You’re not depressed. You just need $250,000 in your bank account.
Reblog to materialize $250,000 in prev's bank account

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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@soledadestefan
You’re not depressed. You just need $250,000 in your bank account.
Reblog to materialize $250,000 in prev's bank account
apologies to anyone who ever thought i was cool and reached out to me only to discover i am just a weird little hermit who can't carry on a conversation to save my life
倘若海风曾吹过你的头发。😢😢
Volvo
so, they didn't want players killing kids in the new lego star wars, so they made them immune to friendly fire damage, but they didn't make them invincible, so now speedrunners are doing extended air combos on them to cross large gaps and climb tall structures. this has been dubbed Child Flight
tragedy enjoyers when their favourite characters are brutally killed in a completely avoidable scenario of their own creation
I can’t believe I tried to scroll past this without reblog gong
do not scroll past without reblogging
Jimmy Fallon Asked for Beach Fails and the Internet Delivered
My man was really gonna let a fucking BEAR into his house for the views and the BEAR had to be the sensible one here
it’s ninety-nine degrees outside, four fuck-thousand percent humidity, and my husband was like, “i’m gonna go for a bike ride.” and i was like “why. no. why. don’t put us on the news like that. local fool collapses on unnecessary journey. don’t do it.” so he says he doesn’t want to “hide in the house” because the sun is shining. bruh. honeybruh. “the sun is shining” does not cover it. its hot outside. its motherfucking hot as fuck outside. our outdoor plants have been crying into their hands all week. whole cars are melting into the sewer. our fucking patio umbrella developed sentience to ask me for lemonade this morning
@robotmango, you need to work for the weather forecast - this was both hilarious and so vivid it made me stand up and get some iced tea.
this is a great idea, thank you. here goes. my audition tape for the weather channel. dearly beloved. we are gathered here today to have a fucking funeral for the outdoors. it had a good run, with all its creeks and clouds and shit. pretty great. now it’s ten-thirty at night but still ninety-two asshole-sweating degrees and humid as fuck. everything is hot and slimy, like being a “borrower” that got trapped inside a bottle of shampoo and then accidentally microwaved. you can see on my doppler radar that nothing is moving around out there because everything is probably dead. the only alive thing is the mosquito currently trying to drill a hole in my leg. no surprise that all the shitbag mosquitos are fine, since the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature. this forecast has gotten away from me a little, but in conclusion fuck the sun
I think I’ve reblogged this before, but “the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature” is fucking poetry
ninety nine???? thats IT????????? buddy here in the 7th circle of h*ck, California, we get up to at LEAST 110 degrees every single gosh darned summer. the bugs seek revenge. the sun wreaks havoc on the mere mortals it surveys. every plant has turned brown in its thirst for water. the very air itself has been sucked dry of every drip of moisture it ever had.
ninety nine degrees. you weak fool.
well since you asked so politely, let’s talk about something very important vis a vis weather-hotness that you clearly ain’t ever heard of, called
humidity
oh alas, you say. oh papa, whatever shall i do, it is ever so hotte and drye in california. the very air hath been sucked of all its moisturey droplets and whatnot.* one hundredy and tennith desiccated degrees!
*(yo, drought is serious. i am pretty obviously not making fun of that.)
alright. let’s check it out. here’s a random california city, right about now:
thirty-two percent. and here’s a random mid-atlantic city located somewhere in the wet fleshy crease behind a demon’s knee*:
*(confession: i do not live in dc, but several years ago i spent three weeks steaming like a tinned ham in arlington in august. none of the pants i took with me could ever keep a crease again.)
huh! funny thing! “see, dc’s actually seven degrees COOLER,” you say, because you’ve obviously never gone outside and taken a deep lungful of wet sock trash air in your life. and now for added bliss, here’s what early wednesday morning’s gonna be like for these poor clowns:
that’s right! eighty-two percent humidity! the point at which showers no longer matter, because you’re all caught in God’s grease trap! just stressed human eels miserably slip slidin’ their way through a damp melty bathwater-flavored hellscape that feels like it’s actively sous viding their top layer of skin! a hundred thousand people packed into public transit breathing air that feels like deepthroating swamp thing! and you wanna talk to me about fuckin california!
[cue science voice]: human bodies cool through evaporation, a process by which the body sweats and sweet invisible angels towel us off, whisking away our unwanted moisture into the air and literally chilling us out. (it’s also why air conditioned air feels so fucking deliciously refreshing: it’s not just being cooled, it’s being conditioned, aka, dehumidified. it’s cool dry air.) but. if the air is already made out of fucking chowder and can’t absorb shit then guess what the fuck our bodies can’t do.
so is this weak fool gonna remain indoors and hydrated through this only medium-hot but fuckoff-humid season? you bet your dried out ass.
This is poetry.
Here’s a handy calculator that tells you how hot a place “feels” depending on the level of humidity:
https://www.calculator.net/heat-index-calculator.html
World Heritage Post
Shoebill stork are normally silent, but they sometimes perform bill-clattering displays by clapping the upper & lower jaws, producing a loud hollow sound like a machine gun.🔊 ︻╦╤─…………
Sound on!
Wait, no I changed my mind. SOUND OFF! SOUND OFF!!!
This is what happens when you let Dr Seuss work at Jurassic Park!
This is what happens
when you let Dr Seuss work
at Jurassic Park!
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
Love this sentiment.