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stargazing-zani · 2 years

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Fuckit, Texas Headcanons

(Source: I’m from there. Do you have to take my ideas any more seriously? No. As a matter of fact, please don’t.)

- Uhh he tall? I'm bad at estimating heights, let's put him at 6'5" and call it a day.

- He smells like gasoline and cattle.

- He did not attend college and does not ever plan to. That's not to say Texas is anti-univeristy (you can't be Best In The Nation if your colleges aren't top-notch) but he perfers to work with his hands, and trade schools are way better for that.

- Back in the late 1800's he worked as a cowhand and did the cattle drive all the way up to Kansas. And he loved it.

- He knows how to use a lariat, make a campfire meal, fix most tools, care for livestock, and "handle" native americans.

- Early on his cattle brand was a simple star. Cattle rustlers easily stole and rebranded his cows, so he changed that pretty quick.

- He misses those days a lot and gets emotional at the Fort Worth stockyards.

- During the Oil Boom starting in 1901, Texas became incredibly more powerful physically and financially (and more of the asshole we know today). Although getting all that oil siphoned out felt a bit like donating more blood than a person could afford, he still boasted and bragged about it. He's gotta one-up California after that Gold Rush, after all.

- The back of his oversized Ford pickup is plastered with just about every Texan bumper sticker you could think of, including: Come and Take it Don't Tread on Me Remember the Alamo, Forget the White House Beaver Believer (from Buc-ee's) Don't Mess With Texas Pray to End Abortion Don't California my Texas and Keep Austin Weird And his liscence plate reads LONESTAR.

- Don't let the truck fool you, he still owns a horse. Her name's Bluebonnet ("Bonnie" for short). In fact, every horse he's owned was named Bluebonnet -- he kept replacing them as they died through the years. The OG Bonnie saw a lot more action than the current Bonnie, who is basically a pet at this point.

- He's a devout Christian, of course, but the specific denomination changes depending on what mood he's in. Any contradicions this causes doesn't bother him. He goes to church every Sunday, bible study every Wednesday, and prays every night. ("Our Father in Heaven, thank you for creating me to be the best. Please help Florida. Please serve justice to California. Forgive me for my transgressions, and thank you for brisket. Amen.")

- He's claustrophobic, but he doesn't know it. He just figures he's too big for anywhere outside of what he's used to. (This is based on the absolutely horrendous urban sprawl I've experienced -- dense cities are Not Very Texan.)

- When he goes to the beach, he wears swim trunks with his flag on them. And the cowboy hat and boots stay ON, thank you very much.

- He carries twin pistols and a large bowie knife with him everywhere he goes.

- Okay, I might as well talk about Austin. So unlike a couple of people, I don't think that Texas' other cities manifest as alternate personalities, mostly because they still all feel very Texan. Austin, however is Weird. He's Weird and different and exceptional enough that I like to think he's the only one who can break off from Texas yet share a body like that. The joke is that Austin and Texas are at odds despite being a part of each other, and I kinda like to stay true to that.

-Texas is protective of him like a parent whose daughter is dating someone he doesn't approve of: harsh, suspicious of everything, overbearing, and ready to shoot any agressors.

-Texas' and Austin's emotions mix a little bit but basically whoever's fronting gets the say and the other one is fully concious but screaming and banging on a metaphorical glass wall.

-When Austin takes the hat off, he seems to shrink a few inches.

-Austin likes bright rainbow "hippie" colors, to Texas' disgust. He is not allowed input on fashion or interior design.

- However, they both like tailgaiting, dancing, and country music, so it's not all that bad.

- Maybe I should also mention the daddy issues? Uhhh honestly closest I can guess for the dad is Mexico (which is funny because Texas actively fought against him so the issues would be his own fault). Or maybe it's one of Texas' founding fathers like Sam Houston or Stephen F. Austin. But honestly, it could be a character called "Texas' Dad" for all I care. I just like that the issues exist. Austin wants to talk about it. Texas does not.

- He likes to remind everyone his territory once reached even farther, all the way into current-day Colorado, when people start taking Alaska's side.

- Despite his love of oil, cattle, and free-range capitalism, he is the biggest producer of wind energy in the country, which annoys California like you wouldn't believe.

-Texas uses Spanish to trash talk the Gov to his face without him knowing. Although his pronunciation irks the other Spanish-speaking states, this usually grants him a few temporary allies during meetings.

