The Stonewall Inn
shark vs the universe
Misplaced Lens Cap
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor
PR's Tumblrdome
Not today Justin
cherry valley forever
Andulka
Jules of Nature
ellievsbear
Keni
izzy's playlists!
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Kiana Khansmith
One Nice Bug Per Day
noise dept.
official daine visual archive
occasionally subtle
will byers stan first human second
seen from Brazil
seen from France
seen from Sweden
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from Canada
@jetbootcollection
Yes, Really!
Huge thanks to Noir for working with me to produce an actual real life Monster Researcher Eclair Plushie!!
Follow this link and you can preorder one for yourself! https://noirclothings.com/products/pre-order-noir-series-089-eclair-plushie
Honestly I don't think I could have even imagined something like this when I started drawing this little goofball years ago!
Thank you all so much for your support!
There is something sad about sentencing an old tool to death.
You, small but sure, have dutifully measured voltages for nigh on 23 years. Passed from master to student again and again.
How many repairmen have come before me? How much of you is left that left the factory under this serial number?
I cannot fix you. I don't know how. I can see those who came before me laying down patch wires in paths I cannot trace. I know these chips are important but cannot tell their purpose.
It's all so similar to what I could fix. The green of the PCA is darker and the fuses are stubbier, but the shape is there. It was not all that long ago that I had the parts to fix this screen.
But the parts are gone, revised ten times over. The drawers the parts were kept in emptied and reassigned for newer revisions.
There is no telling if the user that found you broken even comprehends just what you were, the history you had witnessed. Did they weep as I do in the knowledge that they truly do not make them like they used to.
Typing the diagnosis felt like writing the obituary of a fallen soldier. Done in by a fire in the battery that once gave you life. The blast got through a hairline crack in the housing and by shear bad luck missed the EM shield that would have saved the power circuit.
You may as well have been dead before I saw you. I could rebuild you, use your case to house modern parts. But it wouldn't be you, even if the price allowed.
The others laugh at me. Sure it's old, but its just a tool. It wasn't mine.
I can see the data from every visit, every validation run as you were put through you paces to prove you were still accurate. Sometime you passed flawlessly for years on end. Sometimes carelessness had scarred you and you failed. But those who came before me repaired the damage and sent you on your way.
The data went back longer than the computers went. To the era of pen and paper. So many technicians giving their approval, some I know and some I had only heard of in stories. Many are strangers who did exactly what I do now. All that history coming to an end on my workbench.
You, old soldier, are beyond my help. I have a job to do. You are not my only patient.
I finish typing out the laundry list of faults and end my message to the customer. You deserve better but there is nothing I can do.
REPAIR: Replaced with a new █████ ███, SN ████████ for the cost of repair. Old unit will be scrapped.
There was one thing I could do.
A much younger tool of the same model came in with a shattered screen, punched in oh so carelessly. The technology for the LCD had changed but the backlight module had never been revised. And it is that backlight that we never have stocked because it never breaks.
I sifted through the parts drawers and confirmed we had none. I looked through the scrap bins at all the repair benches but found nothing of that model family.
In one last attempt I went to the facility's recycling hub where all scrap is collected. And there on top of the big box of broken tools was you, the old soldier.
For a blessing I had given you a proper burial by reassembling you the best I could. Pulling you apart once more I find the very backlight module I need. A simple two pin ribbon cable slots into an equally simple receptacle and the younger tool is given a new lease on life.
Now your history doesn't have to end. Even if the records stop and your serial number is retired, I know a piece of you is still out there illuminating measurements in the darkness.
IT FUCKIN YURI DAAAAAAAAAAAY
GMORNING GIRLIES IT'S YURI DAY AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There is something sad about sentencing an old tool to death.
You, small but sure, have dutifully measured voltages for nigh on 23 years. Passed from master to student again and again.
How many repairmen have come before me? How much of you is left that left the factory under this serial number?
I cannot fix you. I don't know how. I can see those who came before me laying down patch wires in paths I cannot trace. I know these chips are important but cannot tell their purpose.
