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@tanaerian
Hey SPG tumblr
Reblog this if you’re cool with having your fanbot/oc drawn by other people (in a SFW way obviously)
Because yinz have such cool robot designs and I want to draw them but I don’t wanna be rude
I can't stress how cool with that I am.
Add or remove a letter, ruin an SPG song.
I'll start:
Farting in the ocean
And it's much cooler way down
What happens if something happens to Peter VII? He has no heir. Who will keep Walter Manor and the robots I'm worrrrried.
OK I'm crawling back to the SPG fandom after literal years of absence. Can we talk about the state of play?
- SWH II has no business slapping this hard. HAVE you poured this honey on your cereal yet?
- Seventh album makes me so nervous. My precious baby Peter.
- The lack of a music video for New Hat. If I don't get a video in which Spine changes hat in literally every clip I'll be so sad.
- The new line up making me feel like coming home (& coming up for air, while I'm at it)
If you have a bachelor’s degree in science or engineering, you have as much formal science education as Bill Nye. You are officially a Science Guy.
O HELL YE
All children are born with qualities based off their zodiac. Parents will celebrate the birth of a Virgo daughter, forever beautiful and pure, or the birth a brave, confident Leo. Other parents lament at their Aquarius children, forever cursed to carry around a bucket of water. Write about a couple anticipating their first child.
(trigger warning: implications of potential miscarriage & terminal pregnancy complications.)
The campaigns always started in August.
The Government would say it, the planned parenthood clinics would say it, adverts would be rolling daily:
'Save your life.
Use protection.'
Constant reminders were everywhere. The government had recently opted for the use of Plain Lubrication Packaging, with the same warning in large, white letters on a plain black bottle and the accompanying photographs... Gruesome was an understatement.
Gender reveal parties weren't a thing. Nobody gave a toss about that. But people liked the Zodiac reveal. Revealing the due date would tell everyone all they needed to know.
Daphne had opted for something simple, and now was regretting the whole deal.
The plain cardboard box was now frankly forgotten, and sat on the kitchen table looking forlorn. Faintly swinging from strings tied to the box were two, plain white balloons.
“Gemini!” her father was growling. He spoke the word like profanity. His bullish Tauran tenancies shone through his anger. “Daphne, Gemini, of all the bloody stupid-”
“For pity's sake, Jim, it's not all that.” Daphne's husband Noah tried to put himself between them, “the little ones are planned. They're both there, they're both growing and healthy.”
“Can it,” Daphne's father spat back. It was an intensely rude retort to an Aquarius, and she watched as Noah's grip tightened around his vase.
“Shut it, the both of you.” Daphne rested a hand on her belly where a foot tried to push her off. Then another. And a third. “You probably would've noticed yourself if you hadn't been so self-absorbed. I'm as big as a truck, there's no way there's only one baby in here.”
“You're sure?” her father pressed, “absolutely sure?”
“Completely. The doctor showed me on the scanner. Dad, I'll be fine.”
He let out a steamy huff and looked aside. “I can't understand why you would do something so risky.”
She would explain to him, but not yet. She wanted him to calm down.
This would hopefully be their first child, but not for want of trying. After two miscarriages, they were making up for lost time.
If August was unpleasant, May was much worse. Now the rolling screens begged overdue women to get to hospital for induced labour. Every other billboard carried a white poster with loud black letters. On the left side, a heavily pregnant woman, wrist turned to show her watch, looking imploringly out of the poster. On the right, a doctor in scrubs, looking out with a much more serious gaze and arms crossed over her chest:
‘Taurus running late?
Get to Maternity now.’
On the 20th, all maternity wards had double staff for the last-minute rush. Women were ushered in quickly, and emerged a few hours later, relieved, cradling their little Tauran newborn.
Everyone knew someone with a birthday on the 20th May. Hardly anyone had a birthday on the 21st, and everyone knew why.
Daphne's contractions started at 7:19 am, 21st May. Earlier than planned, but in the right zodiac. She braced herself for the hospital, where the Planned and the Unplanned Zodiac were kept separate, but that didn't preclude the possibility of seeing something awful.
Between the zodiac, changes could occur. Daphne's husband was planned to be a Capricorn, but complications in labour delayed him until his mother birthed a baby nested in a terracotta water pot. A potential Taurus born too early saw, frankly, little difference: sprouting horns began to curl backwards like a ram, rather than out to the sides.
The change from Taurus or Cancer into Gemini was beyond disastrous. The body was rarely capable of coping with the expansion from one nearly full-term foetus to two.
Daphne didn't see much at the Unplanned entrance on her way in. One lady, barely walking, screaming with the pain from her slowly bloating belly. Another, unconscious and hurried in on a stretcher, her face obscured by an oxygen mask. The combination of the contractions and the sight of women going in who might not come back out alive made Daphne turn away, sick with fear.
Inside the Planned side, there was a strange calm, and a lingering sense of guilt. The women here were prepared and hopeful for Gemini, and every one of them knew that on the other side of the wall was a horror of screaming and dying women, and a battle of the case-by-case decision to save mother or children.
Daphne's own labour was torturously slow. Hours were passing, and she was still not even close on dilation.
A blonde woman arrived after her, and left before, with the vague smile of relief, but mostly of exhaustion. She was wheeled out with a small, fleeced bundle on her lap; two tiny faces were turned in towards one another, silently resting, curled up in the same blanket. That was very common for newborn Gemini; at a young age separation made them dizzy.
