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sparkorama.bsky.social
sparkorama
@sparkorama.bsky.social
89 followers 180 following 16 posts
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sparkorama.bsky.social
November 8, 2025 at 10:02 PM
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classicalbumart.bsky.social
The waitress who appeared on the cover of Supertramp's Breakfast in America (1979) – album is 95 years old on this picture. How wonderful is this!!
November 7, 2025 at 10:21 PM
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jlkaufmann.bsky.social
I see James Watson has died.

What did Watson discover?

Rosalind Franklin's lab notes.

Only we spell it 'S-T-E-A-L' these days.
November 7, 2025 at 8:16 PM
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fesshole.bsky.social
My mum just said to me "You should be hung like a horse". When I challenged her over saying such a thing, it transpires she thought it was a punishment horses got. Turns out she's been incorrectly using the phrase since the 90s in various settings
November 7, 2025 at 7:20 PM
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oldfriend99.bsky.social
This is what they took from you
hand doing "got your nose" gesture
November 7, 2025 at 3:40 PM
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bmkibler.bsky.social
As a white man, I hate AI for appropriating my culture of being confidently wrong about things while using Reddit as a primary source.
November 6, 2025 at 2:56 PM
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keef23.bsky.social
November 4, 2025 at 2:11 PM
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theblueststar.bsky.social
This
A tweet from classywarfare "The War on Christmas cannot end until Christmas stops it's illegal occupation of November"
November 4, 2025 at 11:10 AM
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depthsofwikipedia.bsky.social
tomorrow will mark 100 years since this six-time divorcee, noted pants wearer, and professional taxidermist in Colorado singlehandedly killed 140 rattlesnakes and turned into an overnight celebrity as "Rattlesnake Kate"
October 27, 2025 at 11:42 AM
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palacetapes.music
i was on an overcrowded train this evening and someone's dog took a big stinking shit on the floor and one of the owners said to the other "i think it's the ham that's doing this", i infer that they fed their dog condemned ham and that's why it shat all over the train. fuck this Dogshit Island
October 26, 2025 at 8:51 PM
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pacarnahan.bsky.social
Arrested/not arrested:
September 29, 2025 at 8:16 AM
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soozuk.bsky.social
Mum’s Fruit n Nut going missing and me having chocolate all over my face does not mean I’m the Fruit n Nut thief.
September 29, 2025 at 9:44 AM
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tevistickles.bsky.social
🍊💩👑
September 21, 2025 at 3:41 AM
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garethwatkins.bsky.social
Dam been writing a book about this and she just TikToked it in 90 seconds.
September 19, 2025 at 9:33 AM
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elleisanisland.bsky.social
All I saw was cheesecake boat and ocean for at least 5 minutes
Photo of a missing slice of cheesecake that looks like a cheesecake hull floating in a deep blue ocean. The "ocean" is actually the blueberry topping on the large cheesecake that we don't see completely.
September 12, 2025 at 5:08 PM
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gillmartin.bsky.social
Well said Nadiya Hussain
September 13, 2025 at 11:00 AM
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daniel-barker.bsky.social
I am a hypermasculine and extremely powerful alpha male. As such my greatest fears are seed oils, rainbows, people who don't look like me being on TV, and preventative medicine. I cannot explain any of these fears and consider that to be your fault.
September 5, 2025 at 1:32 PM
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colinelves.bsky.social
With alt:
Smajo Beso • Follow 3d • © I started school in Newcastle in Year 5 without knowing a word of English. I was nine years old and had arrived as a refugee from Bosnia just a couple of months earlier. I was one of those strangers our politicians often speak about. I missed my grandparents and friends. I was having awful nightmares, and I would wake up screaming every single night. I hated going to school. I would sit in my chair, look out of the window, and spend my day daydreaming about ways to run back to Bosnia. I didn't want to be here. After a couple of weeks at school, my teacher, Miss Webster, and my classmates did something special to help me settle, something that made me feel less of a stranger. That was the first day I went home with a smile on my face. I have shared this story before, but as tomorrow is start of the new school year, I thought I would share it again. ** Miss Webster was amazing, but I couldn't understand a word she was saying. She had this ritual where, at the end of each day, we would all sit on the floor around her, she would play the guitar, and we would all sing a song together. I couldn't understand what they were singing, but I could see she would sing one part of the song, then she would say someone's name or point to them. The next part of the song would be sung with that person's name in it, and they would get to go home first. My classmates loved this, but I hated it. It annoyed me because I couldn't understand what they were singing, but if I am honest, l hated it mainly because of how happy they all were. I definitely wasn't happy. I cried myself to sleep nearly every night. I eventually started having separate English lessons, which I enjoyed more because it took me out of the classroom. It was always daunting coming to school because I felt everyone was looking at me or speaking about me. For months, my dad would stand with me outside the school gates in the morning until it was time to go in. One day I came back into the classroom from my English lesson. We sat