- His pride makes it hard to find close friends (not that he minds) but he’s chill with Tennessee and Louisiana especially.

- Texas doesn't believe in swearing ("hell" and "damn" and "ass" are ok) bc he thinks it's unchristian. He will not hesitate, however, to pull out a long-winded cowboy insult, you lily-livered, yellow-bellied, frog-faced, bull-headed, dung-smellin', cactus-sittin', donkey-ridin' son of a gun!

#you know that anti nostalgia feeling from seeing an old school you hated?#That was me writing this #you're welcome #welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #my stuff

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aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg · 1 year

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December 4th: Buffaloes

“From ocean to ocean”—so say the Americans; and these four words compose the general designation of the “great trunk line” which crosses the entire width of the United States. The Pacific Railroad is, however, really divided into two distinct lines: the Central Pacific, between San Francisco and Ogden, and the Union Pacific, between Ogden and Omaha. Five main lines connect Omaha with New York.

New York and San Francisco are thus united by an uninterrupted metal ribbon, which measures no less than three thousand seven hundred and eighty-six miles. Between Omaha and the Pacific the railway crosses a territory which is still infested by Indians and wild beasts, and a large tract which the Mormons, after they were driven from Illinois in 1845, began to colonise.

The journey from New York to San Francisco consumed, formerly, under the most favourable conditions, at least six months. It is now accomplished in seven days.

It was in 1862 that, in spite of the Southern Members of Congress, who wished a more southerly route, it was decided to lay the road between the forty-first and forty-second parallels. President Lincoln himself fixed the end of the line at Omaha, in Nebraska. The work was at once commenced, and pursued with true American energy; nor did the rapidity with which it went on injuriously affect its good execution. The road grew, on the prairies, a mile and a half a day. A locomotive, running on the rails laid down the evening before, brought the rails to be laid on the morrow, and advanced upon them as fast as they were put in position.

The Pacific Railroad is joined by several branches in Iowa, Kansas, Colorado, and Oregon. On leaving Omaha, it passes along the left bank of the Platte River as far as the junction of its northern branch, follows its southern branch, crosses the Laramie territory and the Wahsatch Mountains, turns the Great Salt Lake, and reaches Salt Lake City, the Mormon capital, plunges into the Tuilla Valley, across the American Desert, Cedar and Humboldt Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, and descends, viâ Sacramento, to the Pacific—its grade, even on the Rocky Mountains, never exceeding one hundred and twelve feet to the mile.

Such was the road to be traversed in seven days, which would enable Phileas Fogg—at least, so he hoped—to take the Atlantic steamer at New York on the 11th for Liverpool.

The car which he occupied was a sort of long omnibus on eight wheels, and with no compartments in the interior. It was supplied with two rows of seats, perpendicular to the direction of the train on either side of an aisle which conducted to the front and rear platforms. These platforms were found throughout the train, and the passengers were able to pass from one end of the train to the other. It was supplied with saloon cars, balcony cars, restaurants, and smoking-cars; theatre cars alone were wanting, and they will have these some day.

Book and news dealers, sellers of edibles, drinkables, and cigars, who seemed to have plenty of customers, were continually circulating in the aisles.

The train left Oakland station at six o’clock. It was already night, cold and cheerless, the heavens being overcast with clouds which seemed to threaten snow. The train did not proceed rapidly; counting the stoppages, it did not run more than twenty miles an hour, which was a sufficient speed, however, to enable it to reach Omaha within its designated time.

There was but little conversation in the car, and soon many of the passengers were overcome with sleep. Passepartout found himself beside the detective; but he did not talk to him. After recent events, their relations with each other had grown somewhat cold; there could no longer be mutual sympathy or intimacy between them. Fix’s manner had not changed; but Passepartout was very reserved, and ready to strangle his former friend on the slightest provocation.

Snow began to fall an hour after they started, a fine snow, however, which happily could not obstruct the train; nothing could be seen from the windows but a vast, white sheet, against which the smoke of the locomotive had a greyish aspect.

