Happy Friday, sweet cheeks! Here's a delightfully wholesome post to end your week on a lighthearted note - a collection of photos over the years of Richard Simmons and his beloved Dalmations. Enjoy!
In 1884, a grieving widow named Sarah Winchester arrived in sunny San Jose, California, carrying an immense inheritance that was said to have been cursed. Her husband, William Winchester, was dead, claimed by tuberculosis. Their infant daughter, Annie, had died at one month due to a rare form of severe malnutrition. The source of her wealth was the Winchester rifle, a weapon that had filled her coffers and graveyards around the country. Sarah bought a modest eight-room farmhouse and began designing and building. She never stopped. According to lore, for nearly forty years, hammers echoed day and night as rooms bloomed. dissolved, and were reimagined like restless dreams. When a hallway displeased her, she ordered it razed. When a design felt wrong, she simply rebuilt it. Stairs climbed into ceilings. Doors opened into thin air. Windows looked into walls. The house grew the way a thought spirals when it cannot find peace or passes through the mind like vapor. Maybe it was gri...
When Politico published the cache of racist, bigoted, antisemitic, and violent messages from the “Young” Republicans’ private group chat, it didn’t just expose a few “edgy” or “off color” jokes. It exposed rot that had been lurking beneath charm, networking, and the polished illusion of respectability. These were not anonymous internet basement dwelling trolls. They were congressional aides, campaign staffers, interns, and strategists. They are the ones who will inherit the microphones, the legislation, the power, and the laws. In that putrid chat, they wrote like people who believed they were protected. They used slurs as punctuation and bonded over cruelty. The reaction from the GOP was predictable: a few suspensions, some hollow statements, and a chorus of “That’s not who we are.” Worthless excuses that no one who paid attention would believe. This is exactly who they are when they think no one is watching. But this story isn’t just about them. It’s about the ones who knew and...
This beautiful piece of art was painted by Thomas Moran in 1864. It depicts a creek that flows in Philadelphia, PA and is one of Moran's earlier works from his long career. The gorgeous earthy colours and still water really convey the peaceful atmosphere of this wonderful season. Do you have any favourite autumnal art, Peckers? Sources: Thomas Moran, Terra Foundation for American Art
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