A Dull Sharpie

I needed a place for randoms thoughts that popped into my head space.

[sparklejamesysparkle]

Natalie Wood cuddles with her dog at her home on the corner of N. Canon Drive and Carmelita Ave. in Beverly Hills, California, photos by Stephen Lovejoy, November 2nd, 1979.

Remembering Natalie... Born Natalie Zacharenko on July 20th, 1938 in San Francisco, California Died on November 29th, 1981 (age 43) off the coast of Catalina Island, California ❤

[nataliawoods]

[20thcenturystarlet]

New York City ballet production of Midsummer Nights Dream

[thepeelingrenoir]

The fact this isn't a painting is a testament to one of the greatest feats of set design and production I've ever seen.

[thepeelingrenoir]

My god just look at this! The lighting, set design, photography... I've just never seen anything like it.

[sisaloofafump]

This is from 1966 and you can see over a hundred photos on the NYPL digital collections website. It is absolutely gorgeous. These are just a few of my favourites.

Plus Puck's face here:

[goatmilksoda]

A question I get asked a lot while working at a public library is "how do you deal with homeless people?"

And the answer is, we don't.

The unhoused people who come here seeking refuge 99% of the time understand that they will be kicked out if they misbehave.

The people you have to watch out for are Jessica, who only came because the kid she didn't want had to visit for a homework assignment and she just *needs* to yell at her child for asking to borrow two books or stay an extra five minutes, or Michael, who came in to look at porn on our computers for whatever fucking reason, or Karen who just wanted to come by to throw a fit that the particular book she wanted was checked out and harrass our staff about our collection being too limited.

99% of the time, the people we need to ban are middle to upper-middle class white people while the homeless and mentally ill/disabled people mind their own damn business and are honestly some of the best patrons we have.

[goatmilksoda]

I bring this up because today we had a man come in. He stopped at the desk, pulled up a chair and said "I'm newly homeless and was living in my car. I'm disabled. It was impounded. It's raining. I don't have a phone and I don't know where to go tonight."

And we did what we could to help. He was incredibly kind and patient despite his obvious anxiety and stress, more than most able bodied, housed patrons are to us under much less dire conditions. I liked knowing that we were the first place he came.

We have so many people like this who come in everyday. Many are quiet and keep to themselves, but sometimes they talk to us.

They tell us about how they're taking a few courses on a scholarship they applied for from our library's computer at the local community college to get their diploma. Or ask about a manga or dvd or book we might have to help them pass the time.

One woman, who comes in daily with her tattered walker always says hello to me and likes to work on the new jigsaw puzzle with me when we set one out.

So like, treat unhoused people like people. Treat disabled people like people. I don't want my library to feel like the only safe space in the world, but I'm glad it can be one of them.

I'm so sick of hearing about how "the homeless are ruining everything" when they are some of the kindest, most respectful people here. Sometimes they mutter, might not have had a place to shower, and might need a little extra space for their backpacks but that's FINE. It Doesn't Matter Actually. None of that is a problem or any of my business to care about (unless they request help/services), and I also don't think it's any of yours.

[pusheenthenerdcat]

libraries provide vital and lifesaving services and i will die on the hill you have to let people who are mentally ill and disabled and homeless and politically disagreeable to you still access those rescourses. its simply too important to society

[were--ralph]

someone make this into a bumper sticker

[savvytwinkle]

This is absolutely not staying in the tags

[were--ralph]

@geothefafa we desperately need an update with a picture of Garcia

[geothefafa]

he had to grab a picture of her

i hope this helps

[commiehilfiger]

it's actually dr pepper rodriguez and she's an official dr now bc she got her phd!

[geothefafa]

THATS HER!! I'm dying laughing that we completely forgot her lore and just made an oc based on this dr pepper can promotion. I'm glad she really did it though! We may have been facing the wrong way but we were rooting for her the whole time ❤️

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Padilla-Rodríguez, Ivón | History | University of Illinois Chicago

Padilla-Rodríguez, Ivón | History | University of Illinois Chicago

Ivón Padilla-Rodríguez is an assistant professor in the Department of History, specializing in the socio-legal history of child migration to the United States. The daughter of formerly undocumented Mexican immigrants, her research in and outside of academia is rooted in her longstanding commitments to immigrant communities.

