My dog is a butt. @mydogisabutt - Tumblr Blog

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theocseason4

When my daughter asks me why I named her Rhony I’ll just show her this video

trapcard

I love hereditary

bitterblackbitch

ariesmarsinthe3rd

all 5 of them are having a completely different experience and conversation

mydogisabutt

i haven’t been on tumblr in 5,709 years but here i am JUST to reblog this

#video #good #wow

what would you suggest doing with my pet snail's shell after it has died? I don't want to just throw it away, but I don't know what to do with it.

I apologize for answering this so late! I haven’t been on tumblr in a while.All of my first group of snails have passed away now due to old age. They lived long and happy lives, filled with lettuce and the bonds they made with each other. Of course, their individual shells meant a lot to me.What I’m doing is creating a small sculpture of each one to fit the shell onto, and display that in a small case (out of the sun! snail shells can get sun bleached!), to further preserve their memory. Another thing you can do is cast the shell in resin.

nyctosaurid

if you don’t know the difference between a hare and a rabbit you’ve never gazed into the cold wild eyes of a hare and known that if it could speak it would speak backwards

gallusrostromegalus

Jack Rabbits are North American Hares and they’re the WORST to encounter at night becuase:

You all know how big a rabbit is. Jack Rabbits and hares are much bigger. they’re the size of large cats or small dogs or just-walking-age children.

They also like to hang out in gangs of a hlf dozen to over 30.

and in the middle of backcountry dirt roads.

perhaps they’re dustbathing

or blood sacrifce

I don’t know because when you come up the road at night because your dog has a tiny bladder and needs to go out at midnight and you have no yard so you’re walking him on the dirt road around your neighborhod because you might aw well get some stargazing in, and you come just over the ridge to see a coven of twenty jackrabbits in the middle of the road

and

they

all

stand

not just onto all fours like a proper prey animal

No they get up on thier hind legs and don’t just sit but STAND like tiny rabbit-skinned toddlers, wobbing slightly as they stare directly at you eyes shining in your flashlight’s glow

…Blood Red.

And a chill goes through you on that warm july night because while they’re a puntable size and allegedly herbivores they’re standing and watching you just like people and you are vastly outnumbered.

everyone freezes

you’re considering your odds aganst roughly 200lbs of Suspiciously Humanoid Hare

and they’re considering their odds against you

the only sound in the never-ending high desert wind

somewhere in your peripheral vision you can see the streetlights but they seem awfully far away

The nearest Jack Rabbit

Blinks

and takes a single shuffling step

forward

You area an overdevloped monkey and your prefrontal cortex is capable of some amazing feats but it runs very slowly compared to the reflexes of a rabbit and you’re frozen as you desperately scramble for the appropriate course of action, hands feeling thick and useless, mouth dry and feet imeasurably heavy there’s no way you’d outrun THESE, god there’s a rabies outbreak going around that shit’s not curable-

The Dog

L U N G E S

It’s only the briefest of movements but the animal you’d picked out for his gangly legs and floppy ears and goofy smile is suddenly a dark shape of muscle and teeth and had flung himself at the horrible goblin rabbits faster than mere physics should dictate, appearing in the circle of the flashlight for only the briefest of moments before the jolt from the leash makes you stumble and the light falters

The Jack Rabbits

Scatter

Vanishing into the faintly starlit sagebrush in as so many faint gray shapes that might be mistaken for the dustclouds they kick up

Later, you sit on the couch disquieted

and you wonder

If the sight of the Jack Rabbits standing and studying you was frightening enough to make you yearn for the safety of the yellowed streetlights

what must it be like from thier end?

what terrifying creature

deliberately ties itself

to something so horrible

As a Dog?

biomechanical-magitech

@gallusrostromegalus that last bit gave me such a strong mental image I absolutely had to draw it

gallusrostromegalus

WELL HOLY SHIT.

CONGRATULATE, THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I WAS GOING FOR.

is it ok if I print it out and stick it on the fridge?

sandersstudies

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

rebelminds

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

snarling-through-our-smiles

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out. I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing.

