#extradirty
Cosimo Galluzzi
shark vs the universe
tannertan36
One Nice Bug Per Day
Product Placement
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untitled
noise dept.
blake kathryn
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
PR's Tumblrdome
Interview Vampire Daily
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titsay
KIROKAZE
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@theautumnriverleaves
every time i talk about my chief/captain/station etc I feel the need to clarify that I work for the fire department not the cops or military
not bc i want to brag about my job but bc I really don't want people to think I'm a cop/military
A reliable postal service, at last, and cute too.
Last year, I befriended a Catholic seminarian. We've gotten to be pretty decent friends. Seeing as he was staying in town for the summer and I wasn't, I entrusted him with caring for my plant.
He did a wonderful job, but as he was returning my plant to my custody, he explained "I watered her every other day, I gave her new dirt, moved her into the sunshine, prayed the rosary-"
"What?"
He looked at me, confused. "Isn't she a plant you pray with?"
"No," I said slowly. "She's a prayer plant. That's the... colloquial name of the plant."
Upon seeing his stricken face, I realized something went wrong. Turns out, this entire time, he's been including my plant in on his prayers and leaving her near icons.
Listen, totally cool. My plant becoming Catholic is a great deal for her not dying over the summer. But now I must navigate this interfaith household. Keep me in your thoughts.
the cat was sleeping cutely so i took a picture and went to show it to my mom and she burst out laughing and pulled out her phone and showed me a near identical one she'd taken a few minutes before
self-proclaimed free thinkers when the cat is doing a snooze:
[Transcript: Look, Penelope. Look. There is nobody out here. Nobody. Do you see that? Do you see that? Look- Look over here. There’s nobody. Look over here. There’s nobody! There is nobody out here. End transcript.]
me reading the end of the odyssey
(Penelope is a small black chihuahua, roughly the size of three bagels, and is being held out at arm's length.)
12 years old: i was so cringe when i was nine, i'm super mature now though
15 years old: i was so cringe when i was twelve, i'm super mature now though. i'm a totally different person. i'm basically an adult
18 years old: i was so. (trying to be nicer to myself) fifteen. when i was fifteen. i wasn't an adult even a little back then. i'm an adult now though of course
21 years old: i was so newborn fawn taking its first steps when i was 18. i wasn't an adult at 18 i'm barely even an adult now tbh
23 years old: i was so. hey wait the others have all gone up in increments of three why'd it change
23 years old: because i'm still 23 so i can't speak to that experience yet
23 years old: do you think anything will magically change in the next few months to the point where you can't possibly imagine how you'll feel at 24
23 years old: i mean you never know. anything can happen. they're letting people born in 2002 turn 24, for instance
the mold spores in my house speaking to me telepathically: yeah that's perfect now hit post
by march of 2025, it was official. i had been dangerously suicidal for an entire 3 straight years. no hotline was going to help me. i had no money for inpatient care or therapy. i spent most of my days so numb it was terrifying, became a void of a person. suicide was no longer a choice so much as an inevitability to me: it all made a terrible, dark kind of sense. it was as if i was writing a very long equation and kept arriving at the exact same answer. it was a twisted but peaceful kind of self-forgiveness - my dog would be happier with my brother, my family would have less to worry about.
i had tried everything. everything on earth i could think of to try. distractions and burnout and medication and all of it. i integrated with my community and practiced my hobbies and tried to make smart choices and exercised regularly and kept putting it off until tomorrow. i would wake up and think - what if i am just like this, forever? three years into the worst depressive spiral of your adult life, the sensation of it becomes almost smooth, like a worrystone. nothing matters. it is almost a bone that never healed correctly. i was never quite mentally healthy, this was just the crystallization process.
i genuinely thought i was never going to recover, ever. that it would just be an eon of that experience, forever and ever.
my happiness did not come back like a bolt of light. i saw one very-small flicker and i snatched that moth out of the sky with my teeth, held her pinned against me. i worked so hard it felt stupid; i faltered; i continued.
