I've seen in real life before.

Unconditional - Magdalena Bay - Listening to the album this track is on is like splashing into a pool lit by pastel lights during a weed-scented party. Vaporwave must never die.

God Turn Me Into a Flower - Weyes Blood - I just found this artist this week, and dove into her whole catalog. I feel foolish for missing out on her. Reminds me of what I love about Joni Mitchell, but more relaxed.

666 - Jeremy Messersmith - the party is starting to get more lively, now that the perpetually late Satanists show up. They brought hummus! And instrumentals that remind me of The Squirrel Nut Zippers' anachronistic smorgasbord.

Joy - Mikey Mike - I connected to this one based on its lyrics about the choice of going into parenthood, a topic that's been on my mind lately.

Smoking Weed Alone - Tegan and Sara - Repetitive, exhausted verses about the fatigue and emotional exhaustion of a thoughtful, melancholy breakup. Check this whole album out.

Bejeweled - Taylor Swift - I tried to get into Taylor Swift last year, but I ran into a shallow distaste of the country music genre. It's a musical milieu I just have little connection to. This album seems to be more in the style of synth-pop, which I relate to much more. The mobile game sound effects of this track charmed me.

Raspberry Blush - Chromeo - A new entry from my favorite living synthpop duo. Still funky and sweet after all these years.

Baby Powder - Bandingo Ygne - if you've ever wondered whether or not "Hello! Ma Baby", a tinpan alley song written in 1899, could be sampled as the base of a modern hiphop track, here is your answer.

Slaughter House - Phonkha & zecki - get out the glowsticks, and put on your stompy industrial-goth boots, it's time to experience a crunchy, hard-hitting EBM track that's been making the rounds in various remixes on TikTok.

Tibet - Artbat, Argy & Zafrir - The Monk Chant Dance Track Trend Continues in this trance song. Feel the fake spirituality wash over your internet-cursed brain.

Dance With Me - Sunny Lax - an uplifting vocal trance track that reminds me of the summers and dance floors of simpler times.

Off the Ground - Sub Focus - This track is an example of exactly what I love about great trance songs. It makes me feel like I'm floating upwards under my own power. I can NOT sit still when I hear the break.

GMT (Jamie xx Remix) - Oliver Sim & Jamie xx - a house song, which slowly builds around a lonesome vocal. Long distance relationships are so hard. Did you think we were done with sad relationship songs back in the indie pop section?

#John Mark Nelson #Tancred #Jenny Owen Youngs #arctic monkeys #Chappel Roan #magdalena bay #Weyes Blood #Jeremy Messersmith #Mikey Mike #Tegan and Sara #taylor swift #chromeo #synthpop #vaporwave #Bandingo Ygne #Slaughter House - Phonkha & zecki #Phonkha & zecki #Phonkha #zecki #Artbat #Argy & Zafrir #Argy #Zafrir #monk chants #chantcore #chantcore should be a new genre lets get it started folks #sunny lax #trance #edm #ebm

[selectshop-yamatoya]

いよいよ明日は楽市楽座！ たくさんのお越しを お待ちしています！ ・出店18店舗 小沼酒店 @onuma_liquor_store 眞好味 @makomi0906 串仲 @kushinaka1111 tinpanキッチン @tinpankitchen クアハウス山小屋 @kuakua.y 靴のヨリズミ @kutsunoyorizumi1925 Sunny-on @sunny_on_2020 Salon de RAM @salonderam 花呉装 @hanagoshou ワミレスサロン伊勢原 @7279shineplace pocopoco @1986pocopoco 加藤花園 @katokaen オオヤマン @ooyaman_offl 大山きっちん @ooyama.kitchen スタジオローカヒ @studiolokahi 片野施設園芸 #片野さんちのとまと ヤマナカ農園 #地産地消野菜 isefornia @isefornia.style.standard ・面白いワークショップ ・ハロウインコスチューム 　コンテスト ・キッズのおもちゃ ・利き酒大会 盛りだくさんで開催です‼️ 当店は、 @isehara_bluehands_project と一緒に藍染めワークショップを開催します。 着なくなってきたTシャツをお持ち寄りください。 藍染めにてリユースしましょう‼️ また、イセフォルニアアイテムから限定のミニトートバッグを販売します。 そのまま使っても良し！ 藍染めしてオリジナルにしても良し！ 長財布が横にスッポリの使いやすいサイズ感。 イセフォルニア ロゴも4種類から選べます。 コレはゲットだぜぇw #楽市楽座 #伊勢原 #いせはら #大山 #伊勢原市 #いせはら商人 #あきんど #青年部 #商工会 #楽市 #楽座 #商店会連合会 #ハロウィン #イベント #ワークショップ #festival #フェス #お祭り #伊勢原グルメ #城址公園 #isefornia #イセフォルニア #伊勢原ブラン��� #伊勢原土産 #伊勢原名物 #平塚 #秦野 #厚木 (丸山城址公園) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkSrvDfOSCP/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#片野さんちのとまと #地産地消野菜 #楽市楽座 #伊勢原 #いせはら #大山 #伊勢原市 #いせはら商人 #あきんど #青年部 #商工会 #楽市 #楽座 #商店会連合会 #ハロウィン #イベント #ワークショップ #festival #フェス #お祭り #伊勢原グルメ #城址公園 #isefornia #イセフォルニア #伊勢原ブランド #伊勢原土産 #伊勢原名物 #平塚 #秦野 #厚木

[acutenetworks]

