travesty-majesty:

omnybus:

The bar was so low it was practically a tripping hazard in Hell, yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil

OP this is such a raw line what the fuck

funnytwittertweets:

crabussy:

hey. don’t cry. crush four cloves of garlic into a pot with a dollop of olive oil and stir until golden then add one can of crushed tomatoes a bit of balsamic vinegar half a tablespoon of brown sugar and stir for a few minutes adding a handful of fresh spinach until wilted and mix in half a cup of grated parmesan cheese and pasta of your choice ok?

thatblondeperson:

flip-this-table:

justenoughlight:

justenoughlight:

tinydooms:

no-lo-lo:

maximum-mom:

bee-dot-exe:

a-girl-with-sparkling-lies:

bemusedlybespectacled:

the-silent-screamer:

gayvoidprince:

deirdrebeaubeirdra:

I can feel The dryness of those markers in my bones

Fun fact those dry markers were supposed to have water put into them to make them work. You take off the bottom thing and pour water in and bam, instant marker success. Only learned about this four years after I’d lost my set 🙃

WHAT

WHAT

WHAT

Hey. Reblog to save some poor kid lots of grief.

Fucking what?!

Every ‘90s child on Tumblr raises their head in outrage.

I just stood up so fast and snatched mine out of my closet brb going to the sink

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

Are you fucking kidding me

They couldn’t have put an instruction card in there or something????

beardedmrbean:

funnytwittertweets:

naamahdarling:

brightlotusmoon:

oni-with-an-iron-club:

steviedegrae:

over60butnotdead-deactivated202:

🤣🤣🤣🤣

She’s a keeper.

Good for her. Good for both of you.

Now THAT is a WIFE.

portraitoftheoddity:

wendiana99:

portraitoftheoddity:

Okay– you guys want another cute story about my parents and food?

So my mother is an amazing baker. And as I mentioned in a reblog of the Oranges post, my parents now always keep fresh fruit in the house – particularly bananas (my dad likes them with his breakfast). And whenever the bananas go brown, mom makes (really goddamn delicious) banana bread.

My parents are very avid outdoorsy folks and do a lot of hiking. They live in a mountainous region and basically climb a mountain every weekend (most of the mountains here are under 6,000 feet, but rocky), including in the middle of winter. Because cold and exertion eat through your blood sugar, they always pack trail snacks, and they developed a tradition of bringing a mini loaf of mom’s banana bread that they share on the summit.

Now a few years ago my father was having a midlife crisis and decided he was going to hike a REALLY big mountain. So he signed up for an expedition to climb Mt. Denali in Alaska – the tallest peak in North America. The group he was going with had a trip planned where everyone would be responsible for hiking with and carrying their own gear, so you had to be prepared to hike up a big fuckoff mountain in potentially treacherous conditions with a heavy pack.

My mother was not going on this expedition (she has problems with altitude sickness) but dammit, she was not going to let my dad go get himself killed by being unprepared. So in the year leading up to his climb, she kinda became his personal trainer. They hiked the local mountains a lot and in all kinds of weather conditions, practiced rope training and crevasse rescue techniques, and she made sure he practiced climbing with increasingly heavy packs until he was hauling around 65lbs of weights on his back. Sometimes she would even sit in a sled in the snow and make him pull her. 

When the trip finally came, dad was incredibly excited, and amused that his gear pack actually ended up being lighter than his practice pack. A number of other folks in the expedition had practiced going up a stair machines with weight on their backs, but mom had dragged dad through all the really rocky, treacherous trails around here with ice and water crossings, so he had solid balance from really moving with that amount of weight. Over the course of the climb (which took a couple weeks), half of the hikers ended up turning back (for various reasons), but despite being the oldest in the group, dad was one of the few to summit. 

And on the day he made it to the top, at 20,310 feet of elevation, he pulled out of his pack, wrapped in foil and mostly frozen but intact despite the long trip, a loaf of my mother’s banana bread, to eat on top of the world. Because, he said later, even if she wasn’t there with him, she was the reason he made it to the top.

This is so wholesome.

Can we have the banana bread recipe? 😆

YOU KNOW WHAT?

Yes.

Sift together: 

• 1 ¾ cups flour
• 1 ½ cups sugar
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp salt

In separate bowl:

• 2 eggs
• ½ cup canola oil
• 3 mashed bananas (overripe)
• 1 tsp vanilla
• ¼ cup buttermilk (or 1 Tbsp buttermilk powder & ¼ cup water)

Stir with flour mixture slowly.

Fold in: ½ cup chopped walnuts or chocolate chips, as desired. (my mother likes nuts, I like chocolate)

Crumb topping:

• ½ stick cold butter cut up into small crumbles
• 1 – 1 ½ tsp cinnamon
• ½ cup flour
• ½ cup brown sugar

Mix thoroughly into small pieces. Get in there with your hands. Get messy.

Preheat oven to 325ºF. 

Grease 4 mini loaf pans and sprinkle with flour.

Spread part of the batter in four mini pans, then layer with half of the topping mixture so there’s a layer in the middle of them all.

Spread rest of batter and top with rest of topping.

Bake for 40-45 minutes!

Makes 4 mini loaves that freeze well, and are good for eating on top of mountains.