If my previous ask said fucks instead of ducks I'm really sorry I'm high as balls on edibles and sleep deprivation
worse <3
I'd rather be in outer space šø
Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć

ellievsbear

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Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Not today Justin
Three Goblin Art
Cosmic Funnies

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation

titsay

PR's Tumblrdome
RMH

ā

Kiana Khansmith

oozey mess

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Jules of Nature

Janaina Medeiros
šŖ¼

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@biscuit-dough
If my previous ask said fucks instead of ducks I'm really sorry I'm high as balls on edibles and sleep deprivation
worse <3
Babe we NEED pics of your rubber cuck collection
so actually āwhat i collect is DUCKS
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?
Itās called a buntā¦. Not weed cigarette⦠And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They donāt 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. Iām so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down Iām so mad.
YourĀ āweed smoking girlfriendā 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 twerpā¦. Donāt ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Donāt 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 WARNINGĀ
Well that escalated quicklyā¦ā¦
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they arenāt 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. Iām yelling so loud and now Iām crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I canāt take anymore. Iām 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 āI HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDSā, āTHEY ALL KISS MEā, and āTHEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURRā.
and letās not forget the āBlaizā and her āwicked tatā, or that he doesnāt āwanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever againā, and that this is āthe FINAL FUCKING WARNINGā.
āthe goo pile that is now your bodyā
iām dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, itāll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot⦠*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omgĀ
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. Iām 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 heās 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 Iām still Ā at the bar. You look to the exit, thereās still time. But thereās not, thereās not, thereās 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. Ā I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I havenāt shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and Iām 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, itās like that only instead of boots itās my muscles and instead of walking itās 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 insultedĀ theĀ 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 Iāve ever know.. felt⦠Love. I loved them⦠Blaizā¦. Chas-Chas⦠Funk⦠I loved all three of em⦠but theyā¦*My face is wet with tears and Iām 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?!Ā *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.Ā āPft, you brought this upon yourself dude.ā 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
Happy 420
"Every piece of my armor is carefully selected to maximize combat effectiveness."
"And the assless chaps?"
"Distraction!"
Aspencore
the tone makes this sound like they have a recurring problem with people trying to join after a bad breakup and are just sick of this shit
'People who are getting away from a bad breakup' was a major source of recruits for the French Foreign Legion.
I have worked a lot of remote jobs and you have no idea how common it is for someone who just had or got out of a bad interpersonal relationship to decide that they need to find themselves out in the woods and work on their issues, so then they go and get a job that requires close contact with limited group of people and no one else for months on end. And then when they make their bad decisions, (the rebound boyfriend, the one night stand, the long drawn out cry sesh with a bottle of booze in the middle of the night on a work day) they're still stuck with the same 6 people on a mountaintop for another 7 weeks who are all forced into front row seats to bear witness to the ongoing character development until the guy who is nominally in charge has to make a rule about no fucking in the cook tent, because its the only structure big enough for us all to get out of the rain and while we're all glad that Sarah is taking charge of her own life after her boyfriend cheated on her by fucking literally the only eligible man for 200 miles in every direction, the rest of us would like a hot meal.
I used to live on an air force base in central Australia. One dude broke up with his missus and went to Antarctica, only for them to find his weed grow operation in his house in central Australia and not let him back in the country.
Last I heard he had another weed grow operation in a shipping container in Antarctica.
After the hell of the past two days, this reminded me of what America could and should be about. Itās a little pocket of hope when our administration is trying to extinguish diversity and community and basic human decency and replace them with fear and hate and division.
Reblogs in a chain now get their own notes
The reblog chain is one of the things that makes Tumblr unlike anywhere else. All the notes on reblogs are attributed to the original post, no matter which branch people actually liked or reblogged. We want to keep encouraging conversations, and give contributors the recognition they deserve.Ā
Soon, you'll be able to like, reblog, or reply to any part of a reblog chain, and that note will go to that reblog's author. Each reblog will have its own counts, instead of one aggregated number from every version of the post. And yes, youāll be able to like multiple posts in one chain.
If a reblog doesn't add anything, the love flows up to the last person in the chain who did. Your post doesn't lose notes just because people spread it quietly.
Past notes will stay on the original post ā we're only changing what happens from here on out. Retroactively re-attributing all of them would be... a lot.
This is just the beginning. More changes are coming as we keep building this out ā stay tuned!
I laughed to hard at this fucking thing.
if you are a game designer and you force me to kill wolves AND you have them make sad puppy noises I'm killing you
see this never happens in spider solitaire for windows
Think again
All dead⦠all rotten. Elves and men and orcses. A great battle, long ago. The Dead Marshes⦠yes, that is their name
when i clicked the link about lego partnering with crocs. i had some ideas of what that might look like. but i was not prepared. i was not prepared at all.
As a 19-year-old sophomore at Stanford, Elizabeth Holmes decided to transform diagnostic medicine so she dropped out of college and used her tuition money to start her own company, Theranos. Ten years later, Holmes, pictured here holding a micro-vial, is on the cutting edge of medical technology ā her new blood testing method allows hundreds of tests to be run using only a few drops of blood. And, Holmesā methods are cheaper, faster, more accurate, and less invasive than conventional methods which often require a separate vial of blood for every test. As Holmes told Wired.com earlier this year, āI started this company because I wanted to spend my life changing our health care system. When someone you love gets really sick, most of the time when you find out, itās too late to be able to do something about it. Itās heartbreaking⦠We wanted to make actionable health information accessible to people everywhere at the time it matters most. That means two things: being able to detect conditions in time to do something about them and providing access to information that can empower people to improve their lives.ā
read more fromĀ A Mighty Girl
Reasons you should adore Elizabeth Holmes:
She is featured as Forbesā youngest self-made woman billionaire.
Her tests will revolutionize the public health world as we know it; Making diagnostic testing accessible and affordable for more people (and potentially saving Medicare and Medicaid ~$100 billion each over the next decade).Ā (x)
She is a coauthor on 82 US and 189 foreign patent applications. (x)
Her fear of needles served as a motivator for launching Theranos. (x)
Just like Musk, the āgenius inventorā CEO who dropped out of college and became a billionaire did it through hype supported by media eager to crown the next āgreat personā. Nobody is creating a world changing super technology at 19, and theyāre definitely not doing it by themselves. But the idea of a single person being a genius self-made billionaire is essential to the techbro grift, and Elizabeth Holmes figured out how to join in on the over promise and never deliver venture capital gravy train.
As a side note, a big part of her brand was that she did it after dropping out of Stanford. Not to be too elitist or credentialist, but thereās a strong anti-intellectual bent to the whole thing. The idea that centuries of doctors, biochemists, and engineers couldnāt make the test smaller, but someone who has a year and a half of college could figure it out doesnāt really make sense. It echoes with the idea that ābig pharmaās hiding the cure for cancerā or āone weird trick to cure diabetesā. All you have to do is stop looking into how everyone else does a thing and trust that the person selling the product has secret knowledge they never shared.
just so weāre clear on this
Tango. Uniform. Mike. Bravo. Lima. Romeo.
Kilo.
Uniform.
November
Golf.
Papa
Oscar
Whiskey
Papa
Echo
November
India
Sierra.