they're on a video conference
One Nice Bug Per Day

ellievsbear
Claire Keane

if i look back, i am lost
Stranger Things
Today's Document
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

@theartofmadeline
styofa doing anything

Product Placement
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

PR's Tumblrdome
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Love Begins

Discoholic 🪩

roma★
Xuebing Du

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
i don't do bad sauce passes
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

seen from United States

seen from India
seen from Japan

seen from France

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

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 France
seen from United States

seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Spain

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
@lcrowelli0
they're on a video conference
moment of unspeakable beauty today when one of my coworkers called another coworker "judas" for not splitting a can of white monster with her, and i got to watch the guy who sits next to me open a new google tab, type in "jeudis," and say quietly to himself "french thursday...?"
Snowball in Hell, acrylics, 30cmx20cm
I used a random piece of wire to paint the smallest details..!
Once again I´m thinking of Snowball in Hell, one of my favourite paintings ever
hello! i am crumb cat!
socials
twitter youtube twitch
Dungeon Meshi’s Lady Monsters
10x10cm
watercolour
A cyanometer is a device used to measure the intensity of blue in the sky, often used in meteorology and atmospheric studies. It typically consists of a series of blue color patches or a color gradient, allowing the user to compare the sky’s color to these reference colors.
Do you like the wheel of the sky
Well I like that it doesn't take 5 minutes to scroll past.
reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead
I’d just like to point out the growth in this post has mostly coincided with elon’s public spiral downward and I’d like to think we’re all a small part of that
bro can’t think because he’s just got a rager of a migraine 24/7
yes I would like to give elon musk my menstrual pain. I think he deserves it
Reblog to also give Elon Musk your menstrual pain.
theo van gogh was the one who suggested that his older brother vincent start seriously painting. as soon as theo was gainfully employed he gave vincent around 15% of his own yearly salary for art supplies, lodging, and food. about 2/3rds of vincent's surviving letters were to theo (including vincent's earliest and last letters), all of which were found stored in theo's desk. theo's child, vincent willem, was born on january 31st, 1890, and vincent was so delighted by his nephew that he painted almond blossoms for him. vincent shot himself half a year later on july 29th, 1890. theo's distress at his brother's death worsened his syphilis symptoms and he died half a year after his brother on january 25th, 1891 (four days before vincent willem's first birthday). theo was reburied next to vincent in auvers-sur-oise at the request of theo's wife johanna.
Almond Blossoms, 1890, Vincent van Gogh
being an extremely light sleeper who doesn't go to bed until 3-4 am so no matter where i live my roommates & friends say stuff like, "wake us up if the tornado sirens go off, "wake us up if the tsunami sirens go off," "wake us up if that bear comes back by camp,"
when people say these things i can't help but feel i'm satisfying my evolutionary purpose as night guard. it's just easier now than it would've been for me 10,000 years ago bc i have a flashlight and a weather app.
I'm a fisher price Rescue Heroes action figure
I read an AITA post a few weeks back about a woman who liked having snacks in the bath when she's had a long day (a result of residual trauma iirc - the bath was her safe space). Her brand new husband of three weeks, a man twice her age who had no job, made her pay all of his bills and do all housework, and spent all day every day gaming because he wanted to make it as a Twitch streamer, had always been fine with this; but, on the day in question, had whisked her bath snacks out of her hands as she was on her way to the bathroom and tried to bin them, telling her it was time to 'break her of that filthy habit in his home'. She told him if he ever actually paid anything towards the house she owns outright he might get a say, took her snacks back, and had her lovely bath. He was since giving her the silent treatment.
(Obviously the judgement was an avalanche of 'NTA and also he's abusing you', which she agreed with, and decided to kick him out, so happy ending.)
Anyway I told my husband about this and he was outraged. "I would never do that!" he told me, furious. "I would find it adorable if you had bath snacks!"
Since then, every time I try to have a bath (which I only do as a rare treat) after about ten minutes there has been an anxious scrabbling at the bathroom door.
"Elanor!" he says. "Do you have bath snacks? Do you need anything?"
My answer is irrelevant. He brings me wine and poptarts. Now I have bath snacks. I'm a bath snacks person. Last time he was literally sleeping on the sofa when I went for the bath. Somehow this still happened. I now have an eager bathroom butler. How did this happen. I have never been so decadent yet bewildered.
some asshole: tries to control his wife by withholding bath snacks
op's husband:
This website is elite. This website is the blueprint, it's the pinnacle. There is no website like it. I lwill never leave this website
i need everyone reblogging this to know that O'Shea Jr is Ice Cube's son
When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.
And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.
I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.
I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anyway.
And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.
Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?
I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could knit me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.
So my mom found the next best thing.
The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.
And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.
...
Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?
A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.
She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.
And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.
Who’s the bitch they keep on retainer at Lumon to paint foreboding wall size oil paintings on a 12 hour deadline
maybe this time picking at Textures on my skin will lead to being silky smooth
bleeding
my day job is at a college, and this morning my boss was like "go collect all the suggestion slips from our suggestion boxes around the school and create a document and a spreadsheet outlining the needs of the student body."
Ok cool very easy! fun, even!
there were two. two suggestions.
"spring fling should be steampunk themed :3 I'd like to see more pipes and gears with no discernible function"
and
"free food. starbocks. privitized resturaunts."
I can't wait to turn in my 1/8th page report with "pipes and gears with no discernible function" and three out of five words misspelled on it. the students have spoken, boss; such are the needs of the student body.
Report complete I'm off to grab lunch at a privitized resturaunt
this duck LOVES pink drink