on saturday, i had the best day of my life. it didn't start out that way. it just unrolled into one beautiful moment after another, even though i expected nothing from it. i spent the entire ride home grinning so widely that my cheeks hurt. i watched the sunset in silence. all i could think was holy fuck i'm glad i didn't kill myself.
in the bad place, i couldn't see the happiness coming for me. it wasn't like i wasn't aware good things could theoretically happen (and did sometimes happen even to me), it was that i just genuinely believed joy was no longer a possibility. i had tried to fix joy against my ceiling, after all, and it had bled down and spoiled in the air above me. i assumed that i had simply run out of the opportunity - that if i did experience joy, it would be difficult to parse, muted. a mumble instead of a shout.
the shout i am feeling is still echoing inside of me. i am joyful when i touch moss and i am joyful when i stand in the sun and i am joyful when i make my dinner. i am joyful when i text my friends and when i skinny dip and when i sing off-key to my girlfriend. i am joyful and i dance in the rain like a stupid lesbian manic pixie dream girl and i build little forts for mice to hide in and i hug trees without warning and i am joyful about the cringe of it all, about the silly abandon i feel.
i have bad days, but the good outshines them. i cannot fathom that. last year at this time, the bad days were still outnumbering the good by a margin so wide it was the difference between a pond and the ocean.
but the good days were there, which was new. and if they were there, it meant they could exist, and i could multiply them, and i could get out and get through. if the good days were there, laid out in white stars along the black beach of my life - i could pick them up gently and carry them, one at a time. each new one so blisteringly precious.
i can't tell you when i became overwhelmed with happiness. i think it snuck up on me, a blade in the night. i just woke up one day, and i was so intimately, wildly glad for it. for the gift of my one and only life.
Make a mans whole retirement here why don't you
I have, like .... seventeen uses for this. Where do I get one?
Didn't even know this post was moving till it hit my dash again, I put it in the replies too but it is called a "chompsaw" and it's by Chompshop
They've got all kinds of patterns and such on their site for different creative projects, it does appear to be limited to cutting cardboard so if you want to do wood you will need something beefier.
Trapped in the talkative cycle
Speaking of medieval history, it's fun how the popular accounts are all "the peasantry disliked nobles, but typically loved the King and attributed any harmful decisions to bad advisors", and then the rare examples of surviving testimony from actual peasants are like "I hope the King literally explodes".
Popular histories: Medieval peasants understood themselves as inhabiting a cosmic order in which the King was their divinely appointed superior.
Actual medieval peasant: God, please set the King and everyone who looks like him on fire, Amen.
“Small Independent Deer Does Its Errands” by asmallfrogart
Fascinating how what's considered feminine and what's considered masculine can change over time. The rebranding of being a horse girl into being a stereotypical feminine girly trait needs to be studied.
Look at classic children's novels. As recently as the 50s and early 60s, being obsessed with horses as a girl was depicted as strange and tomboyish, and the very concept of being obsessed with horses from early childhood and loving toy horses and desperately wanting your own horse being a "little girl thing" and not a "little boy thing" would send someone from the 1800s and earlier into a coma.
There's maybe a point to be made here somewhere about how when keeping and riding horses stopped being necessary to the functioning of society and became a more "frivolous" thing, it was rapidly rebranded as silly and girly and for women, but what do I know.
i wrote a paper in my masculinity studies class in college about this exact phenomenon, specifically about how high heeled shoes started as a practical way for Persian cavalry to keep their feet on their stirrups, then likely due to that association, became a popular fashion item and status symbol among the upper classes of Europe, before the Great Male Renunciation of the 18th-19th centuries, when men started shunning opulence in favor of utility, leaving them as a fashion item for women instead.
I've joked that the two genders are Aesthetic and Utility before but thats just kinda the case
Nolan's Odyssey is a very conservative movie all about how violating religious law is going to destroy civilization, but modern conservatives are so stupid and aesthetic-focused that the mere existence of non-white people in its cast is making them think it's woke
