big day over here.
fuck you
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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Monterey Bay Aquarium

Love Begins

Origami Around
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Product Placement
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
we're not kids anymore.

ellievsbear
d e v o n
occasionally subtle

tannertan36
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com
RMH
AnasAbdin
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
DEAR READER

#extradirty
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@icantthinkofaussername
big day over here.
fuck you
Some of y’all will be like “smh can’t believe boomers just believe everything they read on facebook” and then believe everything they read on tumblr and Twitter
We used to have to take pictures with like. a camera. and then connect it to a computer with a usb to transfer them. to upload to photobucket . im literally shaking
nobody tell op about having to take literal rolls of film to walmart and then wait 2 weeks to find out whether your finger was in the way
What he says: im fine
What he means: in Toy Story 2 Woody is treated as the rarest of the toys from Woody’s Roundup when he’s the main character of the show. That would mean he would have had a higher production number than any of his costars, and in fact probably would have been made for the longest and earliest of the toy line. Stinky Pete, by being the fan unfavorite, must have had a smaller run, and less of his toys would have survived in the 50s as kids would have needlessly damaged or destroyed him making him the rarest of the group and Woody the most common. If anything, the plot of Toy Story 2 should have revolved around Al stealing Woody’s hat as it would have been the item most sought after by collectors as it’s easily lost and not attached to an otherwise common doll. Fundamentally, Al’s apartment should have been littered with Woody dolls in various states of damage, all missing hats and maybe a handful of decent condition Woody dolls needing a hat while Stinky Pete is the rarest and most expensive as a collectors item.
@everyone saying Woody was a limited run or some shit like….. y’all telling me the character that got onto the cover of time magazine and had all this fucking merch didn’t saturate the market with Woody dolls? In the 50s at the height of capitalism and the baby boom???
real life be like:
Your error is in assuming that Woody is rare because few Woody dolls were made. Not the case: Many Woody dolls were made- and because of their popularity they were sold and played-with until they were wrecked and - this being the 50s - thrown out. That plastic Woody you’ve got there will outlast most civilizations: but our Woody? With his cloth body and its aging 1950s fabric? By the 80s most of those would be a wreck: cloth-body stuffed toys have a very short shelf-life once they’re out in the world. Store a Woody in the attic for ten years and the mice get him, or the mold, or the simple weight of time loosens the bindings and makes his limbs unravel. And the voice box? With an in-tact, still functional draw strings? Do oyou know how often those things jam? Woody is unique because he seems to have belonged to a family that takes unusually good care of their toys, going so far as to fix them. Toy from the 50s are not in any way shape or form equivalent to modern full-plastic toys or even BEanie Babies, which were sold primarily with a view to the long-term collectors market. There is absolutely nothing weird or strange in a Woody doll surviving in such good quality to 1999 being notable: his popularity and high production rate has zero impact on the toy’s long-term survivability. (Indeed, that high production rate could have even introduced a lot more manufacturing defects into shipped Woody dolls, creating an overall decline in quality.) Just because it saturated the market is no indication of longevity. Yes, Al sure has a lot of Woody stuff - and most of that is very rare. For a good comparison point hop over to ebay and start looking for vintage, no-package Howdy Doody dolls from the 1950s - not the 70s re-releases with 70s materials but the 50s ones. Start judging the quality: the faded fabrics, the dirt, the smudges, the dinginess, and you’ll begin to see why Al freaked out so much: he didn’t just just find a Woody with a hat, he found a Woody who was clean - with no chipping on the hand-painted face, whose hand-stitched hat hadn’t lost its stitching, whose arm break could be repaired by a master who knew what they were doing. A hundred thousand Woodys might have been made in the 50s - but the number that survived to the present day, out-of-box, out of the hands of collectors, in good enough shape to be polished-up into museum-quality condition?I Al found the treasure of a lifetime.
[Fun fact: according to the wiki, Woody’s full name is Woody Pride.]
THESIS: the real reason that people stay on this hellsite is not “chronological order” or “the drama” or whatever (per se), but is instead linked to how tumblr, unlike most social media, is not optimised to give content as short of a half-life as possible, but instead is optimised to let content continue to cycle for months, years, even decades. this has in turn led to a more consistent centralised site “culture” in which there is more coherent linkage among different areas of the site, thus also explaining why its content permeates so thoroughly throughout the internet.
