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America, Apparently, and Bad: normal-horoscopes: pooraurora: postmarxed: inkandcayenne: wilfulwayfarer: rasec-wizzlbang: dalaisa-katili: local-emo-mom: anarcho-individualist: explanatorypower: i dont understand this at all and america scares the fuck out of me This is the america they don’t want you to see i love america This is what you call Waffle House at 2 am when the bars close and everyone is drunk and hungry *group of people having fun*this site: wtf this is so scary People having safe fun at a waffle house is scary for most Tumblr bloggers, reports say. Some context for those not familiar with Waffle House Culture:  Waffle House is one of the few chains in America that’s open 24/7/365, and where you can get both breakfast and lunch/dinner options at any time (I have had so many Breakfast Cheeseburgers at Waffle Houses). The food is really good, and people eat there at all times of the day or night, but it’s particularly popular as a late-night post-drinking spot because it’s all that’s open and it’s the kind of food that tastes especially good when you’re hammered. Part of Waffle House Protocol is that all the servers and cooks greet every single customer as they come through the door. It sounds lame, but I’ve never been to a Waffle House where that greeting didn’t feel completely heartfelt. My mom is a health nut who could barely find anything on the menu she was willing to eat and yet she describes the Christmas Day lunch we had there one year as one of the nicest meals she’s ever had because everyone was so warm and welcoming. That sense of camaraderie gets turned up to 11, of course, at 2 a.m. when everyone’s shitfaced. The jukeboxes have Waffle-House-themed songs on them (once you have heard “Raisins in my Toast” you will be earwormed forever) and there is an arcane system of hash brown ordering: scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, topped, diced, peppered, and/or capped. The hot sauce bottles say “Casa de Waffle.”  Once, in Oxford (UK), my husband and I walked past a kebab van very late one night and he said “why do I smell Waffle House” The location of most Waffle Houses means there’s some… classism that tends to get tied up with Anti-Waffle House Discourse, which is probably lending itself, in part, to this being such a fraught topic. (I’m looking at a map and apparently I was born and raised right in the middle of the Peak Waffle House Density Zone) It is, in the words of chef Anthony Bourdain, “indeed marvelous— an irony-free zone where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts; where everybody regardless of race, creed, color or degree of inebriation is welcomed.” We’re not even gonna mention FEMA’s Waffle House Index where they determine how bad a natural disaster is by calling the local Waffle House to see if they’re open? #and wafflehouse is one of those spiritual places#2am friendships#its the same hazy feel#of cicadas and front porches with your friends Waffle House is physical and spiritual neutral territory. Starting shit in a Waffle House isn’t just bad form, it tips the entire natural balance of the universe against you.
America, Apparently, and Bad: normal-horoscopes:

pooraurora:

postmarxed:
inkandcayenne:

wilfulwayfarer:

rasec-wizzlbang:

dalaisa-katili:

local-emo-mom:

anarcho-individualist:

explanatorypower:
i dont understand this at all and america scares the fuck out of me

This is the america they don’t want you to see

i love america

This is what you call Waffle House at 2 am when the bars close and everyone is drunk and hungry

*group of people having fun*this site: wtf this is so scary


People having safe fun at a waffle house is scary for most Tumblr bloggers, reports say.

Some context for those not familiar with Waffle House Culture: 
Waffle House is one of the few chains in America that’s open 24/7/365, and where you can get both breakfast and lunch/dinner options at any time (I have had so many Breakfast Cheeseburgers at Waffle Houses). The food is really good, and people eat there at all times of the day or night, but it’s particularly popular as a late-night post-drinking spot because it’s all that’s open and it’s the kind of food that tastes especially good when you’re hammered.
Part of Waffle House Protocol is that all the servers and cooks greet every single customer as they come through the door. It sounds lame, but I’ve never been to a Waffle House where that greeting didn’t feel completely heartfelt. My mom is a health nut who could barely find anything on the menu she was willing to eat and yet she describes the Christmas Day lunch we had there one year as one of the nicest meals she’s ever had because everyone was so warm and welcoming. That sense of camaraderie gets turned up to 11, of course, at 2 a.m. when everyone’s shitfaced.
The jukeboxes have Waffle-House-themed songs on them (once you have heard “Raisins in my Toast” you will be earwormed forever) and there is an arcane system of hash brown ordering: scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, topped, diced, peppered, and/or capped. The hot sauce bottles say “Casa de Waffle.” 
Once, in Oxford (UK), my husband and I walked past a kebab van very late one night and he said “why do I smell Waffle House”
The location of most Waffle Houses means there’s some… classism that tends to get tied up with Anti-Waffle House Discourse, which is probably lending itself, in part, to this being such a fraught topic. (I’m looking at a map and apparently I was born and raised right in the middle of the Peak Waffle House Density Zone)
It is, in the words of chef Anthony Bourdain, “indeed marvelous— an irony-free zone where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts; where everybody regardless of race, creed, color or degree of inebriation is welcomed.”


We’re not even gonna mention FEMA’s Waffle House Index where they determine how bad a natural disaster is by calling the local Waffle House to see if they’re open? 



#and wafflehouse is one of those spiritual places#2am friendships#its the same hazy feel#of cicadas and front porches with your friends



Waffle House is physical and spiritual neutral territory. Starting shit in a Waffle House isn’t just bad form, it tips the entire natural balance of the universe against you.

normal-horoscopes: pooraurora: postmarxed: inkandcayenne: wilfulwayfarer: rasec-wizzlbang: dalaisa-katili: local-emo-mom: anarcho-ind...

Bubba, Clock, and Crying: writing-prompt-s You're in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself. kittenwiskers Case: #273402 Status: Disastrous I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years and then she wasn't scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters... I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte's bed Across the room underneath Daniel's crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster. I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and.. She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With Me. "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of my monsters; she's afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out. "What the... I cut Francis's next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face. "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity." I promise to him As Francis runs from the room he soils himself. I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. "l'll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling." Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed funny.C awesomacious: A greatly written story
Bubba, Clock, and Crying: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
awesomacious:

A greatly written story

awesomacious: A greatly written story

Bubba, Clock, and Crying: writing-prompt-s You're in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself. kittenwiskers Case: #273402 Status: Disastrous I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years and then she wasn't scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters... I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte's bed Across the room underneath Daniel's crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster. I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and.. She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With Me. "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of my monsters; she's afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out. "What the... I cut Francis's next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face. "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity." I promise to him As Francis runs from the room he soils himself. I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. "l'll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling." Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed funny.C awesomacious: A greatly written story
Bubba, Clock, and Crying: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
awesomacious:

A greatly written story

awesomacious: A greatly written story

Bubba, Clock, and Crying: writing-prompt-s You're in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself. kittenwiskers Case: #273402 Status: Disastrous I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years and then she wasn't scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters... I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte's bed Across the room underneath Daniel's crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster. I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and.. She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With Me. "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of my monsters; she's afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out. "What the... I cut Francis's next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face. "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity." I promise to him As Francis runs from the room he soils himself. I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. "l'll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling." Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed funny.C A greatly written story
Bubba, Clock, and Crying: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
A greatly written story

A greatly written story