Cosimo Galluzzi
NASA
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Claire Keane
Xuebing Du

shark vs the universe
will byers stan first human second

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ojovivo
Cosmic Funnies
YOU ARE THE REASON
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Kiana Khansmith
hello vonnie

gracie abrams

if i look back, i am lost

blake kathryn
Fai_Ryy
Sade Olutola

ellievsbear
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@kosmosxipo
the thing about being bullied for being weird as a kid is that even if you've always embraced being weird your brain is still always looking for the line where it's too much. you can be as proudly and intentionally weird as you want and you can love being weird but your mind is still convinced there's a point where you get too weird and people start treating you like a weird looking bug again. also it feels like you reach that point 500 times a day even if everyone you've spoken to today found you pleasant and likable and even if you're completely alone in your house with nobody looking at you at all.
Today's Adventure is that I, after an unintentional 13-hour power nap,
Got woken up at 6AM by a phone call from a friend stranded in Montana because of the heat wave and almost no cell service because of their crap provider.
OhSoThat'sHowIt'sGonnaBe.jpg
Ok.
I somehow summon a week's worth of spoons and in less than 30 minutes and 5 phone calls, get them
A hotel
An appointment with a mechanic from 2 states away
A perscription refilled from 2 states away
and A Pizza
Go me.
But then it's 8AM and there are unscheduled live humans at the door and while EVERGENCY MODE is still on, I have already blown through a ton of spoons, and also probably shouldn't meet whoever it is wearing just a pair of bootyshorts that say "CRYPTID" in Gothic Font on my ass.
So I greet them in those shorts and a T-shirt that I manage to put on both inside out and backwards
#nailedit
It is, Fortunately, not the mormons.
it is, Unfortunately, two UPS guys trying to deliver my other in-house friend's new phone except the new guy doesn't know how to operate the "sign for package" device, and the old guy that's supposed to be mentoring him is like, 92, deaf as a post, and doesn't actually know how to operate the device either.
by the way
it is already
over 100 out
it takes almost 30 minutes to sign for the phone
when i get back inside, i discover that apparently the Corgi has learned how to open his kennel from the inside because he is now out of the kennel and waiting for me to come in.
he also has cat litter all over his face because while he was waiting for me he also learned how to open the baby gate to the cat's room and help himself to a cat shit breakfast.
He'll be fine
He's a cattle dog, they're legally required to have at least 1 really disgusting snack they love.
but
more to the point
i have no idea at what point he learned to open his kennel from the inside
has he been staying there out of politeness this whole time??
And
I got other shit to do today.
namely.
I'm seeing a realator
The Devils most pathetic yet effective demons
I get a reminder text that I have an appointment with her
at least
I think that's what it is because what she sends me is: "🏡⏰12:00 ❔"
With the time typed in the middle like that.
She is, according to her profile, at least 80.
so I reply "😎👍"
and then she sends me a string of GODDAMN POST-MODERN EMOJI HEIROGLYPHICS THAT TAKE UP MY ENTIRE SCREEN.
She's on an iPhone so half of them don't even translate across platforms
It takes me half an hour and three different software programs and goddamn wingdings to translate, but she has sent me the address and rules about masking and not wearing shoes inside.
in emoji
instead of like
literally any other format
I am
FASCINATED
and simply must meet the woman so if I don't come back to update I got stolen by the fairies but I'm taking the Corgi with me as protection so I'll see y'all later.
Update:
It's not fairies
It's Doris.
might be about to get a sewing machine and/or start an ACAB riot.
Ok, so:
I'm going to see a prospective house because due to various circumstances, I'm probably going to be moving to the other side of a major metropolitan area in the next few months, but that's not important.
I get to the house
I get a text from the realtor
The realtor is not the person who has been texting me in emoji
The person texting me in emoji is the homeowner, who the realtor says will let me in if I want, she's running late.
Sure
Why not
I put Herschel on leash and go to the front door
As much crime as he commits at home Herschel The Hanukkah Goblin has terrific public manners, and is Very Cute so I'm about 90% sure the emoji fairy is going to let me take him through the house
Door opens.
90-something blue haired old lady with a spine like a question mark and glasses that could be used as telescope lenses opens the door.
"OH [Gallus]! How lovely to see you!"
This woman clearly knows me because she remembers my anniversary was last week and that my sister is back from Australia.
