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wallacepolsom
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Mike Driver
⁂
#extradirty
One Nice Bug Per Day
Origami Around
h
Not today Justin
Stranger Things
ojovivo
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Cosmic Funnies
todays bird
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Discoholic 🪩
d e v o n
Janaina Medeiros
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@colorofinsanity
I live also to spite every reactionary right wing power. I gotta outlive them. it's easy to want to give up my mood swings make it hard but I gotta outlive this term and for the future, even if it's hard.
im doing terrible but I gotta live I'm transgender
if you're transgender you gotta live.
so i hear tumblr's dying and this moby dick meme idea has lived in my head for literal years...
I know he can turn it off and on but there’s still something so funny to me about the idea of Hua Cheng, the walking wind chime, getting jump scared by his stealth lord of a husband. Like Xie Lian is just built to sneak up on him. Cause not only does Hua Cheng have a giant blind spot, Xie Lian’s short king status also puts him outta Hua Cheng’s direct eye-line and he’s been a martial artist since he was like 5. He is now 800, and some change. Like, I know he is silent, and I truly wonder how long it takes Hua Cheng to wonder if he should also decorate his Dianxia in bells so he doesn’t scream and embarrass himself because he keeps getting jump-scared by him.
Anyone remember Dumb Ways To Die. Like they really made a 3 minute long music video of cute cartoon characters killing themselves in humorously fucked up ways solely as an elaborate PSA about being safe around trains and then made a fucking series of mobile games based around it and we all just let them. Will kids today ever understand how fucking legendary that was. Will they ever know.
this is so fucking funny
i can't stop thinking about this. this kind of shit is not like milsim plane nerds with their own super-expensive desktop cockpit recreations. that kind of hardware makes sense to exist.
this does not. they're playing world of tanks which is like the "call of duty" of tank games (casual, players only slightly bad-smelling). it also doesn't have support for tank peripherals. no game does. no trainers do afaik. which means that (assuming this isn't just a video editing) all of that shit they are fucking with translates into mouse/keyboard inputs that the game understands. that's weird/hard and perplexing, uh, and considering that "tank peripherals" aren't a thing that exist i can only guess they built them theirselves
which is fucking hilarious because why are they so good. why does the fucking cannon breech have a little dry ice smoke effect when the breech opens like they just shot a shell. what. manual turret traverse crank?? did they build a fucking ready rack!! they're even using the correct phraseology which means one of these mofos read a PDF file
Oh yeah, these guys. Yeah, that's. That's one of their older builds. They've upgraded a bit since then.
To be perfectly clear, this is all still just for the sole purpose of playing a video game.
they've, uh, updated again.
Favorite thing about renaissance faires is that they have fuck all to to with the renaissance. This thang is not about historical anything this is about dressing up like a fairy and watching a joust
#a samurai with a flintlock pistol sitting next to a guy dressed as a caveman drinking a styrofoam cup of dr pepper#and it fucks severely
It's not THE renaissance, it's A renaissance. Of what? Up to you
recent sketch dump
Me, passing a car covered in horny thirst-trap anime girl stickers: while I personally find this to be cringe, given the national push for censorship, I must concede that this is technically Praxis.
something something, protecting annoying people from dangerous policies
To this DAY the best argument I ever had with my father was when we were sitting together on the bus to work discussing unions, where HE said “Unions are expensive scams that produce lower quality work at half the speed, they’re bad for customers and bad for workers” and *I* replied “More money than you or I will ever make in our lives has been spent by CEOs of multibillion dollar industries who want to convince you that that’s true” and he called me a conspiracy theorist and like a fucking ‘everyone clapped’ ass moment an old man across the aisle from us pointed to me and told my old man “the kid’s right”
Sooooooo many of society’s interpersonal issues could be solved by kicking the shit out of a man and calling him good boy 😔
AND ☝️ [!] joining a union
actually in hindsight a shitload of my personal self-damaging habits died off when I started sparring at the gym and got work benefits so damn maybe w’re onto something here boys
NOTICE FOR PSYCHOTIC PEOPLES LIKE ME AND THE NEW TOMODACHI LIFE: Please please pretty pretty please be careful while playing Living the Dream, esp if you’re currently unmedicated!!!
The game treats the Miis like they’re real people and makes zero mention ever that they are not, and only ever refers to them and their POV as if they are real and you are their caretaker! While playing this honestly messed with my head pretty badly at times and made me worry a lot on if I was hurting real people/not doing enough for real people while I was playing!
I cannot imagine how much worse this would be for someone who’s unmedicated, non-dormant, or experiencing breakthrough symptoms! Do please be careful and PLEASE remember to have a way to reality check yourself while playing the game!!!
