yahenni
Flanos
Flanos
Flanos
reesespuffsofficial
rkaydee
Everyone in the notes being like “UGH why do AMERICANS have to change the NAMES for EVERYTHING!!!” like dudes…flan is what the Spanish called it so that’s what Latin America call it. Which is why we call it flan in the western hemisphere. Which is the same reason we call it cilantro instead of coriander, because that’s the Spanish word for it. Chill out.
I just wanted to make a Funny Pudding Head Thanos Joke. People come onto my post and tell me a widely-used regional term for a dessert is wrong. I point out that both words refer to the same concept, in different places. Everyone loses their minds. I am so tired of every note being yet another person showing up to condescendingly explain to me that actually, it’s a fruit tart. I know. I don’t care what you call it. You can call it a Burned Sugar Egg Thing. You can call it a Colin Mochrie if you want. People call things different things sometimes. That’s how language works. There’s creme brulee in the google image search. I know. Google put it there. Please. Look at Custard-Head Bad Evil Man. His face is a dessert. In the movie, his face wasn’t a dessert, but in the image, it is. That’s slightly entertaining. It says Flanos above him. That sounds like his name but also like what some people call a dessert. Know peace. Breathe. Please. My crops are dying. The well has run dry. The mine is empty and all the workers have left the town bare and uninhabited. Finally, dejected, I ball up my 3 plaid shirts in a handkerchief, tie it around a crooked stick, and slowly trudge along the train tracks, into the sunset. Time passes with all the slow inexorability of a glacier. The roof of my little shack caves in, and the once-bountiful fields lay fallow and dry. The pavement cracks. In 30 years, people will speed by on the freeway, only sparing a half-glance at the faded facades of empty storefronts, memories themselves bleached away by the unforgiving, unrelenting sun. In time, the buildings themselves crumble. The crows who perch on the rusted sign by the forgotten turnoff caw uncomprehendingly, never reading the faded words spelling out:
smileygirl08