Problem is
I know about 500 geriatric ladies with blue hair, scoliosis and extreme prescription glasses, because I am a member of 2 quilt guilds, the scientific illustration guild, the rocky mountain SCA and stagehand for three different theater companies, so I know everyone's grandma and fuck me if I can tell them apart.
Wait
There's a quilt in thekitchen, visible front hall
I don't know faces but apparently I can recognize applique techniques at 40paces.
"...Doris? From SAQA?"
"YES! Who is this handsome little man?"
Herschel speaks enough English to know that "handsome little man" means "this person will feed me milk bones and bacon if I'm cute enough"
Immediately does a Sit Pretty and Shake.
Doris is bewitched
This is fine, but I also know I'm about to severely disappoint the realtor because there is no way in hell I'm moving into this House.
Because
The reason Doris is moving out is that her neighbor is a Cunt Magnifique and has been harassing Doris and everyone else to form an HOA and "improve the quality of our residents" because this woman has nothing better to do than be a racist-ass busy body, and recently, she's set her husband, a county sheriff on Doris, trying to bully her into signing paperwork and threatening her with legal action and writing her up for bullshit property violations
Ain't putting up with that shit
And neither is Doris, so she's selling all her shit and moving out to live with her grandchildren in Santa Monica.
But she's technologically impaired, so the only indication that there is an estate sale happening is a small paper sign in her front yard.
"Doris." I say, as Herschel makes himself comfortable on the couch for belly rubs and pieces of ham. "Did you tell SAQA or FRCC or anyone on Facebook that you're having the sale?"
"oh, I don't know how to do all that!" She sighs. "I tried to call the Denver post but they just put me on hold for ages..."
"Watch Herschel for 20 minutes and he's only allowed to have that one piece of ham."
Pics of everything
Address, time and pics to Facebook, both quilt guilds she's in, two more I have contacts for, nextdoor, and the local SCA discord for good measure.
It's 12 minutes and Herschel persuaded her to give him at least three pieces of ham.
He is petitioning for a fourth by doing a little puppy dance on the living room rug.
"OK, that's enough ham, people will be here in 10. Where is your cash box?"
Because apparently I'm running an estate sale today too.
It's fine :)
There's about 7 minutes of quiet.
Then
They DESCEND
The first on the scene is DeeDee, who doesn't believe in speed limits. She's arrived with a horse trailer. I remember that she is also moving.
"HI DORIS SWEETHEART WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS TODAY I WAS GOING TO TAKE ALL THIS TO THE GOODWILL HERE LET ME SET UP ON YOUR LAWN "
DeeDee is 73, and has a special spiritual bond with Hello Kitty. She weighs like 98lbs, dresses exclusively in neon pink sanrio clothes and the kind of eye makeup drag queens aspire to.
She also speaks non-stop at a volume normally associated with jet engines.
Half the horse trailer is already spread out on the lawn.
Doris is putting price stickers on stuff
Herschel is trying to tear open a bag of cotton batting.
This, and the arrival of approximately 56 minivans, five more trucks with horse trailers and Corgi Excitement Screaming alert Cunt Magnifique that something is happening outside.
Madame saunters off her porch up to Doris and Demands to know what's happening, you're supposed to notify the neighborhood and get a permit to-"
Doris, surrounded by her pack of silver wolves, shouts. "OH HELLO! EVERYONE, THIS IS MARCIA. I'VE TOLD YOU ALL ABOUT MARCIA." >:)c
... further details in a bit I think the Vikings are here.
~`* SOMEONE'S GETTING FIRED!!*`~
OK so.
You know those high school house parties you see in movies, where the person invites only a few friends, but those friends call their friends, and those friends call THEIR friends and soon like 500 people show up to one house and someone calls the cops and that one John Mulaney sketch with "SCATTER!" happens?
Old people will 100% do this too, except instead of a house party it's an estate sale on a wednesday afternoon and when the cop shows up there are lawyers present and he is in DEEP SHIT because his wife just spent the afternoon admitting to doing a bunch of wildly illegal shit on tape.
So when we left off, the party had really started getting underway, because Marcia the Cunt Magnifique had decided to crash the estate sale and whine about "we're supposed to coordinate garage sales as a neighborhood" and "your friends are blocking traffic on this cul-de-sac while nobody is home" weh weh-
DeeDee is about ready to throw hands but she is nowhere near the most dangerous of the Silver Silver Wolves.