Also: If you’re not psychotic, please reblog this anyway!!! It may not seem like a big deal to you but these kinds of things are REALLY important to know for us psychotic folk in a world that is both hostile and negligent to us and our needs!!!
i think 'I trust you with my life but not your own' as a trope is one of the ones that can always fuck me up no matter what
"I trust you with my life because you are good and kind and noble--I know you will not hesitate to do everything in your power to save me.
I do not trust you with your own life because you are good and kind and noble--I know you would not hesitate to sacrifice yourself to save me."
THAT is where it's at!!!!!
this sounds like a party to me
I don't know which of you needs to hear this but "narc" is not short for "narcissist" when someone calls you a "narc" for snitching they are calling you a "narcotics officer"
technically narc isnt even short for narcotics officer its just cant for Cop, I believe Roma in origin
I read years ago in a book that it was derived from nakk, Romani for nose, as in someone who always has their nose in other people's business
ITS DERIVED FROM "NARCO" AS IN "NARCOTICS" WHAT FUCKING BOOK
Okay you know what pulling back on my derision because i can see how this mistake would be made but narc and nark are etymologically unrelated
Etymology is always doing some shit like this
Convergent evolution.
Linguistic crab
Two entire linguistic traditions have merged to remind you not to be a fuckin narc
>Be me
>At work
>Pooping on company time #hellyeah
>Scrolling tumblr
>#FurryMpregPorn #hellyeah
>Drop phone
>It lands on the ground in between my stall and the stall next to me
>Face up
>The last post I was looking at is on it
>(#FurryMpregPorn) (#ohno)
>The stall next to me
>Is occupied
>(#FurryMpregPorn) (#fullknot)
>Immediately scramble to pick up and/or destroy phone
>In my haste I knock it closer to the other occupant
>No longer able to reach it
>(#FurryMpregPorn) (#faceup)
>Silence and stillness for 8,000 years
>The other occupant wordlessly kicks my phone back over to me
>(#FurryMpregPorn) (#myscreentimeoutis10minutes)
>I stay in the bathroom for an additional 20 minutes to make sure the other person never sees my face or other identifiable features
>Write this post
>I'm still in here
There is a species of butterfly that lives in the mountains.
When it hatches as a caterpillar, it lowers itself to the ground on a strand of silk, and then produces a chemical that smells like the larvae of ants. An ant eventually discovers it, lured by the scent, and brings it back to the anthill, where it is cared for by the colony until it pupates. After a few weeks, the adult butterfly crawls back up through the anthill, through the dirt and the winding tunnels, and out into the sunlight before it can finally open its wings.
Some say that the caterpillar “tricks” the ants into doing this. I don’t know if I agree – I think it’s too small a thing to accuse of guile, don’t you?
With this in mind: Once upon a time, there were seven dwarves.
They lived and worked in the mountains, mining for gold and jewels and precious things. And one night, after a long day’s labour, they heard a knocking at the great stone doors of their mountain.
Outside, shivering and small, they found a human child.
I’m sure you can guess most of what she told them. Stepmothers were involved – it’s not important. What’s important was that each of the dwarves felt a dire and pressing need to care for the child, and they took her into their home, fed her, clothed her, and gave her a warm bed to sleep in. And many seasons passed around that mountain, with the dwarves raising the child as one of their own, until one autumn’s day.
The girl laid, slender and still, in a coffin of spun glass. And some weeks later, one of the dwarves had the idea to call for a prince. This was of course the sensible thing to do, and the prince of a nearby kingdom who listened to the story thought an ensorcelled girl would be a grand thing to rescue.
Poor devils. It feels cruel to judge them. But there were so many questions they could’ve asked – what was this stepmother’s name? Was she real? Did she exist? Who had made the glass coffin? Surely one of them must’ve thought of the question. And why did it grow more opaque with every passing day?
Were they wrong to trust?
I guess it doesn’t matter now.
The moment the prince stepped into the subterranean chamber with the glass coffin, it shivered with a twinkling, plinking noise. Threads of glass exploded into glittering, razor-edged confetti.
A claw split the great glass cocoon.
The thing that spilled out of it, hulking and huge, knew in the fog of its mind, in a base animal sense that screamed, that it was in a room too small for it to fit. It wanted up. It wanted out.
In front of it was some twiggy little thing holding a sword.
It took its first breath.
The flames were the colour of cornflowers.
The dwarves fled. The thing followed close behind, up, up, up through the stone and the winding tunnels, not to chase, not to hunt, but to get up, to get out, out, out–
It struck the great stone doors at a run. They crumbled like gingerbread. And then there was sunlight, and the open sky…
And it could finally open its wings.
Convergent evolution is a hell of a thing.
The dragon, of course, lived happily ever after with its loot of gold and jewels from a hastily abandoned dwarf mine. Being much bigger than a caterpillar, we could accuse it of tricking the dwarves who were kind to it, had taken it in, had fed and clothed and warmed it.
It probably wouldn't mind.
