Horse loves butt scratches
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@impossibletohandle
Horse loves butt scratches
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There’s one thing I always think of when I hear “how could you let it get so bad?” and similar phrases. It’s in the comments of every video of matted hair or a dirty kitchen.
I think the appropriate response is “what would have to happen to you for you to let it get that bad?” And when you think about that question, and the horrifying answers that come with it, you almost certainly have more sympathy for the person you were being judgemental to.
People who let their self-care needs go unmet for long periods of time are only rarely lazy and even more rarely comfortable and happy with that state.
How badly injured would you have to be to say “fuck it” to washing dishes?
How bad would you mental health have to be to give up on brushing your teeth?
How much grief would you have to be in to stop making yourself meals?
And the answer is probably lower than many of us have ever had the misfortune to realize.
Scalpers: There is a low supply and high demand for PS5s right now. I will buy up a bunch of them at market price just to resell at my new inflated price for personal profit
Average Person: Dude, you’re scum. This should be illegal
Scalpers: There is a low supply and high need for affordable housing right now. I will buy up a bunch of houses at their affordable price just to charge people my new inflated monthly price to live in them, without actually owning them. For personal profit.
Average Person: You may not like it, but this is a valid business practice and a necessary part of adult life. This is our free market at work, and-
I like to fuck around and waste time for at least ~6-10 hours per day, and let me tell you, that really puts some pressure on your schedule. you have no idea how busy I am
Dreams (1990)
people have the audacity to equate vanilla with “plain”. the fruit of a delicate orchid pollinated by hand. worth its weight in solid gold and beyond. the fussy black-and-cream jewel of the american continent. you sick son of a bitch. imagine a world without vanilla. no blondies. no pound cakes. no crème brûlée, no coke floats. no cream soda. no satiny new york-style cheesecakes. no warm apple pie à la mode. no velvety complexity to bring out complex notes in chocolate desserts. no depth of flavour in your cakes and cookies and milkshakes. all in just a few precious seeds or grams of paste or perfumed teaspoons of liquid black platinum. what you don’t understand could fill the library of alexandria seven times over and then some. you ungrateful bastard i’m going to kill you
Absolute unit and tiny unit
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🍁🍂🍁
*walks into bar* *sits in a booth with ppl in it* dont yall love being cis? i love to be cis, its good. (whispering to small lizard under the table: what do cis people drink? milk? you said milk?) yall got milk at this bar?
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Magic path by Olga Shvets
it's easy to boycott many products and services if you don't have money for them in the first place
patting myself on the back for making it through another day of not purchasing a Tesla because of my strong ideological commitments
The other day, I went down the rabbit hole of "cute donkeys" and came up with my head full of things I didn't know about mules (the hybrid offspring of a horse and a donkey), and why they were once so coveted as work animals.
Brace for info dump, while enjoying this lovely photo of a trio of draft mules.
The explanation is hybrid vigour (when hybrid offspring have enhanced traits compared to its parents):
Mules are stronger, hardier, healthier, have better endurance, harder hooves, sturdier skin and can handle extreme weather better than horses or donkeys. They are also more patient, more intelligent, and easier to handle than either of their parent species. Horses may be faster, but that's about the single thing they're better at than a mule of the same size.
So mules, being all around nicer to work with and getting you more work for the same amount of feed, and with less hassle, were preferred for just about every job purpose.
Habby du Magnou, a Poitevin Mulassier mare, and her daughter Lady du Magnou, a rare Poitevin mule
But since horses have 64 chromosomes and donkeys have 62, mules end up with 63 chromosomes, which means they are almost invariably sterile. That's because biology gets very confused when trying to split an uneven number of chromosomes neatly in half to create germ cells. There are a few documented exceptions of fertile mule mares (never stallions), but they are very, very rare. So you have to keep crossbreeding the two parent species to produce them, usually by breeding a donkey sire (jack) to a horse dam (mare). This is because it's easier for a 32 chromosome egg to incorporate a 31 chromosome sperm into a viable zygote (fertilised egg) than vice versa.
Because of this, there was (and still is) in France a breed of absolutely massive draft horses, the Poitevin Mulassier, and a breed of big-ass donkeys (pun intended, but honestly they're arguably the largest donkeys in the world, and shaggy like Highland cattle), the Baudet du Poitou, two breeds whose main purpose was to breed the enormous and super-strong Poitevin mule.
The Poitevin mule
This absolute unit was the must-have work-animal for all kinds of farm and industrial work for centuries, and a significant French export, until mechanisation made these magnificent creatures obsolete.
With no demand for the Poitevin mule , its parent breeds dwindled, almost to the brink of extinction. Determined conservation efforts during the last few decades are slowly bringing their numbers back up, but they're very far from their heyday, when some 20,000 Poitevin mules were born annually.
The Poitevin Mulassier
Both the parent breeds are still endangered, which means most of the current effort is directed into bringing up the numbers of Poitevin horses and Poitou donkeys. This means breeding horses to horses and donkeys to donkeys, with very few breeding opportunities allowed to produce the Poitevin mule. Only about 20 of those are born each year.
The Baudet du Poitou
you can literally feel your brain become fully developed at age 25 btw. i was dumb as shit before then. i still am but in different ways
#there’s a little beep like on a microwave to announce your brain is done and ready to be a subtly different kind of stupid forever