That's Dr. Ruth.
Dr. Ruth turned 99 this year and went paragliding for her birthday
So you understand just how hard she goes
Dr. Ruth sort of hobbles over and point-blank asks "So I understand you've been trying to start a homeowner's association?" :3c
Marcia
Entirely misunderstanding how much danger she's in
Starts enumerating the TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS of trying to start one, because SOME PEOPLE DON'T RESPECT AUTHORITY and all the paperwork and talking to people and she even had to ask HER HUSBAND. A SHERRIF. To go around and hand people stuff to sign.
Some people, right?
Dr. Ruth nods. Some people. She agrees.
You know.
Her son is a lawyer.
Why doesn't she give him a call?
Marcia, a Moron: Oh that'd be great!
Dr. Ruth, hobbling back to Doris: "Don't worry. David will handle this."
Meanwhile
The Friends-Of-Friends and the Friends-Of-Friends-Of-Friends are arriving, lured in because they heard the words "Longarm Sewing Machine" and "Hand-made quilts"
Various factions present include but are far from limited to: -Probably Six Quilt Guilds -The Denver Art League -The Denver Leather League -The Vikings -The Klingons -The Colorado Wild Game Share -A Pack of Scientific Illustrators -A Pack of Assorted Scientists they brought with them -The Sheep Lesbians -The Horse Lesbians -Three Extremely Competent Finnish People (My Scientific Illustration Professor and her sisters) who immediately take over the estate sale and turn it into an auction to maximize profit and keep the taxes in order.
Someone brings two additional Corgi called "Cap" and "Bucky"
They are Pembroke Corgi, and weigh about 21lbs apiece
Herschel is a Cardigan Welsh Corgi and weighs 42lbs because he's hug even for a Cardigan, and is Delighted with his New Minions.
They worship him as a God and follow him around so every time he sticks his face in something two smaller corgi faces immediately follow, like some kind of adorable cerberus.
Pelts and meat shares are being traded out of the backs of trucks and vans
Someone is making bratwurst.
Intrigued by the Brouhaha, Doris' neighbors emerge.
They are also Geriatric and very nervous, because Marcia has been harassing them too.
They are telling this to the members of these factions that are also lawyers.
There are at least 5 of them so far and David isn't even here yet.
I realize my realtor isn't even here.
I decide to text her.
She is somewhere in the crowd and having a nervous breakdown because She's SO LATE!!!
Ma'am.
It's 103 out.
I was just handed a freshly grilled Brat
Some bitch is incriminating herself on the lawn.
Nothing scheduled is happening.
Come sit in the yard and watch the Corgis play on the Palyskool plastic slide set. They're disassembling it like tiny furry engineers.
Have a bratwurst.
One of the Klingons appears, having physically carried my realtor through the crowd, and gently deposits her on the lawn before handing her a Bratwurst.
Diane, the Realtor, is not much older than I am, and from the preppie swaths of society that has "Never had a dog growing up" and "Didn't Know People Could Just. Make. Blankets?" and "What is this? It's like a hot dog but spicy?"
She is having a LEARNING EXPERIENCE.
One of the Horse Lesbians comes over and compliments Diane on her Dior handbag.
Diane thanks her ans compliments the apparently expensive brand scarf she has on. Do you. Know all these people?
Horse Lesbian explains that she's part of the SCA, and what that is, and that why yes. Her girlfriend Tasha is an armorer. Yes like for knights.
More Livestock Lesbians assemble.
They are pulling off shirts to show off livestock and battle scars, and biceps.
Diane is LEARNING A LOT TODAY.
I am just getting everyone's contact info and making sure Herschel does not consume his weight in bratwurst.
BWOOP!
Uh-Oh.
Marcia's Husband is here.
I step out front.
He has used the siren to largely part the crowd and pull into his driveway but it has closed around him and there is No Escape.
He starts huffing and puffing about blocked traffic and permits and the like, but this is not his usual Can-Bully-Without-Consequences crowd.
These are Grandmas.
Veterans of the 60's protest front who never let up.
He's starting to turn bright red and looks like he's about to cry and I've got my phone out to record whatever Incident is about to occur.
-And a Mercedes pulls up.
It's David.
Dr. Ruth's son.
The Lawyer.
And I emphasize that The because David is not some mere ambulance chaser.