I think a couple other things also really help:
Everyone on tumblr has the option to remain anonymous. At no point when creating a blog does tumblr ask for personal information (other users might, but that’s different)
The tag system is perfectly designed for op’s point. Making it so that all the tags you add to a post disappear when someone reblogs it from you is crucial. On twitter, I always feel as though I have to have something important to say if I respond to a tweet. On tumblr I can put whatever the fuck I want in the tags and like maybe 3 people will see it before it is lost forever.
There’s no verification, no ad revenue, no pressure by the platform to keep creating. This really takes the stress of social media away from this platform and makes it so that communities can organically form. Similarly, corporations have NO platform on tumblr cause there aren’t reliable ways to advertise on this site.
Follower count is not public information unless it’s voluntarily shared. So ‘popular’ users feel more like down to earth fellow human beings who happen to have good content who actually engages with their audience instead of a celebrity who’s unreachable.
Also we don’t use the verify symbol
Yup.
read for social media analysis, reblogged for castiels-pussy
sorry if i’m being a party pooper but because rabies is apparently the new joke on here ??? please remember that rabies has an almost 100% fatality rate after symptoms develop so if you’re bitten or scratched by an animal that you aren’t 100% sure is vaccinated then GO TO A DOCTOR. it’s not a joke. really.
You’re being kind when you say “almost 100% fatality”. What people need to hear is: if you get to develop rabies symptoms, you’re dead. If you get heavy treatment after developping symptoms, you still need a miracle. Like, a real miracle, you should enter some religion if you escape that.
ALSO, I don’t want people feeling confident about petting stray/wild animals because there’s a vaccine available, either. I’ll explain why from my own experience (I’m not a doctor).
I got bitten by a wild tamarin once, on the pulp of my index finger. It drew blood, there are many wild animals in the area (tamarins, possums, bats, foxes) and it isn’t that uncommon to hear about 1 or 2 rabies cases every now and again (a puppy we gave to a friend got it, for instance), so I went to an ambulatory immediately.
Because I was bitten in an ultrasensitive area, I needed fast treatment. But it was also a small area, so the usual thing they do - inject the vaccine in the place - wasn’t a choice. They told me they’d divide the shot in 5 small ones, and inject me all over my body, so the antidote would get to my entire system fast.
Please stop for a moment and think that the disease is so worrysome that they’d rather needle me all over than to give me one shot and wait until it spread through my system.
Then they said that, okay, but there was a catch first. I needed to take an antiallergic shot. “Why?” “Because the virus is devastating, and as the vaccine is made from it, but weakened (like almost every vaccine) it will still create a reaction, and it’s a strong one, and it’s veru common for people to have strong allergic reactions to it.” YOU HAVE TO TAKE AN ANTIALLERGIC SHOT IN ORDER TO TAKE THE VACCINE COZ THE VACCINE COULD POTENTIALLY MAKE YOU REALLY SICK
ALSO IT WASN’T JUST “A LITTLE ANTIALLERGIC SHOT”
IT WAS ONE OF THESE FUCKERS HERE.
It was OBVIOUSLY dripped in my body and not injected because HAHAHAHA. Truth be told I was an adult already and I’m tall so I have a lot of mass but STILL.
So after I had taken the antiallegic and was starting to feel drowsy (as a side effect of it) the doctor came with the 5 shots.
- One in each buttock
- One in each thigh
- One in my left arm
They all stung like a bitch and I usually don’t care about shots.
“Okay so can I go home now?”
“No, we have to keep you under observation for 2h so we’re SURE the vaccine won’t give you any reaction.”
BINCH I WAS GIVEN A BUTTLOAD OF MEDICINE BUT THERE WAS STILL A RISK.
I slept through the two hours and then was liberated to go home. My legs, butt, and left arm hurt all over, like I had been punched there, for a few days. I also had a fever (not feverish, a fever)
BUT DID YOU THINK IT WAS OVER?
WRONG!!!
I had to take four reinforcement shots in the next month, one a week, so I could be positively be considered immunized. Every time I took a shot, my arm would swell and hurt like it’d been hit, and when night came I’d have a fever. Because that’s how fucking strong the vaccine is, BECAUSE THAT’S HOW VICIOUS THE VIRUS IS.
So yeah. DO NOT PUT YOURSELF IN RISK, GODDAMNIT. Rabies is a rare condition all over, THANK GOD, and 1 confirmed case can be already considered a surge and a reason for mass campaigning, AND FOR A REASON.
If you like messing with stray/wild animals, don’t go picking them up and be extra careful. Or just, like, DON’T - call a vet or an authority that can handle them safely.
