Nonsence Personal Blog

[gertritude-art]

going slightly insane trying to draw something so i drew grace in a hostage situation to calm down

[parkchanwoohoo]

Realizing that I am not employing enough of my free will to become a nuisance at work

[raine-of-auroria]

Me watching this:

[cowboybarbaryn]

I’m not letting this rot in the tags

[glumby]

how do you compete with an angel? become one yourself

[aphony-cree]

What if Buffy's mom hadn't found out about slaying at the end of season 2 and Buffy had to convince Spike to stay in town and pretend to be in a band with her because that was the cover story they'd told Joyce

[fluffyspuffy]

And then eventually end up accidentally actually starting a band because it’s easier than maintaining the lie

[aphony-cree]

Joyce says they can use the garage to rehearse and she always makes them snacks. Buffy starts to worry she'll never get Spike to leave

[fluffyspuffy]

Buffy insists on calling the band Slayer and Spike keeps failing to convince her that there’s already a band with that name

[disco-tea]

Low key I feel like Buffy would just see it as a cover and it’s a ‘fake band’ but Spike gets like way into it and it’s a Real Band™️ to him and he’s a little annoyed Buffy doesn’t take it as seriously. He’s always like “you missed practice this Tuesday what the hell’s up with that. We have a gig next week btw”

[saunteringvaguelydownwards]

#he starts trailing after her on patrol to bitch about missing practice or how she's sloppy on her chords #starts pitching in on the slayage because vampires keep interrupting his tirades #''EXCUSE ME we are having a ROW'' *stakes fledgling* #no chip necessary spike is literally the guy in the band with zero chill about the band #he undeads the band. he unbreathes the band. he spends all his time not sleeping... on the band. #(willow is their manager xander is the merch guy) #(giles was secretly plotting to lure spike into a trap until he notices spike is... actually better at corralling buffy on patrol than he is #because spike doesn't want her injuring her hands or doing anything that fucks with her breath control) #(giles is also weak to the nostalgia of it all and tunes their instruments when he thinks they're not looking) #(when faith arrives mid-S3 she's quickly recruited to sing backup) (via @entirelytookeen)

[muffinlance]

@worldsokayestdragon :

#spike after learning Oz plays guitar: why İsn't he in the band? #buffy: he's already in his own band. which is actually a real band unlike our fake band that you keep forgetting is just a cover story #spike: we're never going to make it in the music industry if you don't stop calling our band fake

Spike (with reluctant but knowledgeable backup from Giles) finally convinces her that "Slayer" risks bringing copyright lawyers down upon their heads, a fate worse than vampires

Buffy turns around and re-names their band "Fake"

[esmeralda-anistasia]

#Buffy at their next concert: hi this is my Fake band and you're at my Fake concert#Fake band fans go NUTS when the Fake lead singer pulls her signature move: peacing out mid-song to go beat up some guys out back#Meanwhile: extended guitar and drum solos#the fans eat. that. gimmick. up.#Buffy returning covered in blood an hour later: oh god you're still going. Okay Fake second song here we go#and the crowd goes WILD

[ohtoeye]

[pikminenjoy3r]

felt like doodling these three

[the-sacred-now]

I feel like a lot of people engaging in torture are not treating their victims as if they could have blood borne pathogens 🤔

[the-sacred-now]

Is what my wife said apropo of nothing as we were silently drifting off to sleep

[the-sacred-now]

Uh oh

Is what she said when I immediately reached for my phone and opened Tumblr instead of responding

[the-sacred-now]

@everything-you-feel-is-real I know by tumblr tradition that I'm to say "impossible, my posts never blow up like that," or "please don't do this to me."

But I feel in my bones that you are right. If this is to be my wife's moment of glory, I am willing to suffer notification overload, that the world may know she is funny. #MyFunnyWife

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

ultimately i just want to be an object that attract crows

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

"is this why you keep stealing people's gold fillings while they're asleep" no that's unrelated

[howtobangyourmonster]

Back when I was in forensic anthropology undergrad, one of my favorite units we did was on teeth. We received a mint tin full of teeth, and we had a plastic tray we taped a grid onto with a space for each tooth position, and then we had to use the wear patterns on the teeth and other factors to determine what position each tooth had held when it was in a person. I’ve always thought teeth were cool, when I was a kid and one of my silver-capped baby teeth fell out, I wore it around my neck as a pendant until I lost it somewhere, so I loved this unit.