David is the guy that the state sends to prosecute Corporate Fraud and Organized Crime and Other State Departments.
David was part of the team that took down the CO Branch of the KKK.
David is all of 5'4", very round and a balding little man that looks like the Dictonary Definition of "Nebbish" that moves with such intense confidence and authority that he pretty much has the Pillar Men Theme Blasting behind him at all times.
So when he and three other lawyers from the state's office step out of the car
Mr. Sherrif goes from red to while like color-changing octopus and I am like 50% sure he shit himself.
Because what he and Marcia have been doing is Very, Very, Very, VERY, Fucking Illegal.
"mArCiA!" he garbles. "sHuT tHe fUcK uP!"
Marcia is standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac, having spent the last 3 hours recounting to anyone who will listen about the 'measures she's had to take' and now the 5 lawyers that were here are delightedly handing over the paperwork that she had forced on Doris and her Neighbors, and pointing at all the doorbell cameras and witnesses out to the state's top prosecutor.
Friends
I ugly laughed.
FOUR HOURS LATER: -Auction wrapped up with a solid $40K to Doris' name plus pending sales on some of her larger furniture and antiques
Plus whatever David gets in damages from the county sherrif's office.
Marcia and husband are fucking busted
Herschel spent all afternoon running around and eating snacks and is passed out on the floor
Diane is "meeting up with" one of the Horse Lesbians next week.
The sewing machine went to someone else but I did open my purse and found out Doris or someone shoved a bunch of cash in there.
I'm getting ice dream and going to bed.
#stefan voice: this post has everything #senior citizens. quilts. hello kitty. vikings. horse lesbians. legal consequences. finnish auctioneers. one realtor’s gay awakening. corgis.
(@nonasuch)
Friendly dog-sized bombus terrestris. What a fluffy buddy
Sparklina in: Rawr of the Wild
this is probably my favorite tiktok of all time and I finally got around to showing it to my dad the other day and now he comes home every day and tells me about all the places he saw crumbling concrete and says "guess they didn't add enough chinchilla flakes"
My dad has worked in construction is whole life, primarily with a company that does concrete foundations, and I immediately sent him this back when I first found it on TikTok, and he IMMEDIATELY shared it with everyone he worked with. They apparently still quote it on his job sites to this day.
"oh, I live in a desert and-"
"wow that must be so terrible" "deserts are so ugly" "I would never want to live in a wasteland like that" "it's just empty nothingness"
wishing 10,000 exploding hammers upon you
behold New Mexico
[ID 1: tall, snowcapped rocky mountains rising above a plain filled with desert scrub
ID 2: brightly colored banded cliff walls of several mesas climbing their way into mountains
ID 3: a desert prairie
ID 4: colorful hoodoos against a twilight sky
ID 5: white sand dunes as far as the eye can see
ID 6: a collection of hoodoos against a stormy sky at sunset
ID 7: a juniper tree standing with a cliff wall in the background
ID 8: several juniper trees on a rocky landscape]
this post and all its wonderful additions (look in the notes) is circulating again. these photos and many of the ones added in the notes come from the US Southwest.
right now the trump administration is attacking the public lands in the Southwestern US. most recently (July 2026), in Utah the Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante national monuments have been cut by over 90% to allow for mining. these lands are sacred to multiple Native nations in the area and contain irreplaceable archeological sites. additionally, the commission of Native representatives who aided in management of these lands has been dissolved leaving Native people without a voice in caring for the remaining land. (read more here)
here in New Mexico, the 10 mile buffer zone surrounding Chaco Canyon preventing oil and gas drilling is under attack. Chaco Canyon contains incredibly old and incredibly fragile archeological sites sacred to Pueblo people. these sites are threatened by mining and drilling. (read more here)
The attack on the Chaco buffer zone is currently in a public comment period open until July 29. PLEASE leave a public comment to save these irreplaceable places.
some people have cut this addition off of their reblogs and quite frankly that's disturbing.
you can't appreciate the desert and also erase the fact that these places are under attack.
and I'd even say it's downright racist. this isn't "just" the desert, these are sacred locations to multiple Native nations and they are under attack because they are sacred to many Native people. the least you can do is reblog to raise awareness to the attacks on these lands. there is no going back from mining and drilling. there is no way to repair these ancient archeological sites when the vibrations in the ground topple them and when they are bulldozed.
submitting a public comment is the absolute bare minimum you can do and if you can't be assed to write 1 sentence saying you don't support removing the Chaco buffer zone then at least leave the reblog encouraging other people to do so attached.
