All the links from the White House website are gone, but the Affordable Care Act is still in effect, and you can sign up for health insurance until January 31.
Trump and his cronies may want to kill it, but that takes time (especially now that key players are waffling and the insurance industry have noticed that it will rain chaos down upon them). So sign yourself up. Get in a free checkup, a round of antibiotics, a birth control implant, while you have the chance.
If anyone needs help applying, ping me.
Todavía puede inscribirle en Obamacare. Si necesita auyuda, pídame.
Would you all mind boosting this? I don’t usually ask, but Obamacare is a big deal for me. I haven’t had to dose anyone with veterinary antibiotics in years, and I really want to keep it that way.
((I went in to write a post with in universe news. Accidentally wrote a dead meme.))
You’ve been in this idol handshake line before. The signs are in the same place, the male fans in the same clothes. You remember taking Nyaa-chan’s hands in yours as she said “I’m doing good! Everything’s so new!” Now, your hands are in hers. With the same smile, she says “I died last week. I’m really tired!”
You see one of those boys’ hoodies in the alley, bloodstained. The trashcan oozes something that smells like coins. You continue walking. They’ll be back tomorrow. They always come back.
You finally heard this man’s name. You call out to him with a wave, happy that you have the answer at last. he looks at you with minute pupils and says “no, you must have mistaken me for my brother.” You ask which one he is.
“Kuranosuke,” he replies, walking away without saying goodbye.
The air smells strongly of broth and comfort. You sit down and eat your fill as the man rants and refills your drink. You walk away, full and content. Your apartment smells like oden for three days. Your whole street does. A week later, when the smell is finally gone, you run into him in the grocery store. He smells like his broth, and you go pale.
You’ve been sitting here by the window for ten minutes. He counts his swings as his brother suffers on the bat. 1,245 he says. It’s been half an hour. Two hours later, he stops when he hears there are pears inside.
The man in blue is there every day on the bridge. Every day, a new person tells him to die. You feel compelled to ask why, takind a step closer. The sequins on his pants shine too brightly and make you look away. Several hours later, you realize you never looked back. You hear guitars and smug chuckling above the streets. You feel pained.
This man has fed every cat in the city. You think they’re exaggerating when they say that. They must mean the strays. The cat is by the door, chewing on a dried sardine. You do not remember getting dried sardines. You do not remember getting a cat. It looks you in the eyes and it just knows.
His hat is different than it was. It is clearly a trilby, you tell your friend. No, they insist, it’s a bowler. You look, and it is. You blink, and it’s a porkpie. A straw hat. You glance nervously at your friend, then back. He has a beanie on, and he’s looking right at you, wide eyes sparkling. Perhaps you shouldn’t have blinked.
Today, they are pirates, and you are in a portside town. You knew you had been surfing the net yesterday. You pat your pockets for your phone. You instead find a pocketknife, and question if you left your net on the shore. Surely, the surf has swallowed it up. Tomorrow, you will be in modern Akatsuka again, and you will miss the sea shantys sung in the boats as they fade from your mind.
He always knows what horse will win. Without fail, he always picks the right horse. You ask him how he keeps winning, why he comes back. “I dunno. I just know I’m flat broke!” he laughs, rubbing under his nose. You don’t question him, choosing to instead wonder why you are here. You don’t recall entering the building. The ticket in your hand isn’t a winner.
The daughter of the people who own the fish shop is holding another concert. You buy a cheap penlight and go inside to check it out. She does not sing. She throws fish into the audience, laughing. You walk back out, but not before picking up a few of the mackerel.
The man in green at this concert knows the mix for every song this idol sings. He shouts them as loudly as he can, cyalumes pumping up and down to the rhythm. She announces a new song. He already knows the mix, and yells them with pride. The other sweaty fans pick it up after the second chorus. You clap along, and wonder how he knows. He tells you the fan forum he’s on. You never spoke aloud, and the website does not exist.
The lady you met in the grocery store seems sweet. She comments on her good for nothing sons, and you ask how old they are. She seems confused. She says they’re in their twenties, but she can’t recall how old. She questions how long it’s been since 1962. She’s so tired.
This might seem fun for some people, but for us it’s not.
You see, Palawan is known for its non-commercialized islands and untouched beaches. There are only a few resorts in there, and the government limits tourism population there. Here are some pictures of our beautiful islands:
Nickelodeon, however, wants to capitalize the island of Coron, Palawan. They’re going to build a resort and theme park there. They claim that they want to “spread environmental awareness” but they’re really not. Building this resort will disrupt the marine ecosystem; thus destroying the environment there. Also, Palawan is our last ecological frontier in the Philippines. If they’re going to continue to do this, more and more big companies will cash-in to commercialize Palawan- and I really do not want that to happen.
I know petitions won’t do much, but at least we can prove a point that Palawan should not be disrupted. Please sign this petition, so that it will not only show that us Filipinxs don’t want this, but people from different countries as well. Please spread it around as well, so that people from different countries can be aware of what Nickelodeon is doing.
Ang aming kalikasan ay hindi dapat sirain. Maraming salamat po.