I must add that I live in a country with universal healthcare, so I didn’t pay a single penny for my treatment. Is this your reality? If not, ONE MORE REASON TO NOT FUCKING PLAY WITH THIS SHIT.
Rabies is 100% lethal. Period. If you are scratched or bitten by an animal you’re not positive is vaccinated, you need to find treatment NOW. And probably go through all that shit I’ve been through (also if you are immunosupressed? I DON’T KNOW WHAT’D HAPPEN)
Stay safe and don’t be stupid ffs
Guys, I know this isn’t art nor anything like that, but I’ve been hearing about this rabies thing and ???? Look I trust none of you would risk yourselves like this, but maybe you can educate someone through my experience and stuff.
Also rabies does not necessarily cause frothing-at-the-mouth aggression in animals. Docility is also a very common symptom so any wild animal that is ‘friendly’ or ‘likes to be pet’ is suspect. Literally any wild animal is a vector.
Finally, you don’t need to be bitten. All you need is to come into contact with an infected animal’s bodily fluids through a cut that maybe you didn’t notice when you were handling it when it drooled on you.
Never touch a wild animal.
Infection with the rabies virus progresses through three distinct stages.
Prodromal: Stage One. Marked by altered behavioral patterns. “Docility” and “likes to be pet” are very common in the prodromal stage. Usually lasts 1-3 days. An animal in this stage carries virus bodies in its saliva and is infectious.
Excitative: Stage Two. Also called “furious” rabies. This is what everyone thinks rabies is–hyperreacting to stimuli and biting everything. Excessive salivation occurs. Animals in this stage also exhibit hydrophobia or the fear of water; they cannot drink (swallowing causes painful spasms of the throat muscles), and will panic if shown water. Usually lasts 3-4 days before rapidly progressing into the next stage.
Paralytic: Stage Three. Also called “dumb” rabies. As the infection runs its course, the virus starts degrading the nervous system. Limbs begin to fail; animals in this stage will often limp or drag their haunches behind them. If the animal has survived all this way, death will usually come through respiratory arrest: Their diaphragm becomes paralyzed and they stop breathing.
And to add onto the above, saliva isn’t the only infectious fluid. Brain matter is, too. If, somehow, you find yourself in possession of a firearm and faced with a rabid animal, do not go for a head shot. If you do, you will aerosolize the brain matter and effectively create a cloud of infectious material. Breathe it in, and you’ll give yourself an infection.
When I worked in wildlife rehabilitation, I actually did see a rabid animal in person, and it remains one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, because I was literally looking death in the eyes.
A pair of well-intentioned women brought us a raccoon that they thought had been hit by a car. They had found it on the side of the road, dragging its hind legs. They managed–somehow–to get it into a cat carrier and brought it to us.
As they brought it in, I remember how eerily silent it was. Normal raccoons chatter almost constantly. They fidget. They bump around. They purr and mumble and make little grabby-hands at everything. Even when they’re in pain, and especially when they’re stressed. But this one wasn’t moving around inside the carrier, and it wasn’t making a sound.
The clinic director also noticed this, and he asked in a calm but urgent voice for the women to hand the carrier to him. He took it to the exam room and set it on the table while they filled out some forms in the next room. I took a step towards the carrier, to look at our new patient, and without turning around, he told me, “Go to the other side of the room, and stay there.”
He took a small penlight out of the drawer and shone it briefly into the carrier, then sighed. “Bear, if you want to come look at this, you can put on a mask,” he said. “It’s really pretty neat, but I know you’re not vaccinated and I don’t want to take any chances.”
And at that point, I knew exactly what we were dealing with, and I knew that this would be the closest I had ever been to certain death. So I grabbed a respirator from the table and put it on, and held my breath for good measure as I approached the table. The clinic director pointed where I should stand, well back from the carrier door. He shone the light inside again, and I saw two brilliant flashes of emerald green–the most vivid, unnatural eyeshine I had ever seen.
“I don’t know why it does it,” the director murmured, “but it turns their eyes green.”
“What does?” one of the women asked, with uncanny, unintentionally dramatic timing, as she poked her head around the corner.
“Rabies,” the director said. “The raccoon is rabid. Did it bite either of you, or even lick you?” They told us no, said they had even used leather garden gloves when they herded it into the carrier. He told them to throw away the gloves as soon as possible, and steam-clean the upholstery in their car. They asked how they should clean the cat carrier; they wanted it back and couldn’t be convinced otherwise, so he told them to soak it in just barely diluted bleach.