NSDL

क्या आप अब भी पैनकार्ड के लिए थर्ड पार्टी पैनल का उपयोग कर रहे है ? अब लीजिये NSDL ऑथोराइज़्ड पैन सेन्टर (PAAM Login) https://www.onlineservices.nsdl.com/paam/login.html

#NSDL directsales TINFC tinpan bhfyp starcertifiedpartner

[satussy]

Good night, Satoru Gojo. by tinpan

#stsg #satosugu #satoru gojo #suguru geto #scan #jjk season 2 #jujutsu kaisen

[grrrlmusic]

#indie music #music #indie #mp3 #music 2018 #2018 #audio #spotify #new music #indie rock #rock #hipster #st. vincent #tancred #tinpan orange #juice wrld #bulow #chelsea cutler #ashe #billy raffoul #gang gang dance

[genocider-syo]

happy easter for those who celebrate it uwu

#ive been listening to tinpan orange all morning #theyre an australian band i highly recommend if u like folk music with witchy vibes #also uuhhhhh apparently i have fans?? #hhh????? #cant believe omg #syo rambles #easter

[leo5365362]

Just Announced 🎉🎉Performance at The Tin Pan, Richmond Virginia March 5. Get your tix https://www.tinpanrva.com/e/carol-albert-85488720063/. #smoothjazz #show #tinpan #richmondvirginia #livemusic #livemusicvenue #livemusicians #band https://www.instagram.com/p/B56wh2zgwUO/?igshid=13zpr7q5h70ln

#smoothjazz #show #tinpan #richmondvirginia #livemusic #livemusicvenue #livemusicians #band

[violasbabygirl]

@chantaecann & friends @beeboisseau is coming for you TONIGHT Richmond 👁. Get your tix at https://www.tinpanrva.com/.. Gonna be a helluva show..#letsgo #chantaecann #beeboisseau #richmond #va #tinpan #friends #sundaynight (at The Tin Pan) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4ZQqWtJFLF/?igshid=1mgze5bj5bcod

#letsgo #chantaecann #beeboisseau #richmond #va #tinpan #friends #sundaynight

[brokehorrorfan]

Bluebeard and Dead Space have been released on Blu-ray via Scream Factory. Limited to 1,500, they’re available for $26.98 each exclusively from Shout Factory.

Bluebeard is a 1972 crime film loosely based on the French folktale. Edward Dmytryk (The Caine Mutiny) directs from a scrip he co-wrote with Ennio De Concini (Black Sunday) and Maria Pia Fusco (Salon Kitty). Richard Burton, Raquel Welch, Joey Heatherton, and Sybil Danning star.

Dead Space is a 1991 science fiction horror produced by Roger Corman. Fred Gallo (Dracula Rising) directs from a script by Catherine Cyran (Slumber Party Massacre III), loosely based on 1982's Forbidden World. Marc Singer, Laura Tate, Bryan Cranston, Judith Chapman, Randy Reinholz, and Lori Lively star.

Bluebeard has been newly transferred in high definition from the original interpositive, while Dead Space has received a new 4K scan of the original camera negative with six minutes of unseen footage. Special features are below.

Bluebeard special features:

Theatrical trailer

Still gallery

The aristocratic Baron Kurt Von Sepper (Richard Burton) has always been known as a lady-killer among his friends and acquaintances ... but the women in his life have a nasty habit of turning up dead. With the lovely Anne (Joey Heatherton) for his seventh wife, all is wedded bliss until Anne discovers that within the Baron's estate lies the gruesome truth about his previous marriages. As the Baron reveals the sordid details of his past, Anne must find a way to outwit her horrifying husband before she meets her predecessors' fates.

Dead Space special features:

Extended cut with six minutes of unseen footage

Theatrical cut (standard definition)

Audio commentary by director Fred Gallo (theatrical cut)

On the planet Phaebon, a controlled research facility had been thought to be safe ... until a breach unleashes alien terrors unknown. A distress signal calls for Commander Krieger (Singer) and his robot cohort Tinpan (Rodger Halston). Together, they must contend with a rapidly spreading virus and an odd — and growing — cocoon.

#bluebeard #dead space #roger corman #horror #bryan cranston #richard burton #scream factory #dvd #gift #marc singer #judith chapman #sybil danning #raquel welch #joey heatherton #edward dmytryk

[brosinlove]

tagged by @nevergettingoverwincest thank youuuuuuu!!!!! <3 

name: jaslyn

nickname: jas, clek (close friends only lmao) 

starsign: sagittarius sun & scorpio moon, a powerful combo lol 

gender: female

height: 5’7

sexual orientation: technically pan but i identify as bi to avoid being asked if i fuck frying pans

favorite colour: yellow 

current time: 7pm

current location: just got into bed!!! 

average hours of sleep: 7-8

lucky numbers: no

last thing I googled:  "where to buy tapioca pearls in [my city]”

number of blankets I sleep with: 1

favorite fictional characters: SAM AND DEAN WINCHESTER

favorite bands/artists: saybia, tinpan orange, keane, lady gaga, maroon 5

dream job: teaching! i work in education at the moment so it’s almost as good

random fact: australia has more feral camels than anywhere else in the world

do you have any other blogs? yeah a shitposting blog @onionblog follow me i’m funny

when did your blog reach its peak? like 4 years ago when i made graphics

what made you decide to get tumblr? about 10 years ago people at my school were using tumblr to make ~aesthetic blogs~ so i joined in on that... and then discovered supernatural and it took over

why did you choose your url? i mean, is it wrong??? :D

i’m tagging @brothersandlovers @icantdoitwithoutmybrother @samshinechester @blueskysammy 

#about #tag games