oh well i guess ill just be fat and hot
guess ill be fat and hot and hot
taylor price
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

JVL
todays bird

Janaina Medeiros

shark vs the universe
h
trying on a metaphor
Monterey Bay Aquarium

JBB: An Artblog!
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
$LAYYYTER
Stranger Things

No title available

tannertan36
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

#extradirty
d e v o n
Mike Driver
seen from Russia

seen from South Korea
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seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
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seen from Costa Rica
seen from Portugal

seen from United States

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@nandineed
oh well i guess ill just be fat and hot
guess ill be fat and hot and hot
It's nice that loud noises don't stick to clothes like smells do. That would be really bad if they did.
Yeah, this is one of the most horrifying "what ifs" I've heard in a long time.
A rack of secondhand baby onesies would be so horrendously screamy :(
Construction worker's clothes would be awful, and the safety vests of the people who wave those paddles around on airport runways would be even worse, and I'd have to have some way of getting the alarm clock out of my nightgowns so I could get to sleep.
oh I know how to make a poll's results look like the letter E watch this
what is the rightmost digit of the number of responses this poll has right now? (it should be visible before you vote.)
0, 1, or 2
3
4 or 5
6
7, 8, or 9
you know what? fuck it, man. the world is held in the fists of people who like to break things. at this point i’m saying who gives a shit. wear that victorian dress you don’t have an excuse for. dress up like a witch, pointed hat and all. who cares anymore. why worry about it when there’s bigger stuff to worry on. i’m saying. yeah, this lipstick is too dark, wanna share? i’m saying go talk to her, tell her that you like her hair. i’m saying she’s out of my league but i’m still swinging, i’m saying yeah i’m in a ballgown and it’s a pta meeting. what about it. eat the extra brownie, tell her your feelings. i’m saying if nothing matters than we might as well give nothing meaning.
#i’m saying if existence is a void at least i’m going down screaming.
it’s been 9 years since i wrote this. i was experiencing 24/7 anxiety so badly that i needed serious medication. these days in the back of my car is an “emergency party box.” when people admit they no longer really celebrate their birthday; i tell them to put the sash on and queue up kesha, we’re going bowling or something. these days i can’t spin around without finding something i am enamored with. these days i list 3 things i’m grateful for before i fall asleep. you’re probably one of them, just by virtue of you existing.
at the time i wrote this, i was suffering through a severe panic attack literally every night. i tortured my brother with constant 2 AM calls just to hear someone else breathing, because i couldn’t be alone in the silence.
i rarely wish i was still 23 even though ironically i had more hope back then. what i can tell you is this: i love the same way, but bigger now. i’ve worn the velvet cape to several business meetings. i spent thursday in a crop top without caring what my stomach looked like.
i told her i like her; i often dress as a witch. i still got glass in my foot this morning. i’ve kissed maybe a thousand people since then and met a million more than that; passing like the shadow of a hammerhead in trains and planes and buses.
i saw you, beloved, there, maybe, on platform in south station. you didn’t speak, but you said: i struggle to give the nothing meaning. the nothing fills up everything. it is just loud and yellowed panicked silence. i can’t stop shaking.
on the roof, birds curl together against the chilled spring wind. the sky outside of the craft store was an iridescent pink. the nothing already had meaning; you are giving it meaning by witnessing.
the act of living, beloved: it’s just decoding how to translate it.
the thing I love most about how tumblr users use tags is that it’s like what if a social media website had a footnotes system
A Word on Statistics
by Wisława Szymborska tr. Joanna Trzeciak
Out of every hundred people
those who always know better: fifty-two.
Unsure of every step: almost all the rest.
Ready to help, if it doesn't take long: forty-nine.
Always good, because they cannot be otherwise: four — well, maybe five.
Able to admire without envy: eighteen.
Led to error by youth (which passes): sixty, plus or minus.
Those not to be messed with: forty and four.
Living in constant fear of someone or something: seventy-seven.
Capable of happiness: twenty-some-odd at most.
Harmless alone, turning savage in crowds: more than half, for sure.
Cruel when forced by circumstances: it's better not to know, not even approximately.
Wise in hindsight: not many more than wise in foresight.
Getting nothing out of life except things: thirty (though I would like to be wrong).