But before we could give them the carrier back, we had to remove the raccoon. The rabid raccoon.
The clinic director readied a syringe with tranquilizers and attached it to the end of a short pole. I don’t remember how it was rigged exactly–whether he had a way to push down the plunger or if the needle would inject with pressure–but all he would have to do was stick the animal to inject it. And so, after sending me and the women back to the other side of the room, he made his fist jab.
He missed the raccoon.
The sound that that animal made on being brushed by the pole can only be described as a roar. It was throaty and ragged and ungodly loud. It was not a sound that a raccoon should ever make. I’m convinced it was a sound that a raccoon physically could not make.
It thrashed inside the carrier, sending it tipping from side to side. Its claws clattered against the walls. It bellowed that throaty, rasping sound again. It was absolutely frenzied, and I was genuinely scared that it would break loose from inside those plastic walls.
Somehow, the clinic director kept his calm, and as the raccoon jolted around inside the cat carrier, he moved in with the syringe again, and this time, he hit it. He emptied the syringe into its body and withdrew the pole.
And then we waited.
We waited for those awful screams, that horrible thrashing, to die down. As we did, the director loaded up another syringe with even more tranquilizer, and as the raccoon dropped off into unconsciousness, he stuck it a second time with the heavier dose. Even then, it growled at him and flailed a paw against the wall.
More waiting, this time to make sure the animal was truly down for the count.
Then, while wearing welder’s gloves, the director opened the door of the carrier and removed the raccoon. She was limp, bedraggled, and utterly emaciated, but she was still alive. We bagged up the cat carrier and gave it to the women again, advising them that now was a good time to leave. They heeded our warning.
I asked if I could come closer to see, and the clinic director pointed where I could stand. I pushed the mask up against my face and tried to breathe as little as possible.
He and his co-director–who I think he was grooming to be his successor, but the clinic actually went under later that year–examined the raccoon together. Donning a pair of nitrile gloves, he reached down and pulled up a handful, a literal fistful, of the raccoon’s skin and released it. It stayed pulled up.
Severe dehydration causes a phenomenon called “skin tenting”. The skin loses its elasticity somewhat, and will be slow to return to its “normal” shape when manipulated. The clinic director estimated that it had been at least four or five days since the raccoon had had anything to eat or drink.
She was already on death’s doorstep, but her rabies infection had driven her exhausted body to scream and lunge and bite.
Because, the scariest thing about rabies (if you ask me) is the way that it alters the behavior of those it infects to increase chances of spreading.
The prodromal stage? Nocturnal animals become diurnal–allowing them to potentially infect most hosts than if they remained nocturnal.
The excitative stage? The infected animal bites at the slightest provocation. Swallowing causes painful spasms, so they drool, coating their bodies in infectious matter. A drink could wash away the virus-charged saliva from their mouth and bodies, so the virus drives them to panic at the sight of water.
(The paralytic stage? By that point, the animal has probably spread its infection to new hosts, so the virus has no need for it any longer.)
Rabies is deadly. Rabies is dangerous. In all of recorded history, one person survived an infection after she became symptomatic, and so far we haven’t been able to replicate that success. The Milwaukee Protocol hasn’t saved anyone else. Just one person. And even then, she still had to struggle to gain back control of her body after all that nerve damage.
Please, please, take rabies seriously.
This has been a warning from your old pal Bear.
I knew how bad it was, but I had never read anything like the raccoon story.
I am not exaggerating when I say that is literally terrifying.
Y'all please read this. That is absolutely hideous. That’s literally like something from a horror movie.
Do not fuck around with wildlife. Or weird strays.
The 25 Days of Shit Slytherins Say: #11
Don’t annoy me this week because if you do, I’ll tell all of the first years you’re Santa’s secret elf & they’ll follow you around to tell you what they want for Christmas all December.
Some asshole: “Publicly funded postal services are obsolete. Private couriers can do everything the post office can do more cheaply and efficiently.”
UPS: *chucks a $300 piece of computer hardware from a moving vehicle to land in the middle of my driveway as I watch from my living room window, then takes off without ever coming to a complete stop; five minutes later, an email arrives in my inbox informing me that my parcel has been left at the door because the courier couldn’t find the requested no-contact dropoff location*
I want to emphasise that this is not a hypothetical scenario. It happened twenty-five minutes ago.
