why is that crab on a tree
it’s a coconut crab and they love to climb trees
throw a pokeball at that shit
(Source: snail-sama, via sugarysnarks)
Fun Story: My director kept telling me and my tenor sax buddy to play softer. No matter what we did, it wasn’t soft enough for him. So getting frustrated, I told my buddy “Dont play this time. Just fake it”
Our Band Director then informed us we sounded perfect.
To my readers: “p” means quiet, “pp” means really quiet. I’ve never seen “pppp” before haha.
On the contrast, “f” means loud, and “ffff” probably means so loud you go unconscious.
I had ffff in a piece once and my conductor told me to play as loudly as physically possible without falling off my chair…
Me and my trombone buddies had “ffff” and he sat next to me and played so hard that he fell out of his chair.
The lengths we go for music.
Okay yeah so I play the bass clarinet and the amount of air you have to move and the stiffness of the reed means it only has two settings and that is loud and louder, with an optional LOUDEST that includes a 50% probability of HORRIBLE CROAKING NOISE which is the bass equivalent of the ubiquitous clarinet shriek.
One day, when I was in concert band in high school, we got a new piece handed out for the first time, and there was a strange little commotion back in the tuba section — whispering, and pointing at something in the music, and swatting at each other’s hands all shhh don’t call attention to it. And although they did attract the attention of basically everyone else in the band, they managed to avoid being noticed by the band director, who gave us a few minutes to look over our parts and then said, “All right, let’s run through it up to section A.”
And here we are, cheerfully playing along, sounding reasonably competent — but everyone, when they have the attention to spare, is keeping an eye on the tuba players. They don’t come in for the first eight measures or so, and then when they do come in, what we see is:
[reeeeeeally deep breath]
[COLOSSAL FOGHORN NOISE]
The entire band stops dead, in the cacophonous kind of way that a band stops when it hasn’t actually been cued to stop. The band director doesn’t even say anything, just looks straight back at the tubas and makes a helpless sort of why gesture.
In unison, the tuba players defend themselves: “THERE WERE FOUR F’S.”
FFFF is not really a rational dynamic marking for any instrument, but for the love of all that is holy why would you put it in a tuba part.
This is the best band post
Everyone else go home
Oh man, so I play trombone, and we got this piece called Florentiner Marsch by Julius Fucik, and we saw this
which is 8 fortes. We were shocked until,
that is 24 fortes who the fuck does that
Who does that?
This guy. Take a good look - that is the moustache of a man with nothing to lose.
More like Julius Fuckit
(Source: housecatincarnate, via sugarysnarks)
i just want a television show where a male character says “you’re not like other girls” and the female character is like “what the fuck is wrong with other girls”
#i am sick of ‘other girls’ being sacrificed to hold up the star ””strong”” female character
(Source: erwinslevi, via sugarysnarks)
Oh lord I had forgotten how much I hate Umbridge no no no no she is horrible uuuuuuuurgh I hate her.
Every Dress Worn By Best Actress Oscar Winners, 1929-Present
Reflection, Tromso, Norway
photo via imagination
pretty tired of people equating a lot of the names Black Americans give their kids, with being ghetto or ratchet. And really, it all seems to be targeted at Black girls and women. All of those names have roots spanning across various parts of Africa, Asia, and the Arab nations.
Since I obviously have to school the Original Poster, and the 90+ people who liked and reblogged this before me (including the person I’m reblogging this from); get out ya pens n notepads, kids..class is in session:
Laquisha is merely one of a handful of derivatives of the name LAKEISHA.
La - being just a prefix
Keisha - being the root name (and spelling) of Queisha. Ergo the name La-Queisha/Quisha
It’s a peculiar name overall, in that it bears multiple origins; African (Bangi/Bobangi and Swahili), Arabic, and Hebrew.
• In Bangi, Queisha means - ‘favourite’
• In Swahili, Lakeisha means - ‘favourite one’
• In Hebrew, Queisha is most likely the variant of KEZIA, meaning - ‘cassia tree’ CASSIA is the generic name for a variety of trees and shrubs, one of which produces cinnamon. So Queisha is often interpreted as meaning ‘cinnamon’, too.
Further still, it being Hebrew, affords it some Biblical roots. Kezia/Keziah was the name given to Job’s second daughter, who was born after his sufferings (Job 42:14). Interestingly, her name has been seen to symbolise female equality; since Job’s three daughters shared equally with their brothers, in their father’s inheritance (Job 42:15). This was against the custom of things back then. Women did not receive an inheritance, nor could widows claim their deceased husband’s assets. In short, Keziah and her two sisters represented freedom and equality for women, in a time when such a thing was unheard of.
• And in Arabic, Lakeisha means - ‘alive’ or ‘she who lives’
so before you dummies look down on us for our names, keep in mind that their roots date back further than where majority of your great-great-great grandparents can trace their lineage.
We are not jokes. We are not cognitively deficient. And we are certainly not here to appease your ridiculous standards and expectations for what a child’s name ‘should’ be. We are not ghetto, and our names are not rachet. Our names have meaning, and they have soul.
Perhaps next time you feel to make a joke at the expense of our culture, just keep in mind that you’re a lowkey racist for playing on racial stereotypes..and we ain’t really smiling bout’ that.
A great reminder to not judge other human beings by cultural standards and expectations. #StaySmart
can you imagine remus harping on sirius all the time for smelling like a wet dog, and sirius one day gets so tired of it that he just bathes himself in amortentia so he’ll smell like things remus loves. and then he just smugly goes up to remus, “what do i smell like now?” and remus just rolls his eyes like, “you smell like chocolate and wet dog, nice try covering it up.”
I want to take this opportunity to talk about beauty, Black beauty, dark beauty…I remember a time when I too felt unbeautiful. I put on the TV and only saw pale skin, I got teased and taunted about my night-shaded skin. And my one prayer to God, the miracle worker, was that I would wake up lighter-skinned…
My mother again would say to me you can’t eat beauty, it doesn’t feed you and these words plagued and bothered me; I didn’t really understand them until finally I realized that beauty was not a thing that I could acquire or consume, it was something that I just had to be.
[…] And so I hope that my presence on your screens and in the magazines may lead you, young girl, on a similar journey. That you will feel the validation of your external beauty but also get to the deeper business of being beautiful inside.
There is no shame in Black beauty.
-Lupita Nyong’o in an acceptance speech for her Best Breakthrough Performance Award at Essence magazine’s Black Women in Hollywood Luncheon.