At the time, I was also working at a pawn shop, and people would sometimes sell us teeth that had gold fillings, and one of the employees would remove the gold and then we were to dispose of the teeth, but I collected them in my own little tin at work to practice with(ethically-dubious, keeping people’s teeth without permission). One day, someone was at my desk and found my little tin of teeth and freaked out and threw them all away and I was very sad.

I also briefly worked as a dental assistant for a time, that was also fun, but I didn’t get to keep any teeth.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

this website just feels like home

[douche-canoe-regatta]

This reminds me of the time I found a bag of teeth in my glovebox!

On break one day, hiding in my car as per usual, I innocently attempted to shove a handful of loose tip money in my glove compartment, i.e. a Later Me problem. However, when the door fell open, a bag of absolutely wretchéd (human?) teeth shamelessly presented itself with a hearty CLUNK as the drawer slammed open from the weight.

I contemplated the bag of teeth as it settled, gently clacking, telling me... something.

First thought: Well, of course there's a bag of teeth in my glove box. Not a modicum of shock. It felt... inevitable. Oh yeah, here's the teeth. The teeth compartment. There they are. A mysterious bag of (extremely filthy? HUMAN??) teeth is confusing and potentially threatening to most, sure. But I know who I am.

More importantly, I know who I'm married to.

Gathering up the precarious bag of (fake human? yes??) teeth, I sent my spouse this image and the following question:

Why is there a bag of teeth in my car

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

see u just can't get this shit on twitter

[black-crested-jaybird]

@douche-canoe-regatta But what was your spouse's reply??

[douche-canoe-regatta]

@black-crested-jaybird GOOD QUESTION FRIEND

So there I sit, baking in my hot car, a bag of Somebody Else's Teeth on my lap, awaiting a reply from my spouse like an urgent telegram. Against all sense and propriety I open said bag and start fishing through my treasure, holding them up to the light like a jeweler for inspection.

The teeth (pleasantly cool in my sweaty palms) are upsettingly - and unquestionably - human. Heavy as pearls, hard as hell, slick as bone china. The base of each tooth is coated in a sticky red substance, which I scrape off to properly examine. Somewhere, the Law and Order theme is playing. Ice T shakes his head at my folly.

The phone, and my spouse, remain silent.

After a very thorough examination, I come to a comforting conclusion: these are, in fact, (almost) entirely fake human teeth, likely blanks to use as replacements for the unteethed. The red substance is apparently wax, possibly to sort and display said chompers. This does not at all explain why they are, again, in my fucking glove box.

The phone finally beeples, and I shove the handful of teeth in my jacket pocket: another Later Me problem. Right now, knowledge is paramount.

The first message is not enlightening.

Spouse: OH NOOOO YOU FOUND THEM

me: ????????????

Spouse: I'll explain when you get home

me: ??????!!!!!!!!

SPOILER ALERT: My spouse purchased the teeth at an estate sale for a dentist who'd recently passed. They happened to borrow my shitbox car that day and shoved the bag in the glove box to keep it hidden. A clear failure, as I don't know how you forget a bag of teeth in someone else's car, but that's not my mystery to solve.

It turns out my spouse had a plan for those teeth. And O! what a plan it was! You see, we'd recently purchased The Property: a strange house built by an unbelievably creepy (and now thankfully deceased) mechanic in the early 50s. Not fun creepy, like my bag of teeth. More "Why is there a hatch cut into your roof" or "What is that secret compartment for" and "Why are there printouts of police codes everywhere." This is important, because...

...The Spouse's plan was to take these teeth and hide them throughout The Property. The very large, multi-structure Property we'd barely explored. They swore up and down they would never have shared their provenance with me; it was intended I would find each tooth over the course of years, growing more frustrated and confused every time a molar showed up in the attic or garage or Hatch or any number of infinite hidey-holes we now possessed.