At eight o’clock a steward entered the car and announced that the time for going to bed had arrived; and in a few minutes the car was transformed into a dormitory. The backs of the seats were thrown back, bedsteads carefully packed were rolled out by an ingenious system, berths were suddenly improvised, and each traveller had soon at his disposition a comfortable bed, protected from curious eyes by thick curtains. The sheets were clean and the pillows soft. It only remained to go to bed and sleep which everybody did—while the train sped on across the State of California.

The country between San Francisco and Sacramento is not very hilly. The Central Pacific, taking Sacramento for its starting-point, extends eastward to meet the road from Omaha. The line from San Francisco to Sacramento runs in a north-easterly direction, along the American River, which empties into San Pablo Bay. The one hundred and twenty miles between these cities were accomplished in six hours, and towards midnight, while fast asleep, the travellers passed through Sacramento; so that they saw nothing of that important place, the seat of the State government, with its fine quays, its broad streets, its noble hotels, squares, and churches.

The train, on leaving Sacramento, and passing the junction, Roclin, Auburn, and Colfax, entered the range of the Sierra Nevada. ’Cisco was reached at seven in the morning; and an hour later the dormitory was transformed into an ordinary car, and the travellers could observe the picturesque beauties of the mountain region through which they were steaming. The railway track wound in and out among the passes, now approaching the mountain-sides, now suspended over precipices, avoiding abrupt angles by bold curves, plunging into narrow defiles, which seemed to have no outlet. The locomotive, its great funnel emitting a weird light, with its sharp bell, and its cow-catcher extended like a spur, mingled its shrieks and bellowings with the noise of torrents and cascades, and twined its smoke among the branches of the gigantic pines.

There were few or no bridges or tunnels on the route. The railway turned around the sides of the mountains, and did not attempt to violate nature by taking the shortest cut from one point to another.

The train entered the State of Nevada through the Carson Valley about nine o’clock, going always northeasterly; and at midday reached Reno, where there was a delay of twenty minutes for breakfast.

From this point the road, running along Humboldt River, passed northward for several miles by its banks; then it turned eastward, and kept by the river until it reached the Humboldt Range, nearly at the extreme eastern limit of Nevada.

Having breakfasted, Mr. Fogg and his companions resumed their places in the car, and observed the varied landscape which unfolded itself as they passed along the vast prairies, the mountains lining the horizon, and the creeks, with their frothy, foaming streams. Sometimes a great herd of buffaloes, massing together in the distance, seemed like a moveable dam. These innumerable multitudes of ruminating beasts often form an insurmountable obstacle to the passage of the trains; thousands of them have been seen passing over the track for hours together, in compact ranks. The locomotive is then forced to stop and wait till the road is once more clear.

This happened, indeed, to the train in which Mr. Fogg was travelling. About twelve o’clock a troop of ten or twelve thousand head of buffalo encumbered the track. The locomotive, slackening its speed, tried to clear the way with its cow-catcher; but the mass of animals was too great. The buffaloes marched along with a tranquil gait, uttering now and then deafening bellowings. There was no use of interrupting them, for, having taken a particular direction, nothing can moderate and change their course; it is a torrent of living flesh which no dam could contain.

The travellers gazed on this curious spectacle from the platforms; but Phileas Fogg, who had the most reason of all to be in a hurry, remained in his seat, and waited philosophically until it should please the buffaloes to get out of the way.

Passepartout was furious at the delay they occasioned, and longed to discharge his arsenal of revolvers upon them.

“What a country!” cried he. “Mere cattle stop the trains, and go by in a procession, just as if they were not impeding travel! Parbleu! I should like to know if Mr. Fogg foresaw this mishap in his programme! And here’s an engineer who doesn’t dare to run the locomotive into this herd of beasts!”

The engineer did not try to overcome the obstacle, and he was wise. He would have crushed the first buffaloes, no doubt, with the cow-catcher; but the locomotive, however powerful, would soon have been checked, the train would inevitably have been thrown off the track, and would then have been helpless.

The best course was to wait patiently, and regain the lost time by greater speed when the obstacle was removed. The procession of buffaloes lasted three full hours, and it was night before the track was clear. The last ranks of the herd were now passing over the rails, while the first had already disappeared below the southern horizon.

It was eight o’clock when the train passed through the defiles of the Humboldt Range, and half-past nine when it penetrated Utah, the region of the Great Salt Lake, the singular colony of the Mormons.

