Misplaced Lens Cap
blake kathryn
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
⁂
#extradirty
wallacepolsom
Xuebing Du
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
pixel skylines
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Product Placement
will byers stan first human second
Cosmic Funnies
dirt enthusiast
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Today's Document
Game of Thrones Daily
Andulka
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Stranger Things
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@average-book-enjoyer
pinned post?
whats up! my pronouns are she/her and i'm sort of silly sometimes. you could go to my carrd if you'd like to know more i guess..? i love talking to people about their interests so feel free to message me i suppose.
^ matching blinkies with @just-watching-dont-worry @paranormaltheatrekid and @annahanover
more blinkies and my tagging system under the cut
also, its sister tweet:
How could you forget:
Had to add this gem
Pouring one out for Poison Junior.
I think it would be funny to write a murder mystery where not only did every single character involved have an obvious motive to kill this mf, they were actually all attempting to murder him first, but the murder attempts all cancelled each other out all except for one. Two people tried to poison him but the poisons just happen to work as antidotes for each other, and instead of killing him only gave him the shits, and due to having the shits he couldn't go hunting that day like he had planned, foiling the plans of the one who had conditioned his favourite hunting horse to panic and bolt at the cue of a whistle, and the other murder attempt of tampering with his gun so that it would have exploded his whole face off.
The whole mystery isn't about who could have done it or how, but who was the one who got lucky and actually succeeded.
Sherlock Holmes and The Case of Perhaps We'd Best Leave This One Alone, Watson. There Appears To Be An Excess Of Armed Maniacs In The Vicinity.
When I was in high school a friend of mine would host murder mystery dinners once or twice a year. They were the kind you could buy as a kit -- I don't even know if they exist anymore -- and everyone was assigned (or chose) a character, then received a booklet of clues to share. The idea was to spend an evening in a one-shot LARP designed like an Agatha Christie novel.
I was a year above most of them at school so they threw a "goodbye" murder mystery for me just before graduation, and about 2/3 of the way through the game we all realized that everyone had at least attempted to kill the victim. The game then shifted from "whodunnit" to "who succeeded in dunninit" which we all felt was not only super fun but above the usual level of narrative complexity for those games.
After we solved it, we discovered that the game wasn't from a kit -- the host had written it herself and meticulously printed out the booklets in replica style of the kits. It was the best going-away party I think I could possibly have had.
Masculine girl who's pink and wears pink and her room is pink but she's still undeniably masculine and gender non conforming and big and likes having longer hair and kicking ass and cussing and being gentle and kind and not taking shit and making her friends smile and taking up space and being empathic and teasing and being rude and caring and biting and not conforming and having hope and being herself.
Susie Deltarune, you are all I've ever wanted from a female character.
woo i am such a fan of dramatic plants. just prissy fucking plantlife, be it unreasonable or implacable or ostentatious. plants, man
u know what yeah, let’s talk about weird nonsense plants
1. Living Stones
these plants imitate rocks. who does that?
imagine deciding to straight up evolve into rocks as a defense mechanism. i had a whole rant planned but now i’m remembering that i have, in the past, on multiple occasions, daydreamed about being a rock. like that has been a recurring theme in my rich inner fantasy life. i would not forsake the opportunity to evolve into a stone.
2. Hooker’s Lips
ostentatious. flamboyant. vulgar. garish. randy. dare i say whorish? yes. this plant is whorish.
pucker up you hussy
3. Hoya Hearts
overused trope. lacks subtlety and creativity. truly, they just went with the first thought to pop in their head, no brainstorming involved. “ho ho ho i’m just gonna grow into a fucking HEART, that’ll show em!” Needy & basic bitch. looks cute on a desk
4. Lifesaver Plants
manages to be both psychedelic and disapproving. reminiscent of a prudish great aunt–but like, one who did a lot of LSD in the 70s. evidence of an alien lifeform who crash landed and then decided, fuck it, i’m gonna rent a one-story in the midwest and decorate it with vintage wood paneling & floral upholstery. probably smells like stale weed and glass ashtrays
5. Happy Alien Flowers
yes that is their NAME. sort of anticlimactic, but take a gander:
they are absolute sluts for drama, as demonstrated by the little hussies pictured above are YELLING AT ME. they bring to mind seagulls engaged in a Shakespearean blood feud. this flowers have committed aggravated manslaughter and probably got away with it too.
6. Bat Plant
aka Cat’s Whiskers aka Devil Flower. how fucking emo is that??? this plant listens to mcr and is probably the gay cousin. they never got the hang of eyeliner but that doesn’t stop them from trying, bless em. their impetuous devil-may-care persona is hindered by their crippling social anxiety. i’m immensely fond of this plant. they’ll come into their own once they graduate and move away from college, but in the mean time they sit with the tech crew at lunch. you go little Bat Plant!
7. Dancing Plants
total band kids. also called Semaphore Plants, bc they look like they’re trying to flag down a plane. nifty fuckers
in conclusion, three cheers for whiny, namby-pamby, scatterbrained plantlife
so you’ll reblog THIS and my Non-Comprehensive List of Cursed Bird That Piss Me Off, but Whimsical Creatures Failing To Tempt Me Into The Ocean is where tumblr draws the line huh
I am absolutely delighted to show you this orchid the ‘Naked Man’. It’s an orchid native to the Mediterranean and it looks like a lil dude with a tiny penis
PROPORTIONALLY SPEAKING
the foreboding sense of doom? oh yeah i know that one. just double check you have your wallet, keys and some chapstick, works every time
was expecting to reblog this with a tongue-in-cheek reply to the many people saying "this didn't fix me :(" but somehow not a single person in the notes is disagreeing. everyone's just nodding their heads thoughtfully bc yeah that's how you deal with the Foreboding Sense Of Doom, that's good protocol
The armor stays on during sex because it takes like five people to help me take it off and put it back on again and I’d rather not call them at this hour
Your adventuring party actually needs at least 3-5 people so you can help each other put your armor on.
I mean unless you’re wearing chain mail I guess. Because you’re poor and have to do a silly little dance to take your armor off.
Unsexily leaning forward and shaking my chainmail t-shirt off before getting in bed
This is how it’s done
shiittttt old ebeneezer could get it too
will you relax
mh computer tryin to say chimichangas I give uP
he's going through a hair dye phase (sleeping in a berry patch)
feels like some of u aren't properly appreciating the fact that he sleeps in a berry patch. and he rolls over and squishes the berries into his fur. because he's so sleepy and content.
maybe people think he's an ugly dog but just to be clear he is actually a beautiful pig
hey guys is there a nice wizard on tumblr or is it only the evil one
it’s just me
“The employees need a larger salary” “hmmmm large celery”
My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
do they smoke weed?
Yes, actually.
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They don’t look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.
Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Well that escalated quickly……
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omg
Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Happy 420
