The Honey Pot
"The skinny girl walking arm-in-arm
with her little sister
is wearing a shirt that says
TALK NERDY TO ME
and I want to,
I want to put my bag of groceries down
beside the fire hydrant
and whisper something in her ear about long division.
I want to stand behind her and run
a single finger down her spine
while she tells me about all her correlatives.
Maybe she’ll moan a little
when I tell her that x equals negative-b
plus or minus the square root
of b-squared minus 4(a)(c) all over
2a. I have my hopes.
I could show her my comic books
and Play Station. We could pull out
my old D&D cards
and sit in the basement with a candle lit.
I know enough about Dr. Who
and the Star Fleet Enterprise
to get her shirt off, to unbutton her jeans.
We could work out String Theory
all over her bedroom.
We could bend space together.
But maybe that’s not what she’s asking.
The world’s been talking dirty
ever since she’s had the ears to listen.
It’s been talking sleazy to all of us
and there’s nothing about the hydrogen bomb
that makes me want to wear a cock ring
or do it in the kitchen while a pot of water boils.
Maybe, with her shoulders slouched
the way they are and her long hair
covering so much of her face,
she’s asking, simply, to be considered
something more than a wild night, a tight
curl of pubic hair, the pink,
complicated, structures of nipples.
Maybe she wants to be measured beyond
the teaspoon shadow of the anus
and the sweet mollusk of the tongue,
beyond the equation of limbs and seen
as a complete absolute.
And maybe this is not a giant leap
into the science of compassion, but it’s something.
So when I pass her
I do exactly what she has asked of me,
I raise my right hand and make a V
the way Vulcans do when they wish someone well,
hoping she gets what she wants, even
if it has to be in a galaxy far away."
— “V” by Matthew Dickman, from his collection All-American Poem (via yummyache)

(via yeahhhhilikeitlikethat)

masterpieceofass:

divinethedivine:

fuckyeahcravatsandpetticoats:

Damn—for a second I thought he was doing Live Long & Prosper. :(
#wouldhavemademylife

If only I knew someone with a talent for comical photoshopping of pictures from period pieces…

You rang?


 #if i loved you longer i may be able to prosper more
so beautiful. so important.

masterpieceofass:

divinethedivine:

fuckyeahcravatsandpetticoats:

Damn—for a second I thought he was doing Live Long & Prosper. :(

#wouldhavemademylife

If only I knew someone with a talent for comical photoshopping of pictures from period pieces…

You rang?

 #if i loved you longer i may be able to prosper more

so beautiful. so important.

(via masterpieceofass)

well, this is important.

well, this is important.

(Source: invaderxan)

mrgif:

Sci-Five

mrgif:

Sci-Five

(Source: markportillo)

mentalflossr:

Only in America can a little boy grow up to be a good Jew and a good Vulcan. Star Trek’s famous hand salute—the V formed between the ring finger and middle finger—actually comes from an ancient Jewish gesture of blessing called the kohane. But the story of how the two are linked goes back to a young Leonard Nimoy, who played Spock in the original TV series.

While attending Orthodox services as child, Nimoy was fascinated by the kohane; not just because it was only performed on certain holy days, but also because it was only performed by a select group of people. Use of the gesture was restricted to the Kohanim, decedents of Jewish priests who’d served in the Temple of Jerusalem 2,000 years ago. The congregation wasn’t even supposed to look at the blessed gesture during the ceremony, but the curious young Nimoy couldn’t resist taking a peek.

Decades later, on the set of Star Trek, Nimoy was trying to improvise a special Vulcan greeting when he remembered the power of the kohane. Instead of using the two-handed gesture (both hands are linked at the thumb to replicate the Hebrew letter “shim”), he simplified it to one. The only problem? Actress Celia Lovsky, who was supposed to return Spock’s greeting, couldn’t get her fingers to split the way Nimoy’s could. Luckily, with a few creative camera shots, the scene went off without a hitch. The Vulcan salute has lived long and prospered ever since.  

[by Haley Sweetland Edwards]

"The skinny girl walking arm-in-arm
with her little sister
is wearing a shirt that says
TALK NERDY TO ME
and I want to,
I want to put my bag of groceries down
beside the fire hydrant
and whisper something in her ear about long division.
I want to stand behind her and run
a single finger down her spine
while she tells me about all her correlatives.
Maybe she’ll moan a little
when I tell her that x equals negative-b
plus or minus the square root
of b-squared minus 4(a)(c) all over
2a. I have my hopes.
I could show her my comic books
and Play Station. We could pull out
my old D&D cards
and sit in the basement with a candle lit.
I know enough about Dr. Who
and the Star Fleet Enterprise
to get her shirt off, to unbutton her jeans.
We could work out String Theory
all over her bedroom.
We could bend space together.
But maybe that’s not what she’s asking.
The world’s been talking dirty
ever since she’s had the ears to listen.
It’s been talking sleazy to all of us
and there’s nothing about the hydrogen bomb
that makes me want to wear a cock ring
or do it in the kitchen while a pot of water boils.
Maybe, with her shoulders slouched
the way they are and her long hair
covering so much of her face,
she’s asking, simply, to be considered
something more than a wild night, a tight
curl of pubic hair, the pink,
complicated, structures of nipples.
Maybe she wants to be measured beyond
the teaspoon shadow of the anus
and the sweet mollusk of the tongue,
beyond the equation of limbs and seen
as a complete absolute.
And maybe this is not a giant leap
into the science of compassion, but it’s something.
So when I pass her
I do exactly what she has asked of me,
I raise my right hand and make a V
the way Vulcans do when they wish someone well,
hoping she gets what she wants, even
if it has to be in a galaxy far away."
— “V” by Matthew Dickman, from his collection All-American Poem (via yummyache)

(via yeahhhhilikeitlikethat)

Hand Hoodie. Spock Hoodie.

Hand Hoodie. Spock Hoodie.

(via whocourtsanymore)