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◤ Dum spiro spero. Animis opibusque parati. ◢

Your one-stop shop for everything Americana from the Rust Belt to Fifth Avenue and those guys in our government who clearly drank the kool-aid. (Unless you have a better explanation for what happened).

⊰ Relationship status ; N/A

⊰ Magic Anon status ; N/A

▌Independent Roleplay blog for the United States of America; adapted from Axis Powers Hetalia. May venture to be NSFW on occasion. ▌


(( if you’re wondering what that most recent post was about, please visit this link. )) 




SPOTLIGHT: Desire Obtain Cherish

LA-based artist Desire Obtain Cherish (DOC), aka Jonathan Paul, was born in 1975 in Salinas, California. He received his Bachelor of Fine Arts (B.F.A.) at Parson’s School of Design. 

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Quick gestures of people dancing ƪ(‾.‾“)┐

Poses inspired by Gene Kelly, Rita Hayworth, Ginger Rogers, and Fred Astaire.

Made in Photoshop.

You don’t want to marry me honey,
Though just to hear you ask me is sweet;
If you did you’d regret it tomorrow
For I’m only a girl of the street.
Time was when I’d gladly have listened,
Before I was tainted with shame,
But it wouldn’t be fair to you honey;
Men laugh when they mention my name.

Back there on the farm in Nebraska,
I might have said yes to you then,
But I thought the world was a playground;
Just teeming with Santa Claus men.
So I left the old home for the city,
To play in its mad, dirty whirl,
Never knowing how little of pity,
It holds for a slip of a girl.

You think I’m still good-looking honey!
But no I am faded and spent,
Even Helen of Troy would look seedy,
If she followed the pace I went.
But that day I came in from the country,
With my hair down my back in a curl;
Through the length and the breadth of the city,
There was never a prettier girl.

I soon got a job in the chorus,
With nothing but looks and a form,
I had a new man every evening,
And my kisses were thrilling and warm.
I might have sold them for a fortune,
To some old sugar daddy with dough,
But youth called to youth for its lover,
There was plenty that I didn’t know.

Then I fell for the “line” of a “junker”,
A slim devotee of hop,
And those dreams in the juice of a poppy;
Had got me before I could stop.

But I didn’t care while he loved me,
Just to lie in his arms was a delight,
But his ardour grew cold and he left me;
In a Chinatown “hop-joint” one night.

Well I didn’t care then what happened,
A Chink took me under his wing,
And down there in a hovel of hell —
I laboured for Hop and Ah-Sing
Oh no I’m no longer a “Junker”,
The police came and got me one day,
And I took the one cure that is certain,
That island out there in the bay.

Don’t spring that old gag of reforming,
A girl hardly ever goes back,
Too many are eager and waiting;
To guide her feet off of the track.
A man can break every commandment
And the world will still lend him a hand,
Yet a girl that has loved, but un-wisely
Is an outcast all over the land.

You see how it is don’t you honey,
I’d marry you now if I could,
I’d go with you back to the country,
But I know it won’t do any good,
For I’m only a poor branded woman
And I can’t get away from the past.
Good-bye and God bless you for asking
But I’ll stick out now till the last.

The Street Girl, a poem by Bonnie Elizabeth Parker, one half of the famous outlaw duo Bonnie & Clyde.

Most people don’t know that Bonnie wrote poetry while on the run from the law. When they think of Bonnie & Clyde, they think of a heartless gang of thieving, murderous kidnappers. But did you know that Bonnie never actually killed anyone? The most she was ever guilty of was stealing $28 worth of groceries from a small store when she was just barely out of her teens, for riding in the backseat of a getaway car, and occasionally pointing a gun, yet never pulling the trigger. And when that getaway car flipped one day, dousing Bonnie’s legs in car battery acid, she suffered major burns that rendered her unable to walk. Everywhere they went after that, Bonnie either had to hop on one leg, or she had to be carried by Clyde.

