Business name settled on.
Now to do all the rest of the things.

izzy's playlists!
RMH
tumblr dot com
ojovivo
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
sheepfilms

if i look back, i am lost
art blog(derogatory)
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Jules of Nature
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Product Placement
$LAYYYTER

oozey mess
noise dept.

pixel skylines
Monterey Bay Aquarium
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@inked-moonbeams
Business name settled on.
Now to do all the rest of the things.
Hardest part of starting a small business: coming up with a name.
I’m great at gothic names, aol screen names were my specialty, but a cutesy family friendly name? So not up my alley.
It’s like throwing spaghetti at the wall and hoping one will stick.
Ooh… is Wall Spaghetti a weird business name?
reblog for noises
goodnight sweet prince
This is what they stole from you
Ocean Vuong, from “Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong”, Night Sky with Exit Wounds
POV: Your Master's thesis on the quantum mechanics of space cat is due in an hour but it's also nap time.
In honor of Day of the Dead, here’s a repost of my comic about the San Francisco Columbarium and the man who spent 26 years restoring it.
This comic originally appeared on Medium at The Nib. Go check out my other work there.
Emmitt and the Columbarium.
Have another.
If this ends up popular as well I'll be making more.
Jury Duty is so good. It is literally SO good. Everyone involved with the show deserves an Emmy.
It’s like if you took someone and put them in an episode of The Office but made them think they were actually getting hired at Dunder Mifflin.
Totally thought this was about the 1995 Pauly Shore movie by the same name and wondered:
Did we watch the same movie? I mean I love Pauly Shore but Jury Duty certainly wasn’t award winning….
Oh. Oh, it’s a tv show. Whooops.
#Your Friendly Neighbourhood Therapist
“I am finding my way back to myself again. slowly, patiently, intricately. I am finding roads in between my heart and my mind that connect. I am finding melodies that taste good on my soul. I stray and i take detours occasionally, but I am finding my way back to myself again.”
— Unknown (via surqrised)
it’s difficult to be a dom with anarchist leanings.
my sub will be like “i have to tell you something… i broke a rule. i’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit.” and i’m like. rise up comrade you have nothing to lose but your padded restraints. no doms no masters. oh you want me to spank you. yeah i can do that.
Twin Peaks: Pilot (1990) dir. David Lynch
Not queer as in "queer is not a slur" but queer as in "I do not give a fuck if its a slur, you don't get to censor my identity regardless". Queer as in "I HOPE my identity upsets you". Queer as in "my identity is not only a slur but a threat"
queer as in "every word we have used to describe ourselves has been turned around and used against us. so no, i will not surrender another word to those who wish to shame us out of existence."
Natalie Díaz, from "American Arithmetic", Postcolonial Love Poem
here is a fun little star wars scenario that has been pinging around inside my head like a screensaver:
so let’s say there’s some very zealous, very low-ranking fresh young Imperial officer on duty the day they take the Senator from Alderaan into custody.
and he is very very nervous because a) he’s been here for like a week and b) none of that week required him to be in a room with Darth Vader. which he now is. so he is trying to focus very very hard on Doing Everything Exactly According To Protocol, as a means of not focusing on the seven-foot evil wizard standing fifteen feet away.
and part of the protocol for processing new prisoners is to make a new file for them in the prisoner database, and enter all their biographical details and vital statistics and a gene sample and their known associates and the nature of their terrible crimes against the Empire and so on. which he does! very meticulously!
except the computer keeps throwing an error message. the stupid thing keeps beeping at him, this awful grating little noise that makes his shoulders ratchet up tighter and tighter every time it honks at him, and he can’t fix it and Darth Vader is right over there—
except oh god oh fuck the beeping noise must be annoying Darth Vader, too, because he’s coming over here and our poor junior officer is convinced he’s going to die before he even lives long enough to send his first paycheck home to his poor widowed mother —
he stammers out an apology. Vader just stares at him. he swears he’ll figure out the problem right away, sir, it’s probably a bug in the system, it’s just that for some silly reason it keeps saying this gene sample doesn’t match the one on file for the Senator so he can’t get her logged as a new prisoner just yet —
“Dismissed,” says Vader. the poor kid flees, gratefully.
Vader considers the matter. in fact, his underling was correct: the gene sample, which he saw taken through his very own helmet lenses, does not match the official record of Senator Leia Organa, heir to the throne of Alderaan. so: perhaps the sample on record was falsified. not impossible, but very, very difficult. and ordinarily a crime attempted by the lowly and desperate. he cannot see any need for it, in the daughter of a queen.
another possibility presents itself. Alderaan has no history of using royal doubles, as some worlds do. but Bail Organa has worked closely with royal houses where the practice is long-established. perhaps he was inspired. perhaps the girl they captured is not Leia Organa at all.
Vader runs the gene sample against the ship’s database. it is woefully incomplete, of course, containing only a fraction of the Empire’s billions of citizens: the ship’s own complement, a selection of known criminals and Rebels they might encounter, high-ranking officials whose identity must be confirmed should the Emperor require their presence. unlikely that this girl, whoever she is, would have a record here, or even a partial match—
the computer beeps at him. it’s a cheerful beep, this time, not the error message that stymied the junior officer. the computer reports that the gene sample is a partial match for Pooja Naberrie, the Senator from Naboo. they are, with eighty-nine percent probability, first cousins.
and Vader just. kind of stands there. for a minute.
when he goes to Leia’s cell, there’s no interrogation droid with him. he goes in. he shuts the door behind him. he stands there, silent, for frankly a worryingly long time, until Leia has run through her entire stockpile of “how dare you, I’m a member of the Senate on a humanitarian mission” and “whatever you want, you can’t possibly think I would be of any help” and “well, if you’re going to interrogate me, get on with it already” and “are you even listening to me?” and falls silent herself.
Vader has been listening to her. he has also been listening to the Force, which seems to think that she’s not lying. obviously the humanitarian mission part is bullshit, that goes without saying. but the “I’m Senator Leia Organa” parts and the “I won’t help you” parts? yeah. he searched his feelings. he knows them to be true. the Force is singing in his head, bright and clear, in a way it hasn’t for nearly twenty years.
there’s still Tarkin to deal with, though. Vader turns and leaves the cell without a word.
Tarkin wants to blow up Alderaan. this is unacceptable, obviously, and Vader forbids it on the grounds that the Queen and the Viceroy possess vital intelligence, not disclosed to their daughter, that must be acquired. said intelligence being, not that he’s saying this out loud, how the fuck Bail got his hands on his daughter, and who else knows about it.
“the fate of the galaxy rests on it,” is what he does say out loud. from the way the Force harmonizes with his words, that might even be true.
so the Death Star just. parks there. in an incredibly threatening orbit around the planet. they issue a demand that the Organas surrender themselves, or else, but apparently the happy couple just left for a low-tech weekend retreat in the mountains, what awful timing, they’re sending someone to fetch them right away. Vader shuts himself up in his quarters, to seethe and watch the surveillance feed from Leia’s cell. he’s not really paying attention to much else.
and it’s not like a random freighter getting tractored in for being an incredibly obvious smuggling vessel is the kind of thing you’d alert Darth Vader over, anyway.
so he’s still sitting there, one great big thought filling up his whole entire head, watching Leia take a frustration nap, when her cell door opens.
and a trooper comes in.
and the trooper takes off his helmet.
and he says, “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”
this clip from make some noise s1e8 with oscar montoya and brennan lee mulligan is the only super mario bros content i care about personally