She is currently working on a book project, which is based on her quadruple prize-winning doctoral dissertation, that exposes the long history of child migrants’ cruel reception in the U.S., as well as the resistance and organizing by migrants, their children, and local advocates.

She fuckin’ aced it, guys.

[teaboot]

I’m not Christian, I don’t go to church anymore, and my pastor died, but when he was alive I’d sometimes go to his sermons and I remember one time he said “it feels good to hate, but we know that it isn’t allowed, so when we’re told that we’re allowed to hate someone we get so excited that we forget we’re supposed to love”, and if my humble atheist ass might borrow some church talk I’d like to perhaps submit that

[geneticdriftwood]

honestly? abandoned/on indefinite hiatus/very slow to update fics, even and especially AUs and longfics, are often some of my absolute favorites. and people who refuse to read them are missing out!

for one, stories don’t have to be finished to be enjoyable and worth reading. but also? an unfinished fic is a whole little universe that just keeps on existing in my head! their world stays alive for me in a way that doesn’t always happen with fics I binge read and finish, and i love it. i don’t know how their story ends, so it just keeps going! and even when those stories DO update and finish years later, they’ve been in my head for so long that they stick around like old friends.

so to any author with unfinished works: thank you SO much for sharing what you had without waiting to finish it first. you’re just giving me the gift of getting to spend more time with your story and your idea. if you do update again someday, i’ll be delighted to jump back in! but if you don’t, just know a little piece of your world still lives on in a beloved tiny terrarium in my brain. i promise i’m taking good care of it :)

i don’t normally ask this, but if this resonates with you please reblog it, so it can reach the authors who need to hear it <3

[aro-narcissus]

Starting a collection

[charlesoberonn]

♫ It's fun to stay at the ♫

[speciesbarocus]

Roman mosaic floor discovered under a vineyard in Negrar di Valpolicella, Veneto.

[birdsquirrel]

#something about this really gets to me #how if you get enough dirt on your floor it just becomes the ground #and eventually someone is trying to farm in your living room

[capinejghafa]

Josh Johnson: So much of the of the culture, so much of what people like about a culture that they're willing to take in, they try to do as best as possible to the exclusion of the people that the culture is actually from. Right? So, you'll see how people of Latin descent have been treated in this country the entire time while we fall in love with more and more and more and more of their stuff. You know what I mean? And it's something that obviously happens to black people. It's something that's happened to Asian-Americans and everything, but it's something that doesn't always get addressed is that if you loved what we make, then just love us. We made it.

SINNERS (2025) dir. RYAN COOGLER // JOSH JOHNSON (10.7.25)

[suffering-and-misery]

adhd paralysis sucks bcuz im just sitting there and my brain is like

YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME

no work done no rest gained. literally no point of this at all

[sabrsiren-deactivated20250418]

just wanted to share these executive dysfunction comics i am so sorry to whoever drew them these have been saved on my phone for like 6 years

[demonius-darkblade]

hate how they forced bugs bunny into anti-weed propaganda in the 90s, as if bugs bunny wouldn’t love smoking weed 

[clayboy2000-deactivated20210427]

To be perfectly fair, bugs bunny would also love taking money for starring in anti-weed propaganda and then using said money to buy weed

[violencevoyager-deactivated2022]

bugs bunny is not real 

[zvaigzdelasas]

[xylophonicsynapse]

[alanaisalive]

The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.

Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.

So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.

Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.

[iguanamouth]

oh shit

[throughshadow-to-the-edgeofnight]

[alanaisalive]

As the OP of this post, I’m going to threaten that if this gets to one million notes by the 10 year anniversary on 1 June 2026, one year from today, I will get a lower back tattoo of the loch ness bear monster.

[docd666]

Y'all know what to do Tumblr.

[wyrd-woman]

I’m doin’ it.

[hils79]

[gallusrostromegalus]

I am watching a mouse make a series of what I can only describe as Fuck Around Choices, and the Find Out is VERY excited to continue this little experiment.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I'm watching my parent's dog Arwen up at their house.