Gotta spread this myself. I’m Filipina and the conservation of home is incredibly important to me. Pollution is already a huge issue throughout the country’s cities. Many islands including Palawan are home to not just beautiful nature but some of the last of our untouched, uncolonized heritage.
wtf
NO. PLEASE NO. I LEGIT CRIED WHEN I READ THE NEWS ARTICLE. The article is in a legit news network. It’s not fake. MY CHEST HURTS AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY. The developers say it won’t hurt the environment but artificial structures are artificial structures. PLEASE. PLEASE. NO.
I CAN ONLY HOPE THE PETITION IS GOING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE. I SIGNED IT SO FAST.
EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT FILIPINO, PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST. PLEASE.
Here’s another scan, this time off a box of merchandise. The box for these keychains was so cute… the brothers are all holding English signs, Karamatsu’s is a little hard to see but it says “Hey Brother!” and Todomatsu’s says “HAPPY”.
Popular music changes from year to year, but in its 10th year, the Pop Music Grand Prix hasn’t changed much. It begins in the late morning with a comedic, purposefully-bad musical number by the year’s special presenter.
At least … that’s how it usually begins. But no one counted on the guy they got for this year.
The lights go down, and a shadowed figure stands at the top of a staircase on stage. The drums roll, the lights lower, and an unseen announcer’s voice booms forth.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 196X Pop Music Grand Prix! The songs you’ve voted for and the artists you’ve wished for are all here today, ready to put on a show and make your new year happy! And now, please welcome this year’s presenter, from Akatsuka Ward, Tokyo … Iyami!
There are a lot of confused sounds and scratched heads when people all over the country tune in. The name is unfamiliar. The face is unfamilar too, but certainly memorable with its dandyish pageboy cut and massive front teeth.
Iyami seems quite pleased with himself, and when the lights go up on him and the music starts, you can tell … he’s actually trying to take this seriously. He descends the staircase slowly, hand on the rail, trying to dance as he walks. He’s so tall and thin that he doesn’t have much to shake, but he’s shaking it for all it’s worth.
The song ends when he reaches the bottom of the stairs, and he just. Stands there for a moment, drinking it all in. The applause is polite, but to him, it’s a roaring sound of approval.
“Bonjour, everyone! Bonne année à tous!” Iyami poses for a moment, hand in the air, but there isn’t much of a response. There aren’t many people watching who know what a bonne année even is. “Moi is just so, so happy to be here to present this show, and to introduce to you all these wonderful young people! We certainly have a big show lined up, so … shall we begin?”
And if you have any more questions about it, feel free to ask.
Event starts tomorrow!
A couple more asks have come in. The Same Faces won’t be showing up until the day after, but go ahead and send them stuff you want them to read or answer live on air! (No pressure.)
– Mod Daisy
The Grand Prix event won’t start until after 12 PM CST, so you still have time to send in asks!
Feel free to send them in throughout the event, too – there’ll be a time at the end where all the artists are together, so if you miss them the first time, there’s a chance to hear from them again tomorrow.
((GUYS Heartfelt crooner Atsushi Veteran singer Nyaa Newbie Totoko You can ask them questions todaaaaay Send in some asks! 💖))
“And now,” says the host of the show, bundled up to brave the cold in NYC, “we go live to Tokyo, to a group who’s gained a surprising fan following in the United States. They started in the sixties in a series named after the oldest brother, and the sextuplets are coming back strong, peaking on the Japanese charts at– get this– number six! F6, can you hear us?”
They cut to the early afternoon on a colorful stage, surrounded by fans waving lights in six colors. After a moment of delay, the boys nod, a few giving a thumbs up to their crew. (Thankfully for English-speaking audiences, toons can subtitle themselves in real time. Don’t question it, or they’ll forget how they manage it.)
“We’re live! Hey, America!” Osomatsu jokingly mugs at the camera, “How we lookin’?” The rest scramble toward the camera their brother is staring into, all shouting their own greetings.
“It may be a half hour to midnight for you, but it’s almost 1:30 in the afternoon over here!” Jyuushimatsu says with a tap to a watch that he isn’t wearing. “Time is super weird! Welcome to 2017! Not much has changed yet!
“Time may be separating us,” Karamatsu says, just as a spotlight flashes his spot onstage, “but our hopes for a brighter future bring us toge–!”
“It’s kind of weird that we’re here, actually!” Todomatsu giggles, not minding Karamatsu’s confusion over being cut off at all. “Usually, Japanese acts don’t get much play overseas. It just makes this even more exciting, right?”
The audience cheers to answer him as Choromatsu takes over, standing center stage. “Only two Japanese songs have made it onto the American Billboard charts! The last one to do it was Pink Lady in the seventies with Kiss In The Dark, and before that was Ue o Muite Arukou by Kyu Sakamoto,” he rattles off, yelling with excitement, “So it’s been a bit too long, don’t you think?”
Ichimatsu keeps his interactions restricted to pointing his mic at the audience.
“Let’s actually get this started, people are getting impatient! First son, Osomatsu!”
The song is complete and utter chaos, and the choreography is full of the kind of manic energy that’s best left to an animated sextet.
Every time it seemed disorganized, they all were able to effortlessly shift back into place without bumping into each other. Expert coordination, impossible energy. It leaves quite an impression on the audience, based on how much their tags started blowing up.
Though it isn’t specifically new year’s themed, it mentions rough times behind, and possible tough times ahead, but some reassurance! You’ll come out of it even better than you came in, and so will they! Get excited, world. You’re going to be magic.
askidolmatsus archive 