So I have my dog trained to sit when she wants pet (she used to be very wild and jumpy when we first got her, it’s been a long road) so now when she wants attention she just sits very still and stares VERY intently at you (she’s extremely non verbal and hardly makes sound in general)
So, today I let her out and didn’t realize the fence gate was wide open, and she just shoots right out at this older man and a small girl (bc she just LOVES PEOPLE. A lot) The girl kinda shrieks and the man pulls her behind him (which I get it, my dogs small but she’s still part Pitt, and she was running full throttle at them) and all of a sudden my dog just pulls up completely, full stop, and plants her ass on the ground in front of them, staring and wagging her tail.
And they just stand there, staring at each other. She’s like, vibrating with energy, waiting for pets, and these people are like “wtf” so I run up and explain and the old guy was just so thrilled honestly. The little girl starts petting her and the old dude was gushing about how trained and well behaved she is (I mean, ignoring the fact that she shot out of the gate LMAO) but like, that just made me so happy. I’ve put so much time and effort into training her and making her feel safe and comfortable after he (horrifying) past and I’m just so so proud of her.
TLDR; my dog is a good gorl and I luv her
This is the good girl in question
But we made them c o c o a …
dark hogwarts houses → slytherin
❝ Or perhaps in Slytherin, You’ll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means, To achieve their ends.
→ we’ve been expecting you…
i genuinely can’t think about millie bobby brown it depresses me so much that nobody seems to be looking out for this child. she’s been forced to grow up far too quickly (you can argue all you want that young girls are free to dress how they please and wear makeup if they want, but it’s ignorant to act like she hasn’t been pressured to grow up and look older than she is at a young age), overworks herself to the point of exhaustion (millie literally passing out in finn’s arms during scenes because they’re so much for her isn’t great acting, ti’s genuinely upsetting and concerning) and expected to provide for her entire family and carry a whole show and absolutely nobody seems to be looking out for her as much as they should. it doesn’t matter how talented or famous she is, she’s still a child and it’s horrifying that so many adults that are supposed to be in her corner have repeatedly let her down. she’s a child. she deserves to look and act like one.
in what world is this supposed to be something we praise? how is it not genuine cause for concern that A CHILD is overworking herself this much? why aren’t the adults who are supposed to be looking after her stepping in?
The Addams Family renting out rooms in their huge mansion cheaply to broke college students.
The students digging it because the craziness and the bugs are pretty much the same as any other dorm house. Also, Morticia and Gomez treat them all like visiting cousins, not like tenants to abuse and exploit.
One of the tenants is a creative writing major and Gomez and Morticia house them up in the tower because of the quiet and the inspiring view
They’re supposed to be working on a typical coming-of-age story but after living with the Addams for just a week the project is becoming a horror-Gothic-romance
They go to their room after classes one day and find Thing correcting the grammar errors in the manuscript with a red pen
and yeah, the students pay roughly market value for their rooms, but that doesn’t stop gomez from shouting “capital idea!” and handing them wads of cash when they tell him about their weekend plans or what they’re researching, so they basically end up living there for free
In the same vein, half the them have to turn into exceptional fencers, because Gomez just doesn’t give a shit, and if he sees you in the library, its fucking Sword Fighting Time.
Fester and Pugsley find out one of the college students is trying to get into chemistry and woo boy, there has never been a faster study of how to counter various acidic chemical reactions due to “water” balloons in campus history.
Morticia and Grammy are keeping the horticulturalists on their toes with their Black Tulip/Rose hybrids, which can flick their barbs a foot away from their stem system. But it’s fine, one of the kids has managed to breed Aloe with the anti venom.
Lurch makes sandwiches for everyone who’s too much of a coward for Grammy’s cooking. Any music major will find him looming over them, utterly stone faced as they practise until they finish, when he’ll smile, and slowly applaud.
And the spookiest thing of all
Wednesday and Thing will find your thesis. They will critique it in every way imaginable.
There is no escape.
I especially love the idea of Gomez spotting a student in the library, throwing a sword at a startled student, shouting, “En garde!” and lunging at him/her with a sword of his own.
Student (later in life), when asked how she jumps from quietly doing research to handling a sudden influx of ER cases so quickly and easily, says, “When you have to snap out of deep concentration on biochem to fight for your life then get back to biochem without losing your train of thought…you learn or you die.”
This has made me laugh so hard-
Does anyone else feel, like, a weird inhibition against starting new TV shows? Like, there are shows I want to watch but when I think about sitting down to start it something in me goes “no you can’t just do that.” What am i waiting for? I feel like I need to prepare? Brain: You have to wait. Me: Wait for what??? Brain: WAIT
the whole “companies searching their own names on twitter” thing is funny tbh