RMH

ellievsbear

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
almost home

oozey mess
🪼
One Nice Bug Per Day

#extradirty
wallacepolsom
Misplaced Lens Cap
Xuebing Du
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taylor price
todays bird
h
$LAYYYTER
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Product Placement

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@sarallis
Get rid of your fucking Ring cameras holy shit. That was one of the most chilling ads I’ve ever seen
😰😰😰😰😰
People: Ring is using their cameras to spy on people
Other people: You're being dramatic
Ring: No, we're definitely doing that, which is why it's in our ads
The default is on. Turn off as above.
Who else moans when they eat the subway cookie
Perhaps the better question would be to ask who doesn't!
Does anybody know if you ever stop being 11 years old and lonely
Like you can stop being 11 years old & you can stop being lonely but it seems being a lonely 11 year old might be a lifelong affliction
It does end. I swear.
Barbara Anna Kistler (November 21 1955 - January 1993) was a Swiss revolutionary and member of The Communist Party of Türkiye/Marxist–Leninist (TKP/ML)
Born in Zürich, Switzerland. In her youth she was a member of the Group Against Isolation (KGI), which sought to establish a Communist Party in the country. In the mid 1980s she met Turkish Communists who had escaped the 1980 Turkish coup d'état.
In May 1991 she would be arrested in Istanbul, she was held incommunicado for a ten day period, during which she was tortured. She would be returned to Switzerland in September, however Kistler soon traveled to the Dersim/Tunceli Province of Türkiye, where she became a combatant for the Workers' and Peasants' Liberation Army of Türkiye (TIKKO) the armed wing of TKP/ML.
In the guerrilla struggle Kistler would help train foreign volunteers and do her utmost to assist the cause in anyway possible. In January 1993, she would be injured after a confrontation with the Turkish military and succumb in the harsh winter conditions.
Although somewhat obscure, Barbara Kistler remains an exemplary representation of Proletarian Internationalism. Her courage and dedication to the cause of the oppressed and poor should instill inspiration to revolutionaries worldwide.
Get inside faggots
i love it when italians argue about italian. like we don’t even know how our language really works we just roll with it
Italian is 107 different provincial languages stuck together with spit and half a prayer
My bf lives in another region and we are constantly arguing about regional variations of words and we both live in the fucking north of Italy
one time i saw a map of italy but instead of cities and roads etc it was just covered w different ways you can say the word vagina. it was covered
oh I can think of at least seven ways to say the word vagina right off the top of my head rn. I can’t imagine what I could do if I tried harder
Fjgkahfmangksoajufnajejgnanfjakirjvjjs
this is the Italian Vagina Map, reblog to… I’m not sure actually. Can’t hurt though.
I'm sorry your parents named you Philip ☹ I could name you something better
Joaquin Phoenix in 'To Die For' (dir. by Gus Van Sant) [1995]
Trying out a new hobby called playing with fire. And it’s completely safe
No more sleeping with my phone within reach because I was having an extremely vivid dream that I was the victim of some sort of mass-poisoning. the notorious poisoner? "The Centipede Cult." They used a specific type of poison, referred to only by its chemical nomenclature, which I somehow remembered perfectly upon waking. It went: □□ Na({}^{2})
Because that makes sense. Anyway, this poison would submit me to its well-known and much-feared symptom: "17 Day Paralysis" in which you're paralyzed for exactly 17 days and you only chance of survival is to be on full machine support for 17 days.
Just before the medical team intubated me I remembered I have a Zoom meeting with my academic advisor today (I actually do in real life) and I needed to email him to let him know I was the victim of a mass-poisoning and would need to reschedule.
I kept trying to type the "□" symbol in my dream but could not figure out how and gave up.
I woke up in real life to find I'd begun drafting an email in my sleep to my professor in the Gmail app. I was apparently using talk-to-text (I often do because of my hand neuropathy) but speaking in Irish, which talk-to-text never understands, so other than the words in English "poison" and "centipede" the entire email was complete nonsense.
I told my advisor about this and he said, "well, if you had been poisoned, I would have provided you whatever academic supports available to us."
Bc so many people have asked, the □ in the dream was in fact just a wingdings square symbol. Your phone/browser isn't blocking an emoji. You're seeing it right.
I'm imagining a world where RPGMaker somehow made it as the de facto codebase for software and you have to navigate your banking app by walking around in a huge room full of NPCs named "make deposit" and "make withdrawal" etc and there's loud as fuck stock music playing
Can you describe your dick for us? 🤤
Louder than Gods revolver and twice as shiny