blake kathryn
Product Placement
RMH
roma★
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.
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shark vs the universe
wallacepolsom
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
PR's Tumblrdome
AnasAbdin
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
we're not kids anymore.
JVL
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
NASA
Discoholic 🪩
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@rockinlama
Don’t drink, don’t smoke. It’s bad for you.
Yes, I understand. I smoke like a freight train and have been drinking for too long.
I don’t need criticism, in fact, that makes it worse #taurus
“$230 to give out cigarettes”
I know what I’m like without nicotine, and I don’t wish that on anyone
I’d rather give a cigarette than have a negative attitude
Breaks are always readily available, tell me what you need
One, ten minute break every 8 hours? Lol okay
We’ll, I’m back. I haven’t been on Tumblr in almost a decade, but I’m feeling a deep urge to write, and I feel as if Tumblr is one of the best forms to do that. So much has happened in the past couple of years, and eventually, maybe, I’ll touch up on that, but I need an outlet for my writing, so I’m looking forward to beginning that journey. Just to begin, I plan on using this platform for anything and everyone, (much like everyone else) from work to home to cooking, this is where it will be. Thank if you read this, and I look forward to the future.
me being productive
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta call me your homemade-mashed-potatoes-biscuits-and-gravy I’m sorry those are the rules
Animal Intelligence
Ever notice how they keep moving the goalposts when it comes to animal intelligence vs. human intelligence?
“Humans are completely unique. No other animal uses tools.”
“Actually, wild sea otters have been observed using rocks to open shellfish.”
“Okay, but that’s not true intelligence. They just pick the rocks up; they don’t alter them in any way.”
“Chimps peel the leaves from sticks to make more effective termite probes.”
“Well, that’s just technology. Only humans have art.”
“What about painting elephants? Art critics often can’t tell the difference between their work and a human’s.”
“Okay fine. But only humans have language. That’s the mark of true intelligence.”
“These African Grey Parrots use hundreds of words correctly and even ask original questions.”
“Oh yeah? Well, does any non-human species demonstrate self-awareness?”
“Dolphins pass the mirror test without training.”
“Pfft. How about problem-solving?”
“I can’t keep squirrels out of my bird feeder no matter what I do.”
“Aha! Bet you can’t think of a species that possesses all these traits! Only humans! We’re No. 1! We’re No. 1!”
“Crows.”
“LALALALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOOOOUUUUUUUUU…”
10 Tyson Tweets
the fucking last one
Y’all are so excited about the new planetary discovery but I haven’t seen y’all share the Google doodle!
It’s so fucking adorable!
Sometimes the customer is wrong for unrelated reasons.
Due to the well of my friends’ “def not an axe murderer” date recommendations drying up, I have turned to that most sacred of modern relationship institutions: online dating. As a very busy person trying to get it in with other very busy people, I prize honestly and directness above all else when it comes to profile creation. I include full body shots in my photos, try to minimize the use of MySpace angles in selfies, and write at the very top of the summary/caption/profile that I am fat. Not “curvy,” not “thick,” not “lots to love”–I’m f*cking fat. I’m not ashamed of it, but I also known that weight is a dealbreaker for lots of people. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.
About a year ago I met “Evan” via Tinder. We exchanged friendly messages for a few hours one night and agreed to meet up for drinks the following evening. I waited for a full hour past the designated time, and just as I was getting up to leave, the texts started rolling in.
“I can see you sweating from here.” “How long does it take you to roll out of bed every morning?” “Is there an earthquake or are you just getting up for more pretzels?”
Really idiotic, juvenile shit. Four separate numbers, commenting on things like my clothes, which clued me in that the senders were nearby. This went on for 15 minutes before I finally saw Evan, trying to hide in at a corner table and giggling with a group of buddies. I made eye contact, saw that he saw me, and then walked out. The texts kept up until I blocked the numbers a few hours later.
I ran into Evan about 3 weeks later. We got on the same elevator, and he tried really hard at being super interested in the emergency phone instructions. I just confronted him, and he admitted it was just some “game” that him and his friends play. He knew I was fat before agreeing to meet up; they all did, because that’s what they do. Match up with fat women, then either ghost them or “troll” them at the meet-up. It was also kinda obvious he’d never seen any consequences from this bullshit, as he was sweating pretty hard and looked more humiliated than I felt. I just said whatever and walked out, expecting to never see him again.
About a month ago, some local foodie wrote a great review of the restaurant I own, and we’ve been slammed ever since. In the past, I stayed mostly in the kitchen, but I’ve been doing more and more front-of-house stuff lately, and Valentine’s Day I was working a bit of a split between the two.
I saw Evan just as he was pushing in his date’s chair. My name isn’t on the restaurant, and he didn’t see me. I checked the section up at the hostess stand and saw that one of my favorite old-timers, Nan, was going to be his waitress. I went to the bar till, took out $400, put it in her hands, and said, “This is going to be your only table for the rest of the night. You are going to make this the worst date he has ever been on.”
She spilled every single thing she brought out to the table, all over him. I was waiting for him to blow up on Nan, but he bottled it up, obviously trying to make a good impression on his date. She seemed like a perfectly lovely lady; I told Nan to make sure everything was good for her and terrible for Evan.
She poured ice water on his d*ck. She smacked the back of his head with the edge of a tray. Spilled soup on his shirt. Dropped every fork he asked for. I personally oversalted his food, used the shit liquor for his drinks, used flour instead of sugar on his dessert. To be honest, I don’t know why he didn’t just walk out. He must have really wanted to f*ck this woman.
Finally, he cracked. Demanded Nan find the manager and bring her out. I was only too happy to emerge from the kitchen with my chef’s coat and say what, I’m not ashamed to admit, I’d been planning out all night.
“I would have said hi earlier, but I didn’t want the earthquake to disturb your dinner.”
I will savor the look on Evan’s face for the rest of my life.
He was a little too flummoxed to explain, so I pulled a chair up to the table and introduced myself to his date, Amanda. Told her how I met Evan. Showed her some fun old messages. Then I told gave her a voucher for a free meal on her next visit and told Evan to get the f*ck out and never come back.
He deleted his Tinder profile.
I’m not your average skateboarder. I don’t “dress like a stoner.” I don’t “know how to skateboard.” I don’t “disrespect authority.” I’ve never “been on a skateboard.”
sssh.....theyre sharing a tender moment
:v) :^)
Why does one have a way larger nose?
That’s just how some people are
brian sella sucked my dick in an arbys bathroom and paid me in front bottoms demos to keep quiet
have a very front bottoms valentines day, everyone (these arent very original i know)
c dog ❤
Pre-T, I could mimic my cats’ meows perfectly.
Post-T, my voice dropped approximately a fuck-ton (metric) and I can no longer do that. Lil'y has responded by making her own meows as gravely as possible, so I can meow at her again.
So if there are any other guys or non-binaries out there who are worried that their pets won’t recognize them after they start hormone-therapy or something similar, don’t worry. Your pets will love you. They already know who you are.
I am dead of the cute
IM DEAD THIS IS SO CUTE
This actually was a concern of mine
Zarathustra the cat with his life size portrait by Claude Monet
