noise dept.
Fieri Frames
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Not today Justin
Claire Keane
Doug Jones
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
occasionally subtle
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
untitled

Product Placement
Fai_Ryy
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

No title available
The Bright Sessions
The Bowery Presents
Game of Thrones Daily
taylor price

ellievsbear
seen from Togo

seen from Japan

seen from Ecuador
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seen from United States
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seen from Canada
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@midnightaeris
The problem with being a daddy’s girl is that if your dad is disappointed in you, you feel worthless as if you shouldn’t exist. 👌👍
New Phone Who Dis
Science fiction is full of first contact stories, but is there a such thing as LAST contact? Decide exactly what that means, and write about it.
It was too late, when the humans came. They were a young species, still exploring outwards, vital and thriving.
We… were not.
War had ravaged us, and sickness, and war once again, until our population dwindled beyond the point of recovery. We struggled against that, of course… we used genetic manipulation, and cloning, and even more desperate measures. None succeeded. When the humans came, we were sinking into apathy, only a few tens of us left. We had begun to discuss whether we should commit a mass suicide, or simply wait to fade away.
And then the young species came, in their clumsy ships, and they asked us why we were so few.
“We are becoming extinct,” we told them. “We have passed the point of recovery.”
It is custom to avoid the races that are dying – once a species reaches the point of inevitable extinction, even war is suspended, and the fiercest enemy pulls back. The custom was born of plagues and poisons that could be carried forth from a dying world to afflict a healthy one, but it has the implacable weight of tradition now. After we are gone, after they have waited for the prescribed period of quarantine, there will be a fight for our world. Habitable worlds are few, and this is a good one, with plenty of free groundwater and thriving vegetation. It is a bitter thing to be grateful for the custom that allows us to die in peace, but we are grateful.
But the humans don’t know that custom, and they do not leave. They seem distraught, when we tell them we are dying, and try to offer their aid - but their technology is behind ours, and it is too late. When they realize that they can’t save us, though, they do something that bewilders us.
Keep reading
I’m crying
I’d be the one to get up and join lol