In the end Daphne didn't give birth until the next day. The little ones weren't as prepared to emerge as they initially gave the impression of. They were perfect. Completely perfect, from their two little noses to their twenty tiny toes.
Weeks later, they were laid side by side on a play mat. Daphne and Noah still hadn't parted them, any time they tried they began to cry. As one they stared up, entranced by a plastic duck that played a little song. Daphne hated the tinny music by now but couldn't turn it off or they'd start crying again.
They lifted a foot and began to chew on it.
That is to say, they lifted one foot of their right body into their left mouth.
Gemini were a little tricky to get your head round, at first. Two separate bodies, one mind, that saw the world through 4 eyes. The risk of having the child in the first place was immense, but Gemini children became the brightest and best of the world. With a whole extra body, they got twice as much done.
Daphne and Noah called their girls Jemima.
happy Thursday the 20th
I’d have to wait months or even years for another chance to reblog this, so why the fuck not?
next days you can reblog this on a Thursday the 20th
August 2015
October 2016
April 2017
July 2017
September 2018
December 2018
June 2019
February 2020
August 2020
You know, just in case you wanted to set your queue for the next 6 years
At some point after your death, someone will unknowingly make the last mention of you, and then you will never be mentioned again
Just put a better spin on it.
“No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away...”
-Terry Pratchett
If you’re old enough to remember it, you just lost The Game.
I have no idea what’s going on here
Back in the early aughts, when many millenials were in high school, before Facebook and Youtube, The Game began. No one knows who started it, but the moment we learned we were playing it, we began to lose. The goal of The Game is to forget you are playing The Game for as long as possible. The rules of The Game are as follows: Everyone is always playing The Game all the time; at school, during breakfast, at night when you are asleep, etc. The Game never ends. The moment you remember that you are playing The Game, you lose and must immediately announce to those around you, “I just lost The Game!” thus making them remember they are also playing The Game and causing them to lose as well. Upon losing, you begin The Game again. Sometimes players could go weeks or months without losing, sometimes only minutes. At the height of The Game’s popularity, it became common to see people at events such as Comic Con or midnight movie premieres, wearing t-shirts proclaiming “You just lost The Game!” Once they were noticed, groans and shouts of “Fuck you!” could be heard for miles. These people thrived on the chaos, taking great pleasure in the cries of their victims. Most people eventually grew bored of The Game, and many began to claim they won by choosing not to care about it anymore. Some rely on a particular XKCD comic strip or Tumblr post to lend a sense of legitimacy to their feeling of victory. They are fools. It is impossible to win The Game. There is only losing. Only a few diehards remain loyal to the rules. The drop in popularity has allowed many to keep from losing The Game for years at a time. The growth of social media has caused a minor resurgence, although without the satisfaction of real time auditory feedback when causing others to lose, The Game will likely fade back into obscurity once again. Someday when we are old and gray, our grandchildren will innocently ask us to play a game of checkers, and we will shriek and shout until the whole nursing home joins us in defeat. Death is the only release from The Game.
(https://xkcd.com/391/)
In high school, the teachers would send students to other teacher’s classrooms to announce “You just lost The Game”. It was chaos.
DAMNIT! DAAAAMNNITT!!!!
my dad just exploded into laughter out of nowhere and told me ‘imagine the lion king but with sea lions’ he has been chuckling about it for 5 straight minutes now
apparently it doesn’t matter that i’ve told him 10 times it’s the monkey who raises the newborn and not the lion himself, this is the scene he has been imagining
“he can’t raise his kid over his head”
I want it
okay but have you considered
quality content
Extreme quality
@squorkal can it be my job to find you seal posts? Because I want that job
Congrats for being the first post in a long time to actually make me giggle aloud.
What started as a little sketch turned into a full on fan art before I realized it was to late to stop myself! Anyway these guys (Steam Powered GIraffe) just blooped onto my radar a few days ago and i’m already head over heals for them. Love all the bots and their humans, but The Spines coat was so tantalizing that I just had to draw it first. Definitely gonna have a Rabbit, and Hatchworth drawn up real soon.
The Spine’s first token of love to her was a pure white handkerchief.
Her last act was to hand it back stained a crimson red.
Sadfaaace! :C
UUUHHH MY HEART
I’ve had this in the works for months. I decided to finish it since the song is by David Bowie. I kinda wish I’d drawn him as the one reaching out of the movie, but Clem has a thing for silver robots.
Life on Mars - David Bowie
I wanted to make this over with Bowie as the dude on the screen, as I should have at the time, but now I can’t find the files anywhere on my computer?!? Is there such a thing as a reverse image search on your own PC?
I nearly ignored this. So glad I didn't <3
You mean drown.
for real, though, why do recipes consistently tell you to use less herbs and spices in than you should. fuck your “two cloves of garlic,” fuck your “half teaspoon of cinnamon,” and you can absolutely go to hell with your “dash of black pepper”
I’m pretty sure that the only time I’ve ever actually managed to overseason food was when working with balsamic vinegar, which is the most overpowering motherfucker of a sauce known to man
i appreciate the energy and anger in this post, which is righteous and just
I mean you say that. I have heard the tale of the shabbat that went awry. It all started with a mis-read recipe for challah. One clove of garlic became one bulb. I am strongly informed that my preconception that 'there is no such thing as too much garlic' was heavily disproved that night.
SPG 30 day challenge
Day 29: Day 1, 8, and 22 team up to fight a great evil
tHEre’S a WaSP iN tHe RooM
THERE'S A WASP.
KILLITKILLITKILLIT