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back. “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before. Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed. I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house. I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like? I’ll put it into the group chat.” He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. “Um, it’s just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering. It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder. One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. “Girl! Hey, GIRL!!! We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me. I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old. One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.

gatorfisch

THIS is boys will be boys

suddenlysteven

on a camp with teenage boys recently and as i was one of the camp leaders, it was part of my duties to help wake said boys in the morning (at 6am or a similar ungodly hour).

we (the camp leaders) found the most efficient way to do so was to blast music from a tinny little speaker one of us owned.

so before the sun itself has risen, we’re walking down a corridor with 8+ rooms filled with 6 or more boys in each, blasting the one and only Let It Go from Frozen, hoping to wake a few students, preparing for hateful commentary.

instead, what we got was the thumps and shouts of boys excitedly leaping from bunk beds, stuffing on shirts and bursting into the corridor to scream the lyrics to Let It Go.

every.single.boy.did this.

as soon as the song finished, they acted like it never happened and went back to their rooms to get dressed.

raccoonfootproductions

So…

Squidward has a new running gag where, at least once a season, he gets spat out of something (along with some bones and a can) and is seen dripping and shivering in a Yamcha Death Pose-esque fetal position…

…and for some ungodly reason, I love it.

(enlarge the shots to see what episode they’re from)

#okay oh my god #NOW goodnight

silverhawk

me when i see a hilariously bad video that i want to send to my friend instantly, knowing that its bad enough to make them want to hire a deep web hitman to kill me

canaryinacoolmine

GREAT NEWS EVERYONE!!!

And they call him… they call him

Tiny Husbun

luxiiien

i’ve been watching brave wilderness

fluffygif

ofcourse.16 on ig

#oh honey.......

canadiangold

best thing i learned today: “The Loud American” role in Japanese businesses

canadiangold

nobody asked but imma explain anyway

no idea how it came up, but my programming prof was talking about his friend who works for Nintendo Japan who’s secondary role is The Loud American, and my prof explained what that was and how it came about

see, in Japan you do not talk back to your boss. you just don’t, even if they have stupid ideas and want the company to act on them. Like Nissan did sometime back. But since the other employees couldn’t do anything about this terrible idea that would ruin the company, they called in an American who had no reservations about telling the boss that their stupid idea was a stupid idea

and that’s just become a role in Japanese businesses, where they keep an American on staff who plays up the American stereotype and tells the boss what the Japanese employees can’t or won’t out of societal norms

friendly-neighborhood-ehrhardt

dream job.

loafed-beans-deactivated2020082

How much do they pay per hour for me to sit around and every so often storm into the bosses office and call his ideas stupid as fuck?

aviculor

modern day court jester

neilsanders

super confident body language while maintaining a shy head lilt

stevie-doodle

I love them.

thenatsdorf

Baby harp seal tries to roll over and mopes when he can’t do it. (wait till end of audio!)

fnafqueerz-deactivated20220529

@leopardsealz

pak-deactivated20190212

puyopuyo

cannibalchicken

laurapalmersgoldenland

it doesnt make sense tho

navy blue was literally named for its use in the BRITISH ROYAL NAVY in the mid-1700’s

maroon is literally an evolution of french marron, meaning chestnut. its a brownish red. like a chestnut.

like, the kids making these memes need to take a fucking elective that isnt a sport. do teenage boys still think that “art is for fags” or something? learn colors, you sound stupid!!!!

violetkirjava-deactivated202502

This is like hilarious but also stop being pretentious, it’s a perfectly fair comparison to make. Navy blue = a darker and more desaturated blue and maroon = a darker and more desaturated red. The modifier “navy” is so disconnected enough from its roots that it makes sense for it to assume a new contextual meaning. Sure, the name comes from the British navy using it, but what we’re talking about is how it modifies a color.

laurapalmersgoldenland

i do not care how pretentious i sound, this joke is picking the lowest-hanging fruit ive ever seen. its LAZY.

it comes across as “haha look at this funny r/showerthoughts post i saw!!! so relatable, am i right fellow non-artists?”

its a low effort joke aimed at people who could not be paid to give a shit about trying any artistic medium, but lose their mind over a notebook sketch someone does in 15 minutes and scream “I WISH I COULD DRAW LIKE YOU” as if it doesnt take years of practice; like the artist was born with an “artistic gene” or some bullshit

all i ask is that people try just a little bit more to not sound dumb when theyre trying to be funny

space-cops

wonderweird

This guy thinks it’s an insult to artists where as I’m pretty sure a sizable amount of the notes on this post are artists saying ‘’YEAH THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE!! NAVY RED!!’’