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via http://ift.tt/2kLxZxt:
fullcravings:
Dulce de Leche Cinnamon Sandwich Cookies
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fullcravings:
Dulce de Leche Cinnamon Sandwich Cookies
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Dec. 24th, 2017
via http://ift.tt/2l5Ho2e:
lovelyplant:
Merry Christmas! Bucky & Steve!
You are home now!
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lovelyplant:
Merry Christmas! Bucky & Steve!
You are home now!
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via http://ift.tt/2C0LuTP:
jungkookio:
honestly it would be nice if 2018 was just… a good year
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jungkookio:
honestly it would be nice if 2018 was just… a good year
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via http://ift.tt/2kO3OFQ:
sartorialadventure:
Jazz Pasay, Indonesian fashion designer
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sartorialadventure:
Jazz Pasay, Indonesian fashion designer
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via http://ift.tt/2BKE1ce:
the-last-hair-bender:
theimaginatorifunny:
gallusrostromegalus:
So, since Y’all liked the last bit of family holiday insanity, I think you’ll enjoy a story from dad’s side of the family. Also, it’s vaguely timely in that this is the time of year people start to do dumb shit with Christmas trees in order to avoid dump fees.
The year is still 1956, because Grandpa is a stickler for taking the tree down before New Year’s Eve, mostly because Grandpa is also the Monterey County Commissioner, and responsible for holding the New Year’s Office Party at his place. You know, a responsible adult who has to make nuanced, careful policy decisions, the kind of guy that turns his taxes in before February.
The kind of guy who decides he can burn his Christmas tree in the fireplace instead of taking it to the dump.
There is no good reason for grandpa to NOT take the tree there- Monterey is on the California Coast and has an average temperature of 50 degrees in December. It will snow in hell before it snows in Monterey. And this was the 50′s! Dump fees didn’t exist yet! It’s easy, free, and very unlikely to set your house on fire!
But no, Grandpa, an other wise sober and sensible man, decided instead to take this highly desiccated and moderately explosive tree and actually shove it up the chimney, before setting it alight.
Dad distinctly recalls his ears popping as the barometric pressure in the room dropped, as the conflagration drew air up into the chimney with enough force to take one of the curtains with it. Grandpa is standing there in front of the fireplace like an idiot, presumably slightly deafened by the jet-engine-like ROAR coming from the fireplace.
Dad, having at least two working survival instincts, ran outside to see if spark were landing on the roof and if he needed to call 911. There were not sparks landing on the roof, becuase whatever flaming bits of tree were left were being blown into the stratosphere by the jet of flame erupting out of the chimney like the worlds biggest butane torch. The ground shook, from the force of the tree combusting in such a confined fashion. The earth was probably moved slightly out of orbit.
Fortunately, once the tree died down, it did not take the house with it, and they were all left with shattered nerves and a structurally unsound chimney.
“Well that was a hell of a thing.” Said grandpa, still standing in front of the fireplace. He turned, slowly, looking moderately shell-shocked towards his sobbing daughters and Dad, who was too awed for any reasonable sense of panic.
“Don’t tell your mother, and we can all have ice cream.”
HAHAHAHAHAHA
Oh my actual God. That is the most aging story.
(Your picture was not posted)
the-last-hair-bender:
theimaginatorifunny:
gallusrostromegalus:
So, since Y’all liked the last bit of family holiday insanity, I think you’ll enjoy a story from dad’s side of the family. Also, it’s vaguely timely in that this is the time of year people start to do dumb shit with Christmas trees in order to avoid dump fees.
The year is still 1956, because Grandpa is a stickler for taking the tree down before New Year’s Eve, mostly because Grandpa is also the Monterey County Commissioner, and responsible for holding the New Year’s Office Party at his place. You know, a responsible adult who has to make nuanced, careful policy decisions, the kind of guy that turns his taxes in before February.
The kind of guy who decides he can burn his Christmas tree in the fireplace instead of taking it to the dump.
There is no good reason for grandpa to NOT take the tree there- Monterey is on the California Coast and has an average temperature of 50 degrees in December. It will snow in hell before it snows in Monterey. And this was the 50′s! Dump fees didn’t exist yet! It’s easy, free, and very unlikely to set your house on fire!
But no, Grandpa, an other wise sober and sensible man, decided instead to take this highly desiccated and moderately explosive tree and actually shove it up the chimney, before setting it alight.
Dad distinctly recalls his ears popping as the barometric pressure in the room dropped, as the conflagration drew air up into the chimney with enough force to take one of the curtains with it. Grandpa is standing there in front of the fireplace like an idiot, presumably slightly deafened by the jet-engine-like ROAR coming from the fireplace.
Dad, having at least two working survival instincts, ran outside to see if spark were landing on the roof and if he needed to call 911. There were not sparks landing on the roof, becuase whatever flaming bits of tree were left were being blown into the stratosphere by the jet of flame erupting out of the chimney like the worlds biggest butane torch. The ground shook, from the force of the tree combusting in such a confined fashion. The earth was probably moved slightly out of orbit.
Fortunately, once the tree died down, it did not take the house with it, and they were all left with shattered nerves and a structurally unsound chimney.
“Well that was a hell of a thing.” Said grandpa, still standing in front of the fireplace. He turned, slowly, looking moderately shell-shocked towards his sobbing daughters and Dad, who was too awed for any reasonable sense of panic.
“Don’t tell your mother, and we can all have ice cream.”
HAHAHAHAHAHA
Oh my actual God. That is the most aging story.
(Your picture was not posted)