what does your url mean??
Titty Mug (mug with tits) owned by Chief of Boat Watson in The Hunt for Red October (my fave movie) = chiefofboatwatsonstittymug
noise dept.
Keni

JBB: An Artblog!
Mike Driver
Xuebing Du
hello vonnie

blake kathryn

No title available
Cosmic Funnies
cherry valley forever

Origami Around

Product Placement
Cosimo Galluzzi
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Andulka
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
No title available
Today's Document
trying on a metaphor
🪼
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@chiefofboatwatsonstittymug
what does your url mean??
Titty Mug (mug with tits) owned by Chief of Boat Watson in The Hunt for Red October (my fave movie) = chiefofboatwatsonstittymug
Hiking south from Mount Robson.
Montana
1977
The baby shrimp LOVE the hair algae section of the tank. It’s like a safe little nursery with lots of surface area for them to forage around in.
And it keeps em safe from big ol’ Bruce
When you see an adolescent saguaro 👍
Trace amounts of Monica in my life
A statistically insignificant level of Monica in my life
My life manufactured in a facility that also processes Monica
scientist whumpee. torture that scientist
HARD AGREE!!!!!
time-sensitive experiments that cannot be paused or stopped to work around scientist's fever
shaky hands trying to use pipettes or scalpels
dropping beakers, shattered glass, caustic chemicals
fuzzy vision while looking through a microscope
inhaling vapors (story time: i used to do prison population COVID testing using waste water samples and usually the samples are just water so we would dispose of them by pouring them in bleach after testing. then i was given a sample from an airplane toilet and told to do the same. however, airplane toilets contain blue juice, which apparently contains ethylene glycol, which apparently makes chlorine gas when you combine it with bleach. so i did what i was instructed to do and poured the sample in bleach in the sink and gassed myself out the room. my boss had to look up what i made because i just stumbled into her office choking and was like "hey something happened")
trust i got yall fr 💯💯💯
"You can say that [orangutans] are not dependent on social support and approval, and if you admire this in them, that an orang is irredeemably his own person, 'the most poetic of the apes', researcher Lynn Miles told me once in an unguarded moments. What she had in mind was the difference between orangs and chimps in the way they carry on their discourse with the world.
Chimps are much admired for their tool use and for their problem-solving relationship with things as they find them...the orang is, let us say, not so replete with enterprise. Give an orangutan the hexagonal peg and the several shapes of hole, and then hide behind the two-way mirror and watch how he engages with the problem.
And watch and watch and watch--because he does not engage with the problem. He uses the peg to scratch his back, has a look-see at his right wrist, makes a half-hearted and soon abandoned attempt to use his fur as a macramé project, stares dreamily out the window if there is one and at nothing in particular if not, and the sun begins to set. (The sun will also set if you are observing a chimp, but the chimp is more amusing, so you are less likely to mark the moment in your notes. An orang observer has plenty of time to be a student of the vanities of sunset.)
You watch, and the orang dreams...when casually and as if thinking of something else, the orang slips the hexagonal peg into the hexagonal hole. And continues staring off dreamily."
Vicki Hearne, "The Case of the Disobedient Orangutans"
Important tags from @sashayed
The first rule of fandom is have fun. The second rule of fandom is find an enabler and become an enabler. Yes you should write that fic. What if it was even hornier? What if it was angstier? What if you wrote it just for me?
high ambient background football levels reminded me to actually finish this Personal Lore That Caused My Books comic
There is a reality not so far from our own in which Ratitouille (2007) was filmed as an avant-garde conceptual horror akin to Eraserhead (1977)
There is a young American man in France. His mother has passed away. He has few friends, and works the thankless job of a bus boy in a prestigious restaurant, but dreams of becoming a chef despite having very little skill.
He returns one night to his humble apartment, which is known to have vermin, and comes across a rat, which he could easily kill or set loose on the street.
But the rat- it is special. It seems to speak to him. Promises him every little thing he desires- talent, fame, and fortune. Recognition and esteem like he has only ever seen from afar; fine company like the wealthy men and women whose scraps he picks at over the sink.
Put me on your head, the rat says. Put me on your head and think of nothing.
It is strange at first, yes. Strange to feel another take control of his life and live it better than he ever could. To see miraculous things created with his own two hands, to feel his feet move in graceful and fantastic ways with a confidence he has never had.