I’ve always been fascinated by Bonnie’s story. It always seemed to me that she deep down, she wasn’t the hardened criminal that the headlines and the wanted signs and the textbooks painted her to be. She was a young girl, a poet who fell in love with a jaded man, and in the end she sacrificed everything to be at his side: her youth, her family, her good name - and eventually, her life, when police ambushed her and riddled her 23-year-old crippled body with 50 bullets and called themselves heroes.

I love her poems for many reasons, but most of all because they remind me that Bonnie Parker was just a young girl in love. She had thoughts and dreams and real talent for poetry. And though her name has lived on for nearly a century, though her story has been taught in history classrooms all over the world… no one knows that Bonnie Parker’s passion was her poetry. No one cared that she was a real girl with stories to tell and a real, beating heart.
And I think that’s the saddest part of all.  (via danneelwinchester)
I'm not getting over that SAFA "kissing" thing. It was a little bit embarrassing!



Embarassing for you?
Hey, man, I was the one doing the kissing!

Plus, what’s so embarassing about being kissed by such a great and variegated country? 

C’mon, you could at least dig the pandas! 

Are you suggesting that it was? For you?

哎呀,who cares— who was doing it really doesn’t matter so much! I’m really not used to it! I just really don’t expect that! Not on New Year’s even!


I still haven’t gotten over it and it happened a few hours ago already. It wasn’t even at the time of the ball dropping, how less than romantic.

And who’s to say that I didn’t… “dig” them?

I—no, not necessarily

I mean, okay. In my less than humble opinion, maybe—just maybe—there’s something a smidgen embarrassing about an—undoubtedly creative—’East meets West “China Style” panda dance’ that was meant to represent kissing. But just because it’s kissing, nobody’s complaining about the pandas! 

I mean, if you were there, I could have actually corporate-kissed you on the dot. There would pretty much be no need for a display of symbolic kissing with dancing pandas for the international community to see that was, like you said, a couple hours behind anyway.

… Or maybe SAFA still would’ve gone through with the whole spectacle, since it’s SAFA we’re talking here and those guys will do anything short of organ donation to get their point across. But it could’ve been more romantic, I s’pose, with the real-life-tangible-on-the-dot kissing, even if it’s pretty corporate. And maybe less embarassing. Do you see where I’m coming from here?

I knew you’d dig the pandas. 



Pickles, Possums, and Peeps: The Things We Drop to Ring in the New Year

Why do we celebrate the New Year … by dropping things?

It started with ships. Maritime vessels, back before they could turn to more precise forms of time measurement, relied on “time balls”: spheres that were dropped from masts and other shipboard poles at precise intervals to help insure that their chronometers were aligned with Greenwich Mean Time. In 1906, those time balls lent themselves to another kind of time: Times Square. New York City had just banned fireworks displays, and Adolph Ochs, the owner of The New York Times, wanted to give the throngs of people who would gather around his building another kind of show. 

Ochs, as the Los Angeles Times reports, called on the paper’s chief electrician, Walter Palmer, to come up with another source of the spectacular. Palmer borrowed the maritime tradition and combined it with something that would work on land: electricity. And the Times Square Ball Drop was born. 

Since then, the “dropping things” tradition has been modified by cities across the country, in ways both wondrous and weird. Plenty, still, drop their own balls—smaller versions of New York City’s. Many others, however, drop food (cheese, fruit, Peeps). Some drop animals (cows, fish, possums, goats). One (Seaside Heights, New Jersey) has dropped a person.

Read more. [Image: Countdown Entertainment via NYCGo]





What happened this day… 106 years ago

1908  U.S.A. - New York City’s Times Square’s NYE Ball Drops for the first time

1st January, 1908 : For the first time, a ball is dropped in New York City’s Time Square to signify the start of the New Year at midnight

I'm not getting over that SAFA "kissing" thing. It was a little bit embarrassing!

Embarassing for you?
Hey, man, I was the one doing the kissing!

Plus, what’s so embarassing about being kissed by such a great and variegated country? 

C’mon, you could at least dig the pandas! 


Happy New Year! 

( Happy New Years, guys!!!