This was a great plan, for sure. 10/10. And it might have worked, if they could hold it together long enough to fool me (doubtful). But I don't think it would have, because after all:

They left a motherfucking bag of teeth in my car.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

#plot didn't so much thicken as SOLIDIFY

[qqchurch]

[qqchurch]

[gilgameshhimself]

(Getting swindled by a genie) it’s like talking to a fucking tumblr user with you

[higglety]

the genie: how dare you say I'm fucking a tumblr user

[locallegume]

I was gifted bathtub bulgestarion for my bday what should I do with him. Good and bad ideas please

[locallegume]

Update I am putting this cactus in it I am dying how did they have a cactus So Perfect

[locallegume]

ITS DONE

[benjamintycandy]

[locallegume]

HIGHLY IMPORTANT UPDATE HE IS IN BLOOM

[aces-to-apples]

My partner who had me watch Kpop Demon Hunters is not supportive of my time-honored passion of getting a new little guy to obsess over and going "they should meet Darth Maul" because fully despairing demon-mode Rumi should absolutely meet Maul. I think it would be cool and fun for both of them. "You're mentally ill" well you're not seeing my vision of Dathomir as a place that shares an underworld (spirit world?) with Earth, and a Maul who sees a panicking, patterned Rumi have a mental breakdown because the Golden Honmoon did catch her like a full-on demon and goes "oh thank god, I was getting bored, time to see if the fourth time's the charm". Give that bitch some Force training and a lightsaber, come on now!

[aces-to-apples]

You're 25 max and a worldwide superstar, just unthinkably rich and famous, everyone knows your name and your words and your voice. And you have a secret that's drowning you in shame, has been since the day you were born. Because for all your riches and fame and beauty and power, no matter how much or how many people claim to adore you, you were born a mistake. It's been haunting you your whole life, this enormous thing that would make the most important people in your life recoil in fear and disgust and (increasingly) hatred if they saw it, if they understood the enormity of the mistake that you are. You only have one chance to fix it. And it's meant to fix the world, sure, but aren't you part of the world? Don't you deserve, after everything you've been through and everything you've given up and everything you've been denied again and again, to have the mistake that you are erased. Fixed. You have one chance. You find someone who understands, and it's infuriating and confusing and painful, because it's someone like you—someone made up of mistakes. But you find them, and you build something together, something small but meaningful. You make each other better. You tell him about the horror, the enormity, the mistake. You tell him that you can fix it; you can fix them both. He doesn't quite believe you, but that's okay. You can believe enough for both of you. And when the moment comes, in front of untold thousands of people claiming to love you and your voice and your song—who do love them, because the power of the song and the plan wouldn't work of they didn't—the plan works. Everything shimmers in song and love and gold, gold, gold.

It's beautiful, as beautiful as you always knew it would be, and terrible.

Because you were wrong. No matter what you do or how hard you tried, it doesn't change what you are, it doesn't change the mistake. The gold that had been beauty and light and love becomes chains, burning hot against your skin, your soul, and they drag you down. Through the floor of the world, into the world of demons, Gwi-Ma's domain of demons and shame. But even that isn't enough. Because you're something so much worse than just a person who made a terrible mistake—you're a thing that is a terrible mistake, and the gold drags you farther down than even a demon could ever reach. The sky is fire and the air is thick and the plants are twisted, alien, and you have no idea how you could be so hateful, so hated, that your mere existence warrants—deserves—such a wretched hell. You scream, the air searing fuchsia and the ground quaking under the force of your pain, your confusion, your pleas. Why have you never been enough, just once? Why is it always one more thing, one more quest, one more condition? Haven't you done everything right?