Ryland Grace and his popularity as a character feels like such an important step in repairing the cultural tsunami left by the long running trope of every genius character needing to be an insufferable asshole to everyone in a ten mile radios about it.
Conversely, Eva Stratt is doing wonders for repairing and inspiring a appreciation for commanding women with dubious moral convictions who are fully willing to bend laws for the greater good without hesitation.
And together they are doing brilliant things by not kissing or hooking up even once.
“Rey’s not a Skywalker” not in a “Rey sucks, the sequels suck” way but in a “Rey From Nowhere is a much more interesting dynamic in a formulaic series, and The Rise of Skywalker sucked specifically” way
OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD HOLY SHIT THEYR'E ESCAPING OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MANY AHGHHHHHHHHHHHH AGGGFFFGGGUCKKKK woah they are rehoming a man as well .
dude i don't normally like to dig at peoples fun i generally think people having fun is good but it is slightly disheartening when there's a really really good story about a strong platonic relationship and then the only thing the fans can do is ship the characters or worse make a crack ship with an unrelated character from another media because it's like they can't STAND a lack of romance in media like they absolutely must try to insert romance where it is absolutely not needed or relevant and honestly sours the story/media a lot more for me or they'll Die because they can't just be happy with a really good platonic relationship. it makes me very sad as a demiromantic girlie.
Bro wants to be a fop but he's barely dapper
Bro called himself bohemian with zero joie de vivre
you know what actually pisses me off? when I finally start to feel a smidge of confidence in my writing ability and then some JERK POSTS A SINGLE LINE FROM A TERRY PRATCHETT NOVEL AND IT’S BETTER THAN ANYTHING I WILL EVER WRITE NO MATTER HOW MANY MILLENNIA I SPEND TRYING!
Terry was a professional writer from the age of 17. He worked as a journalist which meant that he had to learn to research, write and edit his own work very quickly or else he’d lose his job.
He was 23 when his first novel was published. After six years of writing professionally every single day. The Carpet People was a lovely novel, from a lovely writer, but almost all of Terry’s iconic truth bomb lines come from Discworld.
The Colour of Magic, the first ever Discworld novel was published in 1983. Terry was 35 years old. He had been writing professionally for 18 years. His career was old enough to vote, get married and drink. We now know that at 35 he was, tragically, over half way through his life. And do you know what us devoted, adoring Discworld fans say about The Colour of Magic? “Don’t start with Colour of Magic.”
It is the only reading order rule we ever give people. Because it’s not that great. Don’t get me wrong, very good book, although I’ll be honest I’ve never been able to finish it, but it’s nowhere near his later stuff. Compare it to Guards Guards, The Fifth Elephant, the utterly iconic Nightwatch and it pales in comparison because even after nearly 20 years of writing, half a lifetime of loving books and storytelling Terry was still learning.
He was a man with a wonderful natural talent, yes. But more importantly he worked and worked and worked to be a better writer. He was writing up until days before he died. He spent 49 years learning and growing as a writer, taking so much joy in storytelling that not even Alzheimer’s could steal it from him. He wouldn’t want that joy stolen from you too.
Terry was a wonderful, kind, compassionate, genius of a writer. And all of this was in spite of many many people telling him he wasn’t good enough. At the age of five his headmaster told him that he would never amount to anything. He died a knight of the realm and one of the most beloved writers ever to have lived in a country with a vast and rich literary tradition. He wouldn’t let anyone tell him that he wasn’t good enough. And he wouldn’t want you to think you aren’t good enough. He especially wouldn’t want to be the reason why you think you aren’t good enough.
You’re not Terry Pratchett.
You are you.
And Terry would love that.
I only ever had a chance to talk to Terry Pratchett once, and that was in an autograph line. I’d bought a copy of The Carpet People, which was his very first book, and he looked at it with a faint air of concern. “You realise that I wrote that when I was very young,” he said, in warning.
“Yes,” I said. “But I like seeing how authors grow.”
He brightened and reached for his pen. “That’s all right then,” he said, and signed.
local matchmaker losing it over yet another unrealistic demand from the clientele 🤣🤣
Translation by me. :))