What's stronger? A flock of sheep, or a flock of birds?
🐑🐦
(very late birthday gift for @kekeflipnote!)
No title available
cherry valley forever

No title available
No title available
almost home

⁂
will byers stan first human second

@theartofmadeline

pixel skylines
NASA
Monterey Bay Aquarium
styofa doing anything
Not today Justin
Keni
Game of Thrones Daily
AnasAbdin

No title available
$LAYYYTER
One Nice Bug Per Day

if i look back, i am lost
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from India
seen from Singapore
seen from Sweden
seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from T1

seen from Türkiye

seen from Türkiye
@tallrugbyguy
What's stronger? A flock of sheep, or a flock of birds?
🐑🐦
(very late birthday gift for @kekeflipnote!)
What's stronger? A flock of sheep, or a flock of birds?
🐑🐦
(very late birthday gift for @Kekeflipnote!)
I'll admit it, I'm attracted to the little people. Women AND men. Yeah, it's a little creepy, I'm a young 48 facially, 6'10", solid dick, very oral, built like a defensive tackle, play a contact sport at the middle-club level (just barely), drive a muscle car, listen to loud, angry music, a lot of stereotypically masculine or at least tough stuff, not an act, just how I am, with a little jewelry.
Anyway, there was this cute one, maybe 30. Like really stumpy arms and legs, like dwarves. Maybe four feet tall. He would do cutesy stuff, like wear overalls to work (I think some retail thing), and a backpack shaped and colored to resemble a Big Mac. I saw him randomly on all the gay "dating" sites. But he couldn't get past the heigh difference, like, sure, probably, it's at least an attraction. He was even who I go for, (a bottom) but I guess the idea of our encounter being a nest of tropes, they didn't respond, although he "looked" back a lot without me actually clicking on his profile as he did mine, for a while. Another little person, whom I WASN'T enamored with, followed me from website to website, to where I had to block him everywhere, including here. That's devotion of a sort that I don't want, but it honors me in an odd way.
Owls are the cats of birds.
[wip]
maybe one day i'll draw zagreus not fresh off a run
addendum: this was referenced off of a statue made of a painting called The Kiss of the Sphinx!!
Watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 Episode 621 (late in what I feel was their best overall season), The Beast of Yucca Flats, and the Mads introduce that week's movie like a political rally. They give away who they're trying to sound like by using the term Contract With America. 1995. That was about where it began, our downfall as a nation. White-haired fatty-meany, smart but recognizably-evil. Intriguing so long as not taken seriously. But his type always chipped away at norms while citing nonexistent impossible discriminatory norms that must replace them. For all their current talk about replacement, they have tried to replace everything, so it doesn't work. Talk about souring the fucking milk.
Look, I'll just say it: Thriller is among the best popular music albums ever. But aside from those nine tracks, and an unauthorized locally-made bootleg remix of Bad (by Mike Hitman Wilson, Jackson toyed with releasing it before nixing it), most of Off The Wall (again, like Thriller both, great production by Quincy Jones, and much of the songwriting by Rod Temperton of Heatwave) and Stranger In Moscow, I don't really give a fuck about Michael Jackson's music. So when it comes to the weirdness, he was unacceptably weird. And I would bet he sexually abused some boys.
I lived and worked in a lighthouse at a previous job. There was a thick line painted in a circle around the shack where the fog signal was kept. The line represented how close you could get to the fog signal without experiencing physical harm in the form of eardrums shattering or worse.
Even in the house it was LOUD. Probably the loudest thing I have ever experienced but at a normal, predictable interval. You would begin to time your sentences with little pauses with the rest of the lighthouse crew so you would talk like this while making your………..HORN…………. tea and then carry on talking because you knew when it would go off. It rattled the walls and the dishes in our cabinet.
At least one girl had died there. They kept photos of her everywhere “in honor of her sacrifice” because she had decided to take the winter watch alone and died in a storm where bounders the size of mini vans had been lifted out of the ocean and left scattered across the island, to say nothing of the ice chunks. People weren’t allowed to be alone on the watch after that.
One day a dead moose washed up on shore and it took my entire crew all day but we managed to rig up a line to hang it up to dry because we thought having a moose skeleton in the house would really spice the living room up a bit. It did. Weird shit happens when six of you are left alone, like ALONE ALONE, no cell reception, no wifi, just a radio to contact the real world and not a lot of reason to do that. People don’t go on lighthouse jobs if they want to stay connected, I’ve found.
That said Id do it all again, I really do treasure those days
you know you could’ve just said “no they don’t have wifi” and that would’ve answered the question
But then you wouldnt have known about the moose
Watching Season 13's Arch Oboler's The Bubble on Mystery Science Theater 3000, one of my least-favorite episodes, and that movie gave me the feeling of the title track on the The Arm of the Lord album by Cabaret Voltaire, this really sparse synth, with the audio from some Evangelical film about Barry Mayson, a Hell's Angel who went hardcore Christian, that they'd randomly taped off a US UHF station while touring, probably at a Kansas stop, led into by Charlie Manson audio (other Manson audio features elsewhere). Just fuzzy, otherworldly, not entirely unpleasant but sinister throughout.
https://youtu.be/DyDiHSFEhJo?si=Di9CpDWgaaD35egH
This is why compliance people are necessary, and why we are often reviled by the "moneymaking" departments: We stop shit like this all the time. If I'd have been with any of these banks, I would have not just flagged these transactions, but halted them. If an exec had insisted we complete these, I would have gone over their head to THEIR manager. If they tried to fire me, I would have immediately gone to the press and the regulators. If they tried to sue me, I'd have written a book about why compliance staff is necessary and detailed the attempted coverup. There are things that one must take a moral stand on, and when you're on the moral high ground you always have options, plus the ability to live with yourself, the ultimate arbiter.
Watching Village of the Giants on Mystery Science Theater 3000 on Twitch, Some of these kids of major celebrities were kind of dullards. Someone said, "nepotism, we all do it".
I don't have a prolific enough (in terms of offspring created) family to inherit anything. The only possible thing I have is maybe a small amount of money if one of them passes away, which wouldn't replace them in my life. And I'm reminded that my late uncle spent his last years in terrible decline when I used to at least talk to him on the phone every other month or so. I'll just say it, I'm tired, stoned and frustrated, my uncle was (well-known actor), and one of my first cousins is (famous actor). Uncle would kind of drone on, what my 8 year old but college text-reading seminerdy semiathletic doofus brain would conjure. And sometimes he would rile up my beloved mom, which was probably what drove me away. But Uncle was damned amazing. If you have the widescreen (legendary film), he's in like 90% of the damned movie. He was a memorable killer in (action film), played a prank on (Huge Star) for weeks. He had a damned amazing life and career, and I just kind of accepted it as how life was, that it didn't often monetarily or through memorabilia change my life, I should have been cool by extension, and instead of caring if it made me cool, I should have kept the coolness, appreciated how damned awesome it is. These cool people are my blood. It does nothing for me really, but it feels GOOD. So that's why I review any (same famous actor as before) jokes on whether they're fair, funny, and fitting. I still have one Uncle, (Camera Operator), younger brother of (well-known actor), who had just as cool a life, one I didn't appreciate until I was older. I'm amazed he put up with me. I should find a way to fix this while I still can.
ok: i did a very stupid comic put it up on bluesky and immediately got embarrassed and deleted it BUT: im puttin it up again here so u guys cannot judge me
The rot consumes
For week one of Funguary, theme: Decay
"I'm still kicking" is such a funny way to say "I'm still alive". Like lol. I'm still thrashing. Flailing. Writhing even. The violence remains.