You scream and scream, until this hateful new world is drenched in the color of your shame, until you're no longer screaming at all, but sobbing like a child because everything is gone, it's all lost, and you don't even have the comfort of that small, meaningful thing you once cobbled together with an enemy. Eventually, curled up on your knees like the truth can't find you if you refuse to see it, a new voice enters the chat. It isn't Gwi-Ma, fiery and resonating with all the worst parts of yourself. It's soft, and melodic, and it asks you if you've burnt yourself out, if you're hurt, if it can help you. When you drag your eyes open, crusted together with old tears and older grief, it's still a demon at the other end of the voice. The horns and patterns are different, but the eyes burn the same, and you're so so tired. So you let the demon talk, let it take your hands, let it help you up, let it steady you when you stumble. It looks inquisitively at your hair, at your patterns, at the clothes that you were meant to be wearing on your first day as a real person, but it doesn't ask. It coaxes clean you water into you, and your name out of you, and if Celene had her way you'd be fighting tooth and nail against this too, desperate to prove that you're not just a demon, that you deserve to live and be real. But just like Jinu, this demon looks at you and somehow sees something that isn't a mistake, and right now you need that more than ever before. Because you don't think you can believe that yourself, anymore. And even if the eyes are calculating, the words are soft and the hands are kind. If there's anything like a honmoon here, it's a weak and fuchsia thing, warped and rotten just like Gwi-Ma's power was making Earth's, before you turned it Golden and it took you with it. What harm could it do to accept a demon's kindness now?

I mean... has there ever been a more valid reason to crash out?

[glumshoe]

do Ents reproduce by sexual intercourse or by pollination

[glumshoe]

But if they reproduce through pollination how can they be sure they no longer reproduce? Maybe they’re anemophilous and are wind-pollinated and if they stand in a strong enough breeze an Entwife, somewhere, conceives an Entseed.

[glumshoe]

oh my god maybe the Entwives were bees

you are a mad genius

[glumshoe]

Ok, so, we have a few options:

1.) Ents reproduce exclusively through sexual intercourse, or something close to it

OR

2.) Ents reproduce via pollination and...

a.) are dioecious, with Ents producing only male flowers and Entwives producing only female flowers, and pollinated either by wind or by animals (or by hand?)

b.) have bisexual flowers, but which are so specialized that they can exclusively be pollinated by one specific species of pollinator...

The Entwives left the forest so long ago that the Ents no longer remember what they looked like. Treebeard says the Shire sounds like the sort of place they would have loved, with its gardens and flowers and agriculture. Hobbits have folklore of giant bees, named after bumblebees. Certain flowers only release pollen to “buzz pollinators”, like bumblebees.

Could it be that the Ents—who notoriously do everything slowly—failed to evolve quickly enough to compete with agricultural crops for the time and attention of their only pollinator species? Did the Entwives dump the Ents to evolve into regular bees faster than the Ents could even consciously process? DOES SAM GAMGEE THE GARDENER’S BOY KEEP ENTWIVES?!

I think we’ve done it. I think we’ve cracked the code. (Shut the fuck up, Jirt, no one asked you.)

[transfem-octopus]

It’s only in the movies that the Ents cannot remember the Ent wives. In the books they’ve described as having golden hair, red cheeks, and eyes like the Ents. Meaning the Entwives probably resembled the ents in appearance.

Likewise in the books the Ents were basically tree like giants instead of giant trees. As seen below

Peter Jackson reimagined the Ents as being giant trees instead of tree like giants so returning to the original question I propose a compromise:

Treebeard from the movies reproduces through pollination by the Ent Wives who are giant bees.

Treebeard from the books fucks. 

[glumshoe]

“Golden hair”?

“Red (butt) cheeks”?

Sounds like a rusty patched bumblebee to me.

[glumshoe]

[krystal-prisms]

You've been hit by

You've been struck by a

[nohoperadio]

A spoon's only objective in life is to make soup go upwards, and it knows this. That's why when you put one under a running tap it blasts the water way high. The spoon thinks there's suddenly TONS of soup to deal with and it freaks out.

[mortimermcmirestinks]

OP I want you to know I think of this post every single time I have to wash a spoon.

[an-ruraiocht]

also i was trying to work out if my wet beast was a cormorant or a shag so i tried googling "shag uk" and. well. that didn't go well

so then i tried "shag birds uk"

this was not an improvement

[courtesycalling]