Arwen (Kelpie, 60lbs) is 15(ish?) now and while she has a high prey drive and history of successful hunts, she's also 15 and doesn't give many fucks. I also have my dogs. Charleston (Sighthound/pointer mix, 50lbs) is 10 and another proactive carnivore, but he's also JUST finished making his Perfect Couch Nest and doesn't want to get up.

...Herschel (Corgi, 40lbs and extremely tube-shaped) is 5 and has no Prey Drive, but he does have a PLAY Drive, which i found out last time I was up here and found him, having cornered a baby bunny, play-bowing and shaking his ass at it because he just had a Great Time chasing it, now it was the bunny's turn to chase HIM! Even though all three of these assholes spent all day dragging me hither and yon through the rockies, he still has the endurance of an athenian messenger and still looking for a reason to careen around the house at Mach Fuck.

A Reason has Arrived.

My parent's house is the median age of a US senator, and every year about this time, the local mice start experimenting with sneaking into the house for warmth and snacks.

At 11:14 PM, I noticed a single gray mouse had entered, and was exploring the far side of the living room, which is fully accessible to the dogs, but not in their immediate line of sight.

About a minute in, Charleston notices, but his sole reaction is to look at it, then make very pointed eye contact with me as if to say "Are You Seeing This Shit? Disrespectful." and then curl deeper into his couch nest. Arwen is very asleep, snoring and farting.

Shortly after that, Herschel noticed The Mouse, mostly because it had meandered into the main part of the living room, possibly lured in by the kibble-heavy scent of Dog Farts. It had, actually, wandered to within two feet of where Herschel was splooted on the floor, dozing, directly in front of his nose.

Now, I don't now much about Mouse vision, but on average, Herschel is very nearly the same color as my parent's carpet, and does very much resemble a faux-fur throw pillow in shape and texture. Perhaps he is well-camoflaged. Perhaps it is full of tiny rodent hubris.

It is very quiet- quiet as a mouse, even- but it must still smell of one, because the first thing I see is Herschel's nose twitch. His eyes slowly crack open Cross to focus Then very quickly open as he recognizes the shape as A Potential New Friend!

His Nubbin begins to wag One hind foot goes up The the other and he slowly rises to a mere half inch above his previous elevation, and begins to slowly play-stock the mouse.

This is not the subtle maneuver of a camouflaged predator, but the hyper-visible way that Corgi and other herding dogs go "I'm Gonna Getchya! I'm Gonna Getchya!" at sheep and cattle and birthday parties full of toddlers in an attempt to get thin to break into a run so The Chasey Game can begin.

The Mouse noticed that it had been Noticed (TM) but to it's credit, it did not run, but instead was very casually search-ambling back to whence it came, it's ears pointed directly behind it, listening to The Find Out. Props to the mouse, even though Herschel had significantly closed the distance between them, it was maintaining it's facade well.

...but it has now made the peculiar descision to shelter inside the Wobbler Kong, a hard plastic and heavy toy that is in fact exceptionally bite-proof and may have kibbles in it.

The reason there may be Kibbles in it is that I feed Herschel all his meals in the Wobbler to keep him from bolting his food and/or choking himself, because in order the get the kibbles back out, he must do smack the shit out of the wobbler like so:

He's currently standing, staring at the wobbler, waiting for his New Bestie to come out, but I can see the gears of impatience turning and he may decide to accelerate the mouse's descision-making process.

[gallusrostromegalus]

The reason I am allowing this to happen is that The Mouse is unlikely to come to any harm beyond some environmentally-adaptive trauma, and I am Hoping it hauls ass back to the compost bin where most of them live and tells the colony that there's a very large fucked up little man in the house, fuck that shit, let's stay out here.

I don't know if Psyops work on mice but I feel like it's worth a shot.

[gallusrostromegalus]

After a few minutes of waiting for the mouse to come out, Herschel was getting concerned (bored) and stood up all the way, little paw raised, ready to smack the fun back into this poor creature.

"Ah!" I told him.

As much crime Herschel commits, he's actually quite biddable, and stopped, little paw raised, staring at me before slowly lowering it.

"Good job!" I tell him, and he wiggles with joy. "Figure it out!"

Herschel returns his attention to the wobble, circling and sniffing it with small boofs of excitement, looking bac at me for approval eery so often, before giving the bottom of Wobble the smallest, gentlest push with his nose, which doesn't make it rock, but does scoot it along the carpet.

