EXCEPTIONAL POTATO

personal/bullshit/homestuck blog PA, he, hella old (40+), Greg check out photocaptor wherein I am a photographer block the tag homestuck to avoid at least half of my reblogs Pointless trivia: I also speak Russian and program video games. Translucent scalemate by antegalactic, weird color shader by me. background

[exceptionalpotato]

you can pin posts on here now?

[postarcadian]

the thing I love most about how tumblr users use tags is that it’s like what if a social media website had a footnotes system

[interestingmistakes]

Reblogging this manually. Op doesn't want credit for fear of being terminated.

[horsefriend]

[putnamspuppeteer]

For those who don't know: Ikumi Nakamura is the woman who was senior artist on Bayonetta, and designed the titular character along with Hideki Kamiya. Their greatest moment of bonding was over their insistence that Bayonetta keep her glasses on at all times. Nakamura cannot go to horny jail. She is the warden.

[brookietf]

[catgirlforeskin]

Happy pride month to her and her exclusively

[seraphiminn]

she made a comic about the experience on twitter

[catboybiologist]

happy pride

[ikindamaybewanthertositonmyface]

An Update from back in October I'm surprised wasn't added to this post. lol

[estrogenesis-evangelion]

you are 16. you are talking with a gay man in his 50s or 60s, a friend, huge and gentle with a scarf and short fluffy curls of gray hair, who has directed you in two plays staged in your mid-size artsy town. (he has not yet asked you to be in his production of The Laramie Project which will change your life. this conversation will also change your life.)

he is talking about theatre. he is talking about theatre when he was younger. he says, "of course, it was AIDS then." in the pause, you ask him. clumsy and quiet and 16 and "straight," you ask him. what was it like.

he takes a moment in which his face is not like a person's face. "there was a time," he says, "i'm not sure how long, years. when i went to a funeral every weekend." he tells you about two funerals in a day, and choosing between friends when you couldn't make it to both. he does not look at you, he looks at them. his wet grey gaze is so clear that you start to see ghosts. it will be years before you understand why it feels like your grief too. why the ghosts call you family.

[estrogenesis-evangelion]

happy pride, family. i love every single one of you

[estrogenesis-eeveeangelion]

when i wrote this post, i didn't expect very many people to read it. i figured it wasn't the kind of thing people liked to read and reblog, but it was late at night, and i was remembering this person, and i was crying, and i had to write it out. so i did.

to this day no other post gets sent to me so often by friends who have encountered it as a repost on some other site. the idea that more than one hundred thousand people have read these words, and know this story now, and maybe feel as i did, is tremendously humbling and unbearably beautiful to me. even by accident, even just passing on a story that is not my own, i often think that it is the best thing i have ever done.

happy pride, family.

[asksanguinius40k]

I love you all. May Reagan burn.

[just-another-cat-blog]

pride month!!!

[lemonsharks]

Is that a miette?

[jeanjauthor]

Pride for you!  Pride for a thousand years!!

[lost-and-cursed]

you COME OUT to miette? you come out to her as queer? oh! oh! pride for mother! pride for mother for One Thousand Years!!!!

[charl0ttan]

okay ill bite. whats nintendo

[gummybearattacktheworldofdespair]

[alarmist-nonsense]

[0v9]

this is what upstairs neighbors have

[that-house]

[fagcrisis]

i hate the word spicy can we bring back calling things erotic

[maryoliveoil]

rolling up to Wendy's to get an erotic chicken sandwich

[deathinaugural]

[rarecultcinema]

A vampire’s lust knows no boundaries: Yutte Stensgaard as Carmilla/Mircalla Karnstein in Lust for a Vampire (1971)

[snake-eggs]

“There aren’t enough hours in a day.” There are actually. The problem is that we think 40 hour work weeks are an unavoidable fact of life.

The problem is that everyone has to work 8 hours, pretty much no exceptions, and with getting ready time + (unpaid) lunch + commute, “8 hours” is actually anywhere between 9 and 12, every single day, with more work to do when you get home because our society and culture was built around having one member of the household home full time and nothing has changed now that almost everyone works.

No wonder Americans are reliant on DoorDash and fast food, there’s no time or energy to cook. No one wonder mental and physical health are in shambles, many just spent all day sitting in fluorescent lights with little to no stimulation. “Just wake up earlier” “Just meal prep”… these are ok short-term, individual solutions, but the broader, systemic issue is obvious. We aren’t built for this. There’s no work-life balance. Genuinely, I think if our culture could normalize a shorter work week, many individuals’ biggest problems would simply evaporate.

[broken-horn-of-equius]

[389]

Dark Juniper Campbell Tileworks

Art Nouveau flower tile in glossy dark green glaze 6 x 6

[coquette-club]

[potionhero]

@starlit-meadow

[anarchistmemedistro]

The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains. And the smell of rot fills the country.

Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.

There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.

- John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

link to story

[monamoni]

[ralfmaximus]

WET BEAST WEDNESDAY

[laurasinele]

one of my favorite wet beast for this wednesday

[le-jardin-inculte]

#mybal

[nine-hyacinth]

i hate astronomers so much.

[nine-hyacinth]

this is getting ridiculous. the file extension for this cannot be .sex it just cannot be. what the fuck SExtractor. astronomers aren't real.

[nine-hyacinth]

to extract the parameters you run SEX -DP ????????? this cannot be real.