Doubled over in pain and without a flashlight in the dark: eighty-three, sooner or later.
Those who are just: quite a few at thirty-five.
But if it takes effort to understand: three.
Worthy of empathy: ninety-nine.
Mortal: one hundred out of one hundred — a figure that has never varied yet.
quotes taken from the source
(the 4th one is Bumpus wanting dinner, friends can back me up on this)
come back to me most perfect of comics
"You have improved," the swordmaster said.
"Thanks to my new sword," said the student.
The swordmaster studied the blade and frowned. "This is enchanted?"
"You know about cursed swords that whisper that you should kill?"
"Yes?"
"This tells me I'm loved and valid."
"Ah. Well. It's not wrong."
i don’t feel like debating that topic much farther bc truthfully if it comes down to “women will lose to men in every sport bc they don’t have as much testosterone!!!!!” my elite feminist response is honest to god “ok we will lose with honor as equals instead of having our own special Easy Mode Female category so we can win amongst ourselves” like i’m sorry i just can’t be persuaded. i’m a brick wall. i want co-ed sports
i bring a sort of “women can lose at some sports against men if it means being regarded as equals” vibe to the debate that “testosterone objectively increases performance” people don’t really like
Consider this (based on a conversation I had with some friends a while ago): Pride and Prejudice and Zombies for people who actually like Pride and Prejudice. Look–I tried to read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and I got about 20 pages in before I came to the conclusion that the person who wrote it did so out of the belief that the original Pride and Prejudice was stuffy and boring. There were out of character vulgar puns. And the trailer for the movie did not convince me that I had missed anything by cutting short my reading experience. So, what I’m talking about here is this premise: the world of Pride and Prejudice, but if you die, it’s highly likely, almost certain that your corpse will get up and try to eat people. But no one dies in Pride and Prejudice, you might say. In fact, few or no people die in any Jane Austen novel. This is true. But people do get sick with some regularity. Imagine the tension added to Jane getting sick after going to visit Bingley if there was the chance that she would become a zombie after she died. Becoming a zombie in an eligible bachelor’s house probably would have seriously wrecked any chances of any of the living sisters ending up with him. Imagine Mr. Collins, as a minister, having the duty upon someone’s death of severing their head with a ceremonial plate or something that would prevent the corpse from rising. Obviously important, but this only makes him more self-important and obnoxious. And dangerous. For you see, in this version, Mr. Bennett, who stays in his office all the time, whose life is the only thing allowing Mrs. Bennett and her daughters to stay in the house–Mr. Bennett is definitely a zombie. He died at home, and Mrs. Bennett decided that, no way were they dealing with this, and so…just started faking it. Jane and Elizabeth know. The younger sisters don’t. In this universe, I think we have to go with zombies that are not any faster or stronger than the humans they were, and in fact tend to get weaker as time passes because their flesh is rotting. And…hmm, okay, how about they are pretty violent upon rising, and for about a week afterward, trying to bite people and spread the infection (even though most people are carriers anyway, but getting a nasty bite from a corpse will give you other stuff that will have you die while carrying the virus). But then they calm down and basically just start sort of attempting to act like they did in life, that is, taking habitual actions with no consciousness, in a depressing and desiccated way. So Mr. Bennett is a zombie, and Mrs. Bennett’s number one goal is to get her daughters married before anyone finds that out. And this, actually, makes Elizabeth’s refusal of Mr. Collins more frustrating for Mrs. Bennett–obviously Mr. Bennett didn’t tell Elizabeth that she could refuse Mr. Collins, because Mr. Bennett is dead, but Mrs. Bennett can’t say anything or the game would be up. Another question in this version–does Mr. Darcy find out about Mr. Bennett being a zombie somehow? Does Elizabeth find out that he knows and didn’t say anything and this is something that helps repair his earlier actions? Anyway, this is the Pride and Prejudice and Zombies that I was looking for.
Okay also: in the original, when Elizabeth walks through the rain all the way to bingley’s to care for Jane while she’s sick, it’s a very dramatic expression of both Elizabeth’s love for her sister and her penchant for flamboyant rebellion, but consider, if there is a chance Jane will wake up a zombie and Elizabeth knows it, how does that change the dynamic? Elizabeth might be going to help take care of Jane, or to *take care* of Jane should things take a more morbid turn…by killing her zombie sister.
