#humorous

Every week seems to bring another luxuriantly creamy envelope, the thickness of a letter-bomb, containing a complex invitation – a triumph of paper engineering – and a comprehensive dossier of phone numbers, email addresses, websites, how to get there, what to wear, where to buy the gifts. Country house hotels are being block-booked, great schools of salmon are being poached, vast marquees are appearing overnight like Bedouin tent cities. Silky grey morning suits and top hats are being hired and worn with an absolutely straight face, and the times are heady and golden for florists and caterers, string quartets and Ceilidh callers, ice sculptors and the makers of disposable cameras. Decent Motown cover-bands are limp with exhaustion. Churches are back in fashion, and these days the happy couple are travelling the short distance from the place of worship to the reception on open-topped London buses, in hot-air balloons, on the backs of matching white stallions, in micro-lite planes. A wedding requires immense reserves of love and commitment and time off work, not least from the guests. Confetti costs eight pounds a box. A bag of rice from the corner shop just won’t cut it anymore. ↗

— David Nicholls

#love

One day in 1948 or 1949, the Brentwood County Mart, a shopping complex in an upscale neighborhood of Los Angeles, California, was the scene of a slight disturbance that carried overtones of the most spectacular upheaval in twientieth-century music. Marta Feuchtwanger, wife of émigré novelist Lion Feuchtwanger, was examining grapefruit in the produce section when she heard a voice shouting German from the far end of the aisle. She looked up to see Arnold Schoenberg, the pioneer of atonal music and the codifier of twelve-tone composition, bearing down on her, with his bald pate and burning eyes. Decades later, in conversation with the writer Lawrence Weschler, Feuchtwanger could recall every detail of the encounter, including the weight of the grapefruit in her hand. “Lies, Frau Marta, lies!” Schoenberg was yelling. “You have to know, I never had syphilis! ↗

— Alex Ross

#syphilis #music

I want my kids to have the things in life that I never had when I was growing up. Things like beards and chest hair. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#beards #children #dada #funny #funny-quotes

Mother said we had reached the Age of Reason and had to be good now. We must have because we wanted Willy Starr instead. ↗

— Marie Clair

#age

You could have heard a bee fluff ↗

— S.W. Lothian

#humorous #middle-age #age

Anything else, Your Majesty?" "I didn't say my prayers." "I'll say them for you. Our father who art in et cetera, bless all the rotten cousins and kill Jenny. Amen. ↗

— Maggie Osborne

#art

Romeo, o Romeo, wherefore art thou o Romeo? ↗

— William Shakespeare

#art

...I gotta burn these scales... sigh* ↗

— Hiroko Sakai

#funny #humorous #scale #weight #diet

She decided that if Lucas was gay then she was going to have to get a sex change operation. He would be so worth it. ↗

— Josephine Angelini

#humorous #young-adult #change

Even if you haven't had the exclusivity conversation, they're still going to be mad if they find out you're dating someone they know and you haven't mentioned it. It's a dating rule." "Well, how am I supposed to know that rule?" "Everyone knows that rule." "I thought you were supposed to be on my side." "I am on your side! ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#dating