ceescedasticity:

iguana-sneeze:

marzipanandminutiae:

derinthemadscientist:

bedlamsbard:

burntcopper:

meduseld:

penroseparticle:

My favorite thing is that Europe is spooky because it’s old and America is spooky because it’s big

“The difference between America and England is that Americans think 100 years is a long time, while the English think 100 miles is a long way.” –Earle Hitchner

A fave of mine was always the american tales where people freaked out because ‘someone died in this house’ and all the europeans would go ‘…Yes? That would be pretty much every house over 40 years old.’

‘…My school is older than your entire town.’

‘Sorry, you think *how far* is okay to travel for a shopping trip?’

*American looks up at the beams in a country pub* ‘Uh, this place has woodworm, isn’t that a bit unsafe?’ ‘Eh, the woodworm’s 400 years old, it’s holding those beams together.’

A few years ago when I was in college I did a summer program at Cambridge aimed specifically at Americans and Canadians, and my year it was all Americans and one Australian.  We ended the program with a week in Wessex, and on the last day as we all piled onto the bus in Salisbury (or Bath? I can’t remember), the professors went to the front to warn us that we wouldn’t be making any stops unless absolutely necessary.  We’re headed to Heathrow to drop off anyone flying off the same day, then back to Cambridge.

“All right, it’s going to be a long bus ride, so make sure you’re prepared for that.”

We all brace ourselves.  A long bus ride?  How long?  We’re Americans; a long bus ride for us is a minimum of six hours with the double digits perfectly plausible.  We can handle a twelve hour bus ride as long as we get a bathroom break.

The answer.  “Two hours.”

Oh.

English people trying to travel around Australia and wildly underestimating distance are my favourite thing

a tour guide in France told my school group that a particular cathedral wouldn’t interest us much because “it’s not very old; only from the early 1600s”

to which we had to respond that it was still older than the oldest surviving European-style buildings in our country

China is both old and big. I had some Chinese colleagues over; we were discussing whether they wanted to see the Vasa ship (hugely expensive war ship which sank on it’s maiden voyage after 12 min). They asked if it was old, I said “not THAT old” (bearing in mind they were Chinese) “it’s from the 1500s.” To my surprise they still looked impressed, nodding enthusiatically. Then I realised I’d forgotten something: “…I mean it’s from the 1500s AFTER the birth of Christ” and they went “oh, AFTER…”.

My dad’s favorite quote from various tours in Italy was “Pay no attention to the tower – it was a [scornful tone]

tenth century addition.”

justbadpuns:

Looks like October is nearly Octover

morthils:

deliciouslycookingrpgideas:

a-daks:

probablybardrpgideas:

probablystrangerpgideas:

probablybardrpgideas:

Kids these days who think that being a bard is just about swinging swords and playing lutes disgust me. Where’s the pizzazz? The showmanship? The seduction??

you ain’t a real bard until you seduce your way out of at least 19 situations that would normally end in combat

You’re not a real bard until you make your DM cry because you seduced the Big Bad that they’ve built up to for 10 sessions

Once a bard friend rolled a 1 for a seduction and ended up killing a girl and tried to hide the body. He was caught, rolled low on deception and they all thought he was fucking her corpse.
He then tried seducing the guards and rolled low again so all the guards had boners while arresting him and the DM had to sideline the entire game and make up a dungeon for the rest of us to get our stupid bard out of.
But we didn’t. So for like 3 nights the DM essentially ran 2 different games, one of us questing without ol’ corpsefucker and then the adventures of corpsefucker: escape from boner castle.

He seduced his way out, naturally.

A true bard

@shinseigaming I know you won’t play with bards but this made me cackle like a seagull

a-fragile-sort-of-anarchy:

Do you ever see an art style so rad that it just blows your nipples clean off and you have to follow the artist immediately? Well, I encountered one such artist, and just went on a forty-five minute Google hunt to track them down because my initial introduction to their work turned out to be a repost.

I reported the repost (and a few others I found along the way), did all that Pinterest dodging to find their actual blog, dug through the blog to find the particular piece I’d originally liked so I could have a guilt-free reblogging experience, and you know what???

The really nice Gravity Falls piece I liked was an isolated incident and the rest of their work is Gorillaz inflation porn. I’m so mad.