jockgrim: do you even reap, bro??
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sheepfilms

titsay

shark vs the universe

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@theartofmadeline
styofa doing anything
Xuebing Du
trying on a metaphor
dirt enthusiast
YOU ARE THE REASON

roma★

blake kathryn
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
we're not kids anymore.
Stranger Things
h
Three Goblin Art

★

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@onlysigns
jockgrim: do you even reap, bro??
sexey-les-bois is where ao3 authors send characters when they need them trapped together in a suspiciously romantic manor
one wrong angle and suddenly.. it's average
parking here is a tight squeeze
When I visited a lovely little town in the Moors but unfortunately have all the maturity of a mild cheese.
Rule Buttania.
(coat is The Evil Queen coat by Dracula's Clothing if anybody wants to know. It's so waaaarm)
the artifacts have been reunited. something ancient and deeply embarrassing has been summoned and it keeps insisting only one can inherit the title of supreme buttania sovereign.
so UNFORTUNATELY we now have to become enemies for the sake of lore
the air here smells like setup with no payoff
suddenly it's a fire drill AND a techno concert
welcome to sexey-aux-forges, where things get heated long before the forge cools down.
blacksmiths work tirelessly at the anvil, striking with rhythm, precision, and an enthusiasm that can be heard clear across the village. sparks fly in every direction. sometimes from the anvil, sometimes from a lingering glance across it.
visitors may observe skilled craftsmen demonstrating superior grip strength and remarkable stamina. the pounding is steady, the heat is intense, and satisfaction is practically guaranteed. protective gear is recommended, though not always worn for long.
but the blacksmith's hammer isn't the only thing swinging after sunset. as evening falls, the tavern fills with knights eager to unsheathe their blades and compare… technique. lances are lowered with care. armor is loosened gradually. no one rushes a good forging.
here, they believe in working the metal until it yields. and in staying until the job is properly finished.
come for the craftsmanship. stay for the afterglow
directions to void? just keep going til nothing matters
looking for something off the beaten path? here's your perfect destination. because the back roads here are the most scenic, and getting in is half the fun. nestled between two gentle hills, this snug little hideaway offers warmth, charm, and just the right amount of give. it's the kind of place that doesn't scream for attention. it invites you in slowly. whether you slip in for the weekend or stay in deep for the full experience, you'll find yourself delightfully stretched between comfort and curiosity
one-way and looks narrow on the map, but somehow everyone gets in
i was flirting with a girl recently and i told her i "wanna take her to plapsburg" as a way to indicate i wanted to have sex and she just looked at me with this expression of like complete and total pity and i dont think ive ever felt more humiliated in my life
sorry @swagophile i didn't realize you two were talking. that's just cos i already took her to
population: your ex
MUNICIPAL COURT TRANSCRIPT Case: State vs. Mr Pun Intended
BAILIFF: All rise. The Honorable Judge Mildred Stonewall is presiding the Court. JUDGE: Be seated. Clerk, what fresh nonsense are we dealing with today? CLERK: The defendant stands accused of §2.69 Aggravated Pun-ditry, §3.67 Serial Pun-dering, §4.20 Interstate Transport of Dad Jokes, and §6.66 Possession of a Loaded Pun. PROSECUTOR: Your Honor, the defendant has engaged in a pattern of making statements intended to provoke humor at the expense of local residents. Officers report multiple witnesses experiencing immediate distress, verbal groaning, and disruption of public peace. DEFENSE ATTORNEY: Your Honor, the defendant is a traveler with a fascination for linguistically interesting town names. The jokes were impulsive and harmless, and only intended to be observational rather than disruptive. JUDGE: Impulsive or not, the court will not excuse behavior that systematically targets public spaces for premeditated amusement. PROSECUTOR: Your Honor, the State submits Exhibit C, the defendant's travel history. JUDGE: …Why is it labeled "The Tour" PROSECUTOR: Because, Your Honor, the defendant has been traveling across Europe deliberately visiting towns with names they considered suggestive and "material". We have evidence the defendant previously stopped in: * Horní Police * Villemoron * Püssi * Bitche …and made jokes in every single one. JUDGE: Sickening. DEFENDANT: in my defense, the material writes itself! PROSECUTOR: We also recovered a notebook containing 37 unregistered puns. JUDGE: Were they… loaded? PROSECUTOR: Fully loaded, Your Honor. (gasps from jury) DEFENSE ATTORNEY: Your Honor, my client is merely a tourist who enjoys wordplay. JUDGE: Nobody "accidentally" visits hundreds of suspiciously named towns. The court finds the scope, intent, and systematic nature of this reckless humor highly aggravating. Defendant, do you have anything to say before sentencing? DEFENSE ATTORNEY: Please remain silent. DEFENDANT: just one thing, your honor. (entire gallery visibly pained) DEFENDANT: i guess traveling to effincourt finally landed me in— (the courtroom collectively whispers "don't say it") DEFENDANT: —the effin' court. (chaos erupts)
where there's a will there's a way
from the @onlysigns archives:
this 21st century text-based installation employs repetition and typographic emphasis to interrogate society's relationship with waste while maintaining an unflinching gaze on BUTTS. it confronts the viewer with the ubiquity of BUTTS, insisting that no glance, no thought, and no act of waste be free from the moral gravity of BUTTS. visitors are compelled to consider the ethical implications of BUTTS, the environmental consequences of discarded BUTTS, and the profound shame inherent in ignoring BUTTS. the artist's relentless fixation on BUTTS elevates a mundane directive to a near-ritualistic examination of human behavior. each mention of BUTTS functions as both instruction and moral critique, compelling the viewer to reflect on BUTTS, waste, guilt, and the quiet desperation of civic authority. ultimately, this work posits that civilization itself may hinge upon the conscientious management of BUTTS, and that to confront this piece is to confront the fraught ethics of one's own posterior.
dunno what this place is famous for but I'm sure safe search is involved
well. damschied