"Okay!" I tell him, and for the last few minutes he has been slowly scooting the mouse inside the wobble across the living room floor an inch at a time.

This has, however, made charlie actually sit up and watch, so I may need to intervene soon.

Arwen is still snore-farting.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Ok so I may have a broken ankle but not because of this, updates when I get back from the urgent care.

[gallusrostromegalus]

FUNNY STORY-

I mean my whole life is a funny story but in this particular case, it's funny because while I do not have a broken ankle, I do have a pretty severe sprain, and a new appreciation for the horrors of Wordle.

I'll get there.

Anyway, when we last left off, Herschel was doing the Canine equivalent of Playing Cars with the wobble, scooting it around the living room with his nose, which was enough to wake up both Charlie and Arwen, who were squinting at him with matching expressions of "What is the Ginger Idiot up to now?"

Eventually, Herschel got distracted and paused to get a drink, and I started to get up to rescue the mouse, but before I could walk over to the far side of the Living Room, the mouse made the first move, and stuck it's face out of the treat hole to see if the coast was clear.

...in full view of Charleston, and in the following millisecond, I watched his body and Soul become possessed with the millennia-old instincts of his sighthound ancestors, and the more recent instruction of the cats who raised him, and in a beautifully fluid motion that inspired the poets of old, launched himself out of his decadent nest of couch pillows and quilts, up over the coffee table and about 15 feet across the living room to POUNCE on the Wobble and Mouse.

Fortunately, for the mouse, the Wobble isn't the easiest thing to grab, even if you have opposable thumbs, and instead of acquiring a late-night snack, Charlie instead pressure-launched the wobble across the living room and into the kitchen, where it proceeded to pinball around between the cabinets and dinner table.

Herschel, who loves activities and is also a jealous little brat who hates it when Charlie so much as looks at his toys, retaliated by taking a flying leap onto Charlie's face and the two began to wrassle aggressively while Knocking the wobble and everything else in the kitchen around, including me as I tried to grab the wobble from between them.

Charlie broke away from his brother via the complex tactical strategy of "Use limb superiority to smack him repeatedly in the face", and sprinted out of the kitchen across the house with the look of an animal In Hot Pursuit, Herschel and myself on his heels. When Charlie came to a halt at the back door, there was no mouse to be found, much to everyone's bafflement.

I hear jingling back in the living room. I return to find Arwen has gotten up, walked the seven and a half feet to where the Wobble is in the hall now, and laid back down, both big Puppy Crime paws on either of the Wobble.

I am walking back, because usually she just wants to lick kibble dust and the occasional forgotten green bean out of it, and am fairly sure the Wobble is Devoid of Mouse, who has escaped to relay news of the modern wolf pack inside the house.

Instead, Arwen opens her mouth wide, turns her entire head sideways, clamps onto the top of the wobble, and twists her neck.

She's learned how to unscrew it.

I sprint back and manage to grab the wobble from her and the other two canines now Baying for Rodent Blood at my feet, and carefully peek inside.

The Mouse is still within the Wobble, plastered to the far side of the container, extraordinarily flat, as though trying to become one with the hard plastic walls. Deciding that it was Traumatized Enough, I taped a paper towel over the opening to trap it but not create an airtight seal and took it out to the yard.

I was about to release it when I looked back to see all three dogs at the door, watching every motion with a laser focus, and realized that they'd scent-trail it back to the main colony. I decided I didn't really feel like dealing with the consequences of Arwen and Charlie teaching Herschel that pinkie mice are made of meat, and opted instead to take the mouse to my car, and drive it a few miles up the road to the nearest meadow for release.

It's a lovely October Night. Temperature in the low 50's, full moon, and the wind blowing through the turning leaves when I get to the meadow, and I take my time going down the embankment from the gravel parking lot of the city park, a bit into the tall grass near the creek that cuts through the meadow, and carefully unscrew the wobble. The mouse is still braced to the inside, so I set the pieces down and wait for it to cautiously start sniffing and delicately step out of the toy, stare up at me for a moment, and then scamper off into the grass.

I look up at the big yellow moon, and for a moment, all is well with the universe.

then there is not quite a noise, and not quite a motion but more of a Disturbance In The Force on the edge of my peripheral vision, and I slowly turn to look.