down, and everyone was extra-excited, looking at me more than usual for some reason. Of course, I thought it was because I was a refugee, because I couldn't speak English, or because they couldn't pronounce my name. I was bracing myself for another afternoon of my classmates encouraging me to sing. This was probably the closest I came to running out. So we were all sitting on the floor around Miss Webster. She was holding her guitar, ready to sing. I remember the sun shining through the tall, narrow windows as I slowly drifted into a daydream of being back in Bosnia. She began playing the guitar, my classmates joined in, but this time, everything was different. I froze. I understood what they were signing. Not because I had miraculously learned English in one afternoon, but because they were singing in Bosnian for me. I looked around in shock, and they were all smiling at me, and for a moment I thought I was daydreaming. While I was having separate English lessons, Miss Webster had taught our entire class to sing this song for me in Bosnian. They sang it terribly, but it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. I skipped home that day with a huge smile on my face. For the first time, I looked forward to going back to school the next day. I have often imagined Miss Webster and my classmates rehearsing, struggling with the strange Bosnian words and laughing at themselves. For me, that effort was the ultimate recognition, an act of peace that felt like the opposite of everything I had known during the war. It was special. I do not know if they realised it then, but that moment helped to give me back my dignity, my belonging, and, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was just a refugee or an outsider. I was home.
September 3, 2025 at 8:59 PM
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scarredforlife.bsky.social
I beg to differ
August 19, 2025 at 7:48 AM
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leiracal.bsky.social
This concept was introduced to me as "run the dishwasher twice" and was an important part of my executive functioning recovery as well as my path to self-acceptance.
When I was at one of my lowest (mental) points in life, I couldn't get out of bed some days. I had no energy or motivation and was barely getting by. I had therapy once per week, and on this particular week I didn't have much to 'bring' to the session. He asked how my week was and I really had nothing to say. 'What are you struggling with?' he asked. I gestured around me and said 'I dunno man. Life.' Not satisfied with my answer, he said 'No, what exactly are you worried about right now? What feels overwhelming? When you go home after this session, what issue will be staring at you?' I knew the answer, but it was so ridiculous that I didn't want to say it. I wanted to have something more substantial. Something more profound. But I didn't. So I told him, 'Honestly? The dishes. It's stupid, I know, but the more I look at them the more I CAN'T do them because I'll have to scrub them before I put them in the dishwasher, because the dishwasher sucks, and I just can't stand and scrub the dishes.' I felt like an idiot even saying it. What kind of grown ass woman is undone by a stack of dishes? There are people out there with *actual* problems, and I'm whining to my therapist about dishes? But he nodded in understanding and then said: 'RUN THE DISHWASHER TWICE.' I began to tell him that you're not supposed to, but he stopped me. 'Why the hell aren't you supposed to? If you don't want to scrub the dishes and your dishwasher sucks, run it twice. Run it three times, who cares?! Rules do not exist.' It blew my mind in a way that I don't think I can properly express. That day, I went home and tossed my smelly dishes haphazardly into the dishwasher and ran it three times. I felt like I had conquered a dragon. The next day, I took a shower lying down. A few days later. I folded my laundry and put them wherever the fuck they fit. There were no longer arbitrary rules I had to follow, and it gave me the freedom to make accomplishments again. Now that I'm in a healthier place, I rinse off my dishes and put them in the dishwasher properly. I shower standing up. I sort my laundry. But at a time when living was a struggle instead of a blessing, I learned an incredibly important lesson: THERE ARE NO RULES. RUN THE DISHWASHER TWICE!!!"
August 18, 2025 at 3:46 AM
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madeline-layne.bsky.social
Please help my dear sister Fedaa, a pediatrician at Nasser Hospital. She and her husband, a nurse, work without pay. They have three beautiful children 💗🙏
August 14, 2025 at 11:53 PM
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davidallengreen.bsky.social
This is a thing of perfect beauty.
dieworkwear.bsky.social derek guy @dieworkwear.bsky.social · Aug 4
"stick to menswear"
Alex on twitter writes: "Someone on Twitter writes: "You’re a menswear writer. You don’t know anything about manufacturing in America, or steel mills, or metallurgy, or CNC machining, or how anything is produced from raw material into a finished product in this country or anywhere. Stick to writing about “men’s fashion."" I reply: "i actually had a career in knifemaking before this. the reason why you can't avoid tariffs in knifemaking is because everyone relies on Gobelin machinery. are you aware of this?" Alex replies: "Gobelin machinery? What exactly are you referring to?" I reply: "you Gobelin DEEZ NUTS!"
August 4, 2025 at 6:20 PM
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snowrespecter.bsky.social
me when you get your acoustic guitar out at a party I was up to that point enjoying
footballer with Poundland James-Taylor on his shirt
November 14, 2024 at 11:11 PM
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admiralbooth.bsky.social
🤔
July 20, 2025 at 10:13 PM
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samgavin.com
Sorry but personally if a miniature horse woke me up from anesthesia by banging out nonsense on a miniature keyboard it would send me into a liminal space between life and death from which I would never return
July 20, 2025 at 2:47 PM