This works especially well if zombieism is communicable prior to death; if mr. Bennett is a zombie and only the elder Bennetts know, that means Jane has been pre-exposed and is almost certain to wake up as a zombie should she die in the Bingleys’ care— which the Bingleys do not know. Elizabeth has to forge through the rain to be there in case things get ugly, because she knows that the Bingleys aren’t prepared.
And I think you pretty much HAVE to make Mr. Bennett’s zombie status play a role in how and why Darcy separates Bingley from Jane—the heavy implication behind Darcy’s line about the want of propriety shown even by her father hits Elizabeth like a ton of bricks as she realizes he knows—he knows, and he thought Jane lying to Bingley about it was evidence that Jane didn’t love Bingley—but—but Darcy must not have told Bingley that part of it. Bingley couldn’t keep a secret on his life; if he knew, his sister would know, and word would already be out and they’d have been ruined by now—
And of course, not only does the fact that Darcy, who owes their family nothing, has kept and continues to keep this secret for them even after Elizabeth’s refusal deepen the gratitude she begins to feel for him after the letter of explanation, but it also liberates Elizabeth to fall in love with him. Because Elizabeth-who-wants-to-marry-for-love would never be happy marrying someone who didn’t know the family secret in advance. She had resigned herself to spinsterhood because she couldn’t be satisfied with having to hoodwink someone to have their hand, but also couldn’t put her family at risk by trusting someone who wasn’t bound to them by more than an engagement. (Maybe she was even tempted to confide in Wickham at one point, and hasn’t Darcy’s letter proven she was absolutely right not to yield to that passing thought.) But Darcy figured it out himself, and he’s kept her trust, and she could fall in love with him without guilt—if she hadn’t already turned him down.
AND THEN LYDIA HAPPENS. And Darcy realizes immediately that Mr. Bennett can’t do anything to recover her—and if Mr. Bennett doesn’t do anything about Lydia, Mr. Collins might become suspicious, or even just officously involve himself, so find out the while thing. When Darcy blames himself for not revealing Wickham’s character, it’s with a much more immediate sense of urgency. It’s not that the other sisters’ marriage prospects being ruined may impoverish them down the road—it might immediately drag them all into destitution. That’s why he rushes off to go look for Lydia himself.
I haven't seen enough posts appreciating eva stratts wardrobe. thank you phm costuming department for looking at the woman who is kept functional by coffee and sheer force of will and who has the weight of the world quite literally resting on her shoulders and deciding that she shouldn't be dealing with women's formal wear on top of all that.
why is this post completely broken in every way imaginable
Broken notes… deactivated account… removed image….
Finally, we have them all.
In addition: OP’s name is just… gone. No “[insert username]-deactivated[insert a bunch of numbers]” as is the standard for deactivated blogs.
Just the world “deactivated.” Look upon their post, ye mighty, and despair.
It’ll be almost impossible to find this post unless it wanders across your dash.
It wandered across mine. I shall help it travel forward.
this is not a place of honor
Oh hey post of Ozymandius, good to see you again standing on your feet in a desert where no one remembers you
Finished housewarming gift by Hollow_peanut
Certified Anti-Microsoft post
everyone say thank you ancient central and south american agricultural heroes for beans
everyone say thank you ancient south american agricultural heroes for potato
everyone say thank you ancient mesoamerican agricultural heroes for maize
everyone say thank you to ancient central american agricultural heroes for chili peppers
everyone say thank you to ancient south american agricultural heroes for tomatoes
I took my little brother (autistic, mostly non verbal) out and he was using his voice keyboard to tell me something, and this little boy (maybe 4 or 5?) heard him and asked me "Is he a robot??" I tried to explain to him that no, he isn't a robot, he just communicates differently, but my darling brother was in the background max volume "I am robot I am robot I am robot I am robot"
My little brother insisted if I was going to post about him, he wanted a cut of the "profits". When I explained to him that Tumblr isn't monetized, and is pretty pointless, he and my older brother pointed out that he'd still be bringing me "fame and notoriety" if the post got "big". So we agreed, if the post hit 10k notes, which seemed extremely farfetched and silly at the time, I'd take my little brother out for sushi (his favorite food) and let him eat as much as he wants.
I guess God wanted the little robot to enjoy some sushi 🍣 🥲
My sibling is learning embroidery and made this for me.
Truth! Justice! Freedom! Reasonably Priced Love! And a Hard-Boiled Egg!
The Glorious 25th of May!