Also enjoying the Lovely October Night and the associated seasonal changes to its anatomy is one of the last true Megafauna of the Ice Age, which have been making a big comeback in Colorado of late, but I had not realized they'd come out of the mountains and into city limits:

The Bull Moose is maybe 60 feet away from me, and still making up its mind about how it's going to respond to this invasion of it's personal space.

Slowly, I back up the way I came.

The Moose chooses violence, as is it's right, and charges.

I am possessed by ancient instincts much like Charlie was and scramble back up the embankment, into the parking lot, and sprint for the car, which has already endured one moose attack and lived.

Unfortunately, just before I get to the car, I eat shit on the loose gravel, roll, ans slam my ankle into a granite boulder at the edge of the lot with considerable force.

Adrenaline carries me through, and I get back up, run the remaining five very painful steps to the car, and get inside. I start it up, through the brights on to dazzle the moose, and prepare to make a very inadvisable reversal out of the lot.

The moose is only halfway up the embankment, staring with a dull disappointment into my brights, having concluded from my spectacular lack of coordination that I am no threat to it, and it turns back down the small hill.

It's my left ankle, so I can still drive, but I still spend two hours in the Urgent Care to get it looked at and braced, because there are people having Much Worse nights ahead of me, and decide to be grateful that for all my other problems, I am not having their problems, even if there is no Wifi.

I get home, all three dogs stomp as hard as they can on my boot to make sure it's good and sturdy, and I pass out in the recliner like my Dad for a solid five hours, and then got woken up again because Herschel and Arwen were having an argument about who was going to sleep on my leg to fix it next.

Charlie has won.

---

If you'd like to support me and the Gallus Foundation For Fucked Up Ankles, please consider donating to my Ko-fi or subscribing to my Patreon to pre-order the Family Lore: A Lineage Of Absurdity book I'm writing.

[gallusrostromegalus]

So I had to go back and get the Wobble so Herschel could have breakfast, and while poking around in the grass, my sister texted me.

Sister: So I saw the mouse story???

Me: oh god don't tell mom.

Sister: oh no, they'd worry too much.

Sister: ok but if I tell you something you can't tell them, okay?

Me: now what

Sister: were you up at North Shields Pond? The one with the turtle sign?

Me: yeah?

Sister: okay that's just spooky.

Sister: so you know that huge dent in the back of Beyond? (my car, formerly her car)

Me: Yes, it's how I find it in parking lots?

Sister: never tell mom but I didn't back into a Ballard.

Me: oh my God.

Sister: I think it was like 2019, but Arwen had cornered a mouse that climbed into her old puzzle ball so I took it out to the meadow there to release it, and it was suuuuper late at night so I didn't see the moose either...

Me: what the fuck

Sister: I mean I didn't eat shit and fuck up my ankle but that thing hit the car harder than that time I got hit by that pickup.

Me: what the fuck kind of Bethesda-ass glitchy specific trigger videogame cutscene bullshit is this?

Sister: I DON'T KNOW???? MAYBE THE MICE ALL HAVE A TELEPATHIC LINK TO THAT MOOSE SPECIFICALLY??

Me: that makes as much sense as anything else.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Arwen passed away in March of this year, and I think this was the last story I wrote about her.

I miss her terribly, but reading this made me laugh instead of cry, so here's to her memory and the Greatest Canine Criminal of a generation!

[alexander]

She got so mad she wrote song lyrics and edited a video and everything omg

[thesilverhammer]

Living.

[theblairwitchboy-deactivated201]

WHAT IS THIS AND WHY DO I LOVE IT SO MUCH

[unshaped]

this is the video description on youtube: “ I’ve been a server for 5 years. I made a song about the way white girls ask me for boxes. “

[chumchunom]

CAN I GET A BOX?

[sexygaylibrarian]

Always reblog Can I Get A Box

[toxicfaggette]

Finally a fucking good post

[averycooldad]

God a classic

[emotion-deluxe]

Tectonic plates shifted buildings collapsed meteors struck the earth. People died.

[mabeltanaka]

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992)

[raphmike]

I HAVE WAITED ALL YEAR TO POST THIS