Has anybody who thinks Han Solo is the personification of a suave cool guy ladies man ever actually seen Star Wars? Han Solo is the personification of someone trying to lean all casual against a wall while saying a witty one liner and then falling straight through an open door instead.
My brain, at 6 AM on a Monday: I wonder if you can order those little soy sauce fish shaped bottles in bulk, except without soy sauce in them. You should spend 30 minutes trying to find them instead of sleeping.
Must… resist…
Cons: Waste of money, waste of time, stupid, pointless, unnecessary, foolish.
I told a guy his total was 13.21 and he said “wish it were that year, could actually get some good music on the radio”
breaking news from the AP, our boys on the front have just sacked constantinople. take that, heretics. coming up next are the soothing lute dirges of bing crosby
So I accidentally learned today about this thing where lots of people ship Carmen Sandiego and Waldo from Where’s Waldo?
And on the one hand I love it, because it’s silly and hilarious and you can learn about it and giggle and move on OR you can think about it for a long time and get really into it and that’s a great thing about the Internet
But it really grinds my gears that all the fanart visions of the couple I could immediately see on google showed this really conventionally gendered arrangement where Waldo is like leading/supporting Carmen or rescuing her?
And it’s like exCUSE ME I get that they’d be a cute couple because they’re both hard to find, and because why not, but like she’s an ex-detective criminal mastermind unbound by time and space and he’s a tourist who can’t find his map they are hard to find for VERY DIFFERENT REASONS and you cannot convince me that fucking adorable bespectacled soft butch brings-a-walking-stick-to-the-beach dazed and confused WALDO would be in the driver’s seat of that operation I mean GOD
Right, i mean obviously you can’t find Waldo because CARMEN SANDIEGO STOLE HIM.
She is absolutely the pursuer here. They met at a marketplace in Morocco, on accident. Waldo spilled his street food on her jacket–not realizing she had just robbed a museum two blocks over and that’s why she was rushing. The police ran past and she grabbed him and kissed him, you know, that old “avoid the cops” tactic, but jokes on her; it’s the kiss of her life.
This adorable, bespectacled little hipster with a shy mumble and those indecent blue eyes knocks her for a loop. So she decides to steal him. Immediately.
Waldo never stood a chance. And now he’s wanted in connection for six heists in four different countries, but Waldo knows the best places to hide, so they never get caught.
DustAndFundamentalists 