But the rat delivers as he had promised: he receives promotions, notoriety, admiration. He is noticed. Envied. Every day is a waking dream, rubbing elbows with beautiful women and handsome men and influential personalities who lavish him with praise. It is addictive, this lifestyle- never mind that he is only ever truly conscious of it as a passenger of in own brain.
It is when he has reached heights few can ever conceive, with all that the rat had ever promised- a beautiful wife in a beautiful house with all the world in his palm, in possession of all the wealth and success a man could ever want, that the rat says that it is leaving.
Leaving? The rat cannot leave. Everything he is, the rat has provided.
"I have delivered on our bargain", the rat says. "I have brought to you all that you have ever dreamed. What more could you desire? I must live my own life, now."
The man is furious. He is terrified. He destroys the rat, in all of the ways that a rat can be destroyed, until nothing is left of it but a fine smear of marinara sauce.
He returns to the restaurant the next day moving like the shell of something hollowed-out and brittle. He cooks well- his fingers remember the movements, his eyes recognize the patterns, his mouth knows without his asking what orders to speak and what platitudes make patrons smile pleasantly with their straight white teeth.
He retains the talents of the rat. The charm of the rat. All the worldly pleasures the rat had provided him.
Still, it seems, he is little more than a vessel for the talents of the rat.
But the rat is gone.
What remains of the man?
You see my vision
free/pay what you want printable pdf!
i am once again making a silly little zine abt covid safety but this time it is very unserious and not educational at all so if ur new here and dont know what the Heck i am on about. here's a place to start!
id:
slide 1:
a photo of the front cover of a black & white printed zine held up in front of a quilt in the background. top text of the zine cover reads: "reasons I love wearing my mask in public" with bottom text in parentheses: "besides the on-fire garbage can that is public health these days." a cartoon drawing of Maria, a pale genderfluid person with a buzzcut and glasses, is winking and doing a peace sign. she is wearing a boat-style mask with a star mask chain and crayon earrings.
slide 2:
top text: "1: I haven't had a man tell me to smile in 6 years." Below is a drawing of Maria walking down the sidewalk wearing a black mask, a cat cropped t-shirt, patched jeans, & star earrings. They are carrying a Mitski tote bag and look unbothered with their eyes closed as a man who looks a lot like the distracted boyfriend meme holds up a finger as if he was about to speak, but just looks confused as his speech bubble reads "..." Bottom text: "I simply cannot go back."
slide 3:
Top text: "2: I don't have to make facial expressions." Below Maria is waving and wearing a polo shirt, blank face emoji earrings, & an apron that says "JOB" with a name tag attached. Maria stares blankly behind her mask. Bottom text: "autism wins!"
slide 4:
Top text: "3: I can sing to myself on walks without being spotted by traffic." Below is Maria strolling down the sidewalk with cars in the background, wearing a mask, a baseball cap, and a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt. Maria has a speech bubble of floaty text singing "aangel of muuusic" with music notes floating around.
slide 5:
Top text: "4: mask chains!" below is a boat-style mask with a mask chain made of letter beads that spell "yippee." Bottom text: "another layer of accessory-maxxing."
slide 6:
Top text: "5: adds to my aura of being the mysterious and unknowable coworker." Below Maria stands in their job apron with a black mask & mushroom earrings surrounded by question marks. Text around Maria reads "what do they look like??" "we are literally on the clock!!" "wouldn't you like to know weatherboy!!"
slide 7:
Top text: "6: nobody knows I'm eating fruit snacks." Below is Maria with her mask on wearing strawberry earrings looking nonchalant as text points to her saying "maria acting normal." In the bottom left corner we see through the mask like an x-ray showing Maria chewing as she holds a scooby-doo gummy. Text pointing to this drawing reads "the REAL maria."
slide 8:
Back cover of the zine shows Maria shrugging wearing a striped shirt, overalls with a heart patch on the front, and worm earrings. Top text: "of course none of these things are more important than keeping you & your community safe from preventable illnesses but if for some wild reason you don't care about that. this is everything the government doesn't want you to know!!" Below is the instagram logo and Maria's handle: @maria.therese.art
SIGNAL!!! BOOST!!! I don't care if this doesn't fit your blog's aesthetic, reblog EVERY TIME!!!
I know things are scary because they're going to strike us down with their powerful kicks, but here's what YOU (yes, YOU READING THIS RIGHT NOW) can do
1. nothing
2. we're so fucked
WE'WE ALLLG ONNA DIE