#Around the world in 80 days #Jules Verne #around the world in 80 dailies

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rootcat-shop · 10 months

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“Hometown Chandelier” is now for sale! This 34x34” collage of hand painted and magazine cut out squares on recycled canvas is ready for a new home! DM me if you can see this on your walls!

"Hometown Chandelier" is inspired by the ceiling tiles at Union Station in Kansas City. I had to do some trial and error when it came to finding colors and textures that I liked for each square. The final product has 1,156 individual one inch squares. Some are from interior design magazines, cookbooks, children's books and others were hand painted. In the process of finding the right ones, I'm sure I cut out over two thousand squares- maybe some you'll see in a future artwork! As much as I try to prepare, creating is always a learning process, one I appreciate when it's finished because now I know and I had fun doing it. I look forward to continuing this style I never thought I would be interested in and seeing where it takes me. Stay tuned to see where it goes!

#kcartist #kcmo #union station #kc union station #local artist #collage artist #representational art #lenexa ks #kc metro

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mumblingsage · 2 years

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Back from the road trip!

It was an adorable wedding, I’m very happy for my friend. We tragic singles (I mean I’m doing okay but still single for going-to-wedding purposes; a few others had just come off of the breakup of long-term relationships) formed a posse to dance and lipsync.

While in Kansas City, my sister and I checked out the Museum of Toys and Miniatures, which. Wow. If you like smol things or interior design it is definitely bucket list worthy.

And on my way home, I drove to Cahokia, which holds the largest pyramid in North America, an earth mound about...I don’t even want to guess....a lot of steps high. And it begs even bigger when you consider it was built by basketful after basketful of piled earth. Some serious fucking engineering went into that thing. Once I was on it, I could see the St Louis Arch about 8 miles away.

I also stopped at a Steak n’ Shake because we do not have those in my home state.

And then it was lots of 2-lane highways at 80 miles per hour while listening to audiobooks. But that is also a vacation in its way!

For today I’m mostly working at returning to ordinary life, like going through the emails that piled up when I was away. I’ll probably be back to regular human-ing tomorrow.

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afr0-thunder · 3 months

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[Poor Chronicles Pt. 42]

Topics: SEXI (“Final” Update Pt. 3)/Savings/Girls/NFL (Super Bowl)/Photography/“Interior Design” (Update)/Mental Health “Battle”

I HAVE RETURNED! My only updates are that, I DID reply to SEXI…after leaving her on read. Terrible decision, we’re currently in a conversation.

My savings? $150. Decided I’ll see how I’d do with no additional stashes to keep myself ahead. Not planned, but still had to be done.

The girl from college does not have “game”, I decided I could not fuck her. Getting pissed off prematurely will surely get you there. I, however, have stumbled upon a new prospect in a similar situation.

The 49ers made it to overtime, but not out with a Super Bowl win! The Ravens, Cowboys and Eagles all fell short to the Kansas City Chiefs, ultimately.

I’ve been more into pictures lately. I feel so happy while going to the photo shoots, but I can never fully embrace the feeling. It’s so disappointing. I’m not unhappy. I just can’t seem to find my happiness in it. It’s so complicated. It frustrates me a lot. I’ve been trying so hard, but I don’t think it’s possible so I’ll just have to endure it, unfortunately.

I’ve added a flat screen TV and a gaming system to my room for television/film. I decided being in a blank room while horny is quite an experience, so I shall try to elevate the experience.

I’ve earned a “pen pal” or “ e-pal”, it’s actually kind of fun. She says I’m “funny”

Overall, I was loving how my life was going, I just couldn’t see a point in pushing more aggressively. I’m not drained, unmotivated or giving up. It’s not even that it’s “not working”, I just have gotten to a point where I feel like I should just stop on ALL efforts. I want success, but it only seems like it would be to help others. I personally feel like I should just commit to a life where I limit speaking to or seeing people. It just doesn’t feel like there is anything around that I need or want anymore. Suicide of your success is crazy, but bettering a world who doesn’t value your offerings is crazier. NAIL. IN. COFFIN.

I tried to keep this up, but my days have been filled with errands and rest, if possible. Have a wonderful morning AND DAY!

- MH (2024)

#FirstTumblrPostof2024

#personal #poor chronicles #poor #poverty #life #lesson #life lesson #life lessons #guidance #struggle #chicago #2024 #LilMark #PUNKAssMark #afr0-thunder

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