It's all so similar to what I could fix. The green of the PCA is darker and the fuses are stubbier, but the shape is there. It was not all that long ago that I had the parts to fix this screen.
But the parts are gone, revised ten times over. The drawers the parts were kept in emptied and reassigned for newer revisions.
There is no telling if the user that found you broken even comprehends just what you were, the history you had witnessed. Did they weep as I do in the knowledge that they truly do not make them like they used to.
Typing the diagnosis felt like writing the obituary of a fallen soldier. Done in by a fire in the battery that once gave you life. The blast got through a hairline crack in the housing and by shear bad luck missed the EM shield that would have saved the power circuit.
You may as well have been dead before I saw you. I could rebuild you, use your case to house modern parts. But it wouldn't be you, even if the price allowed.
The others laugh at me. Sure it's old, but its just a tool. It wasn't mine.
I can see the data from every visit, every validation run as you were put through you paces to prove you were still accurate. Sometime you passed flawlessly for years on end. Sometimes carelessness had scarred you and you failed. But those who came before me repaired the damage and sent you on your way.
The data went back longer than the computers went. To the era of pen and paper. So many technicians giving their approval, some I know and some I had only heard of in stories. Many are strangers who did exactly what I do now. All that history coming to an end on my workbench.
You, old soldier, are beyond my help. I have a job to do. You are not my only patient.
I finish typing out the laundry list of faults and end my message to the customer. You deserve better but there is nothing I can do.
REPAIR: Replaced with a new █████ ███, SN ████████ for the cost of repair. Old unit will be scrapped.
baby dragons whose scales are much more shiny and iridescent in order to hide in their parents' hoards
absolutely excellent top-notch thought here, but now you've got me wondering what's trying to eat them
you misunderstand, this isn't 'I look like the ground so predators walk right past me' camouflage, this is 'I look like the savannah grass so I can pounce on unsuspecting prey' camouflage
they're hiding in the hoards to bite the hands of unsuspecting humans who sneak past mama
Perhaps the shininess also makes them more endearing to adult dragons, increasing the likelihood of adoption if something happens to mama.
maybe dragons collect hoards to camouflage their babies
do you ever think about how even though anden's been transformed back to his original body there's still bushes grown from cuttings of him that may or may not be sentient just. hanging around. you can ride one of them as a mount. can we turn those back into humans as well or
At first i was going to say no because a soul is a soul is a soul. But then i remembered Asahi and Amom are both fragments of the same sundered soul found on the source. They met and spoke with each other in the aetherial sea.
So i guess souls can propagate?
not now kitten. daddy is falling victim to the spiral of existential dread that comes with being the working class
Young love
Chat do i have too much skill issue lol
this marketplace lamp is crazy lol
idk what you are talking about its a perfectly normal lamp with absolutely nothing strange about it
ignore my subpar editing skills. i felt like this was a necessary edition. they are transmasc transfem solidarity
that's it that's the nutshell genai is in
TUMBLR ROLLED BACK THE REBLOG UPDATE!
I havent been sick with a contagious illness in SEVEN YEARS. I'm never giving up wearing a mask. I used to get bronchitis EVERY YEAR like clockwork. But not now! You can have my mask when you pry it out of my cold, dead hands.
I also like not breathing in pollutants and smog and pollen and bird shit, and my asthma and allergies have been better than they ever have before so...
I feel lied to. This is where the bugs bunny NO meme cokes from
Ah lads they fucking rotated him
Me, reading this whole post:
NOW it’s you
Oh yea? Well guess what bro
Best post I've seen all day
this is basically what I think about when I get existential at night, but I didn't think there'd be other people, let alone a study, thinking this lol
This happens when my left ear starts ringing out of nowhere. It means one of my worldlines ended.
Sometimes its obvious, like driving while tired. Ear starts ringing so its time to lock in to not die.
Sometimes its subtle, like falling asleep in a position where its not easy to breath.
But usually it really is just a random ear ringing event and im left wondering how the hell one of me could have died standing in the pasta aisle at the grocery store.
