i love that this article is not only pointing out a super common and troubling phenomenon in movie culture but was also probably set up the way it is specifically so the author could put embarrassing pictures of their friends on buzzfeed
The computer said my next patient’s name was Lucifer, and that he was a domestic. Not that an unusual name for a pet, I have to admit.
“Come on in. Do you have Lucifer hiding in that box for me?” I say. A gentleman dressed all in black with a rather spiky aesthetic and a selection of piercings comes into my consult room and opens the box.
He places a perfectly black rabbit on the table.
Honestly, I had been expecting a cat.
Turns out Lucifer is his new rabbit. He’d insisted on taking it from a friend who wasn’t taking care of it a few months ago.
Lucifer, for his part, had decided the table was too scary and that his dad’s leather clad armpit was the best place to be.
To my surprise and delight, our new goth rabbit owner is doing everything right. Perfect diet, read up on rabbit health, vaccinating, enrichment, the works.
He even started a vegetable garden to grow treats for the rabbit, or as he put it, “tributes for lucifer.”
“In my own life, I have a deep connection with my family and the value of those bonds. I’ve always loved stories about people who put their families before themselves. It’s such a noble endeavor. You can’t choose your family, as opposed to friends. Especially in L.A. You really get to see how friendships are put to the test; it stirs everyone’s egos. But if something goes south with a friend, you have the option to say we’re not friends anymore. Your family—that’s your family. Trying to make that system work and trying to make it not just functional but actually enjoyable is a really challenging endeavor, and that’s certainly how it is with my family.“ – Chris Evans photographed by Mark Segal for Esquire Magazine’s April 2017 issue.
this photoshoot was literally sent by Satan to punish ME SPECIFICALLY and i’ll tell you why: because these are pictures not of Your Hot Goofy Boyfriend, Chris Evans, but of Your Sexy and Reliable Husband, Chris Evans, Who Swore Before Your Friends and Families and God to Care for You Forever and Meant It. Your husband Chris Evans likes to listen to old Dinah Washington records while doing the dishes. Your husband Chris Evans loves to make breakfast but never touches the coffeemaker because he’s weirdly convinced that he doesn’t know how to use it. Your husband Chris Evans always smells like detergent and Kiehl’s. Your husband Chris Evans is learning to refinish furniture from Youtube so all your kitchen chairs are stained different colors because he hasn’t decided which one he likes best and “it’s a process.” Your husband Chris Evans loves it when you scratch his head while he’s reading the newspaper. (Your husband Chris Evans insists on continuing to subscribe to a physical newspaper.) Your husband Chris Evans is considering buying a kayak. Your husband Chris Evans is finally after like 8 years finishing his dissertation on Samuel Beckett’s use of parataxis and hypotaxis and he likes to read passages aloud to the dog because it “helps him think.” (“Per Adorno, paratactical strategies permit the emergence of an aesthetic unity that knows itself to be inconclusive,” croons your husband Chris Evans in his gooboy voice as the dog drools adoringly on his face. “Don’t they? Yes, they do.”) Your husband Chris Evans insisted you spring for a land line when you bought your house because “real houses have phones in them” and you were like, this is a real house and we already have twophones in it, and your husband Chris Evans was like “not cell phones“ with that grossed-out hippie face he gets when he’s thinking about how modern technology is invasive and how he wants to be more present in life, and you were like LOL eyeroll, but then he got his arms around you and was like “i want a phone so people can call us at our house, you know?” and you JUST KNEW he was thinking about when you have kids, and you were like, Oh, God.
shoutout to paris hilton for not abandoning her ‘micropig’
when it turned out that it was a normal piggy who grew up to be a big fat fatty piggu
Actually that’s pretty standard size for a micro pig. Pigs are ENORMOUS, dude. The average pig on a farm is 7 feet long and over 700 lbs. A normal pig would be much bigger than Hilton.
EDIT: This is a photo of the world’s smallest recognized breed of pig, the kune kune. I’m sorry cartoons lied to you all.
This is the pot bellied pig, another famous “small” breed.
This is your average adult pig.
Big ole’ pigs.
Wild boars can feed people for a very long time! I believe this one was 1800 lbs. (largest piggy ever was about 1,984 lbs)
I NOW KNOW WHY WILD BOARS WERE SO DANGEROUS IN THE DARK AGES HOLY SHIT; RICHARD III I TAKE BACK ALL THE TRASH I TALKED ABOUT YOUR HOUSE CREST GOOD GOD THAT’S TERRIFYING.
holy fucking shit I knew they were big but that’s like the size of a fucking CAR.