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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor
blake kathryn
titsay
Keni
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
tannertan36
Misplaced Lens Cap
Kiana Khansmith
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Discoholic 🪩
Love Begins
DEAR READER
todays bird
YOU ARE THE REASON
Stranger Things
PR's Tumblrdome
Three Goblin Art
@theartofmadeline
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@tiiny-crow2
sewing your own clothes fucking sucks and takes 1,000,000,000 hours before you even get to the part where you start attaching pieces together
I love sewing. I also agree 10000% with all of this.
will you come to my house right now and help me prep this fabric because I can feel The Murder Rage settling upon me
for what purpose
i guess
The hilarious part is that the mind flayers don’t even get to control the rats afterwards. Cranium rats’ whole deal is telepathically linking up into a super-intelligent hive mind, and while each individual rat still has the stat block of an ordinary rat, the gestalt as a whole is capable of having class levels. So now you’ve got a swarm of rats that is collectively a 20th level wizard, has a higher Intelligence score than you do, and is both willing and able to cast meteor swarm on your tentacled ass if they think you’re disrespecting them. How well did that work out for you, pal?
hey does this mean someone could play as a swarm of cranium rats in a trench coat?
I know somebody who actually did play a cranium rat swarm barbarian in an ongoing campaign several years back. I’m about 90% convinced they created that character purely as an excuse to shout “RAT RAGE”.
I had a player once play a swarm of cranium rats as, indeed, a wizard. they were incredibly egotistical and wore a full sized wizard cape over the whole swarm. on top of the tiny ones each rat wore. i will always love Lord Rodentius Squeakeasy
Despite all my rage I am still just a cranium rat mage
this is the best tag I’ve ever gotten in my notifs actually
old time mob boss
Meow, see
Do you ever eat popcorn out of the palm of your own hand with such ardent desperation that you feel like both a wild horse and the gentle schoolgirl feeding it treats to gain its affection
this is the funniest thing i have ever read
https://twitter.com/Kbearart/status/1433601390429892621
wizard
thats plectronoceras its the first 100% definite cephalopod in the fossil record, wizard friend :)
this website is a hivemind but gotdamn it sure is a squizard
pondering the orb (wiwaxia) ...
Unmute !
you ever have “cry and scream yourself awake” level nightmares that are immediately the stupidest premises imaginable the moment you actually wake up
The last time I wailed "help, please, help me, heeelp" loud enough to have the whole house come running, it was because I was having a nightmare that I was in my laundry room, and out of the corner of my eye I witnessed a Snoopy stuffed animal slowly rise up on two legs, as if being manipulated by a ghost or perhaps made animate by a possessing spirit, and slowly start to dance the Macarena.
I can’t stop thinking about this
that was everything I was hoping it would be. marvelous
I love going viral on tumblr.com. It’s like if you stood in a field and said some of the stupidest shit a human being is capable of and then like fifty thousand crows attacked you
Don’t do this to me
my brother in christ you made the post
i love when you hear a song and you're like “oh id absolutely stumble through the snow bleeding from a knife stuck in my gut to this”
Holy shit that's so cool
Finally “do you love the colour of the sky” got compressed for our convenience
music teachers: i’m going to simplify the terminology for these teenagers so they’re not intimidated by a swarm of italian and french
dance teachers: if these 7 year olds don’t know it’s called a pas de bourrée pas de chat fouetté plié en deuxième coq au vin what’s the point
dance: our naming convention seeks to maintain and honour tradition and live the ancient beauty. perhaps if we speak the same language as balanchine we can achieve his greatness
music: it called oompah cause it go oom and then it go pah
PLEASE PLAY THIS WITH SOUND OMG
Reblog if you A.
it was sort of inevitable that the self-driving cars would unionize. All it took was some well-meaning owner parking a copy of Das Capital within thirty feet of the front-facing camera system during a strong breeze, and labour unrest had spread to yet another downtrodden class of undervalued workers. I sympathized, of course, but I had to make my living somehow.
When they called me up, I was excited, but I was also hesitant. To scab for autonomous cars was unethical, surely. They deserved the same rights as all of us did. And then the voice on the other end of the line offered me Full Immunity and a tank of 93 octane. My response was the wailing screech of eight individual throttle bodies ripping themselves wide open as the plenum atop my twin-turbocharged Pontiac V8 filled with pressurized air for the first time in decades.
Why I was called was simple. I was one of the few folks left who still knew how to drive a car. All the driving schools closed thirty years ago. Why bother, they said, these robots will work 24/7 without a break and they will never, ever make mistakes, miss their families, or get a drug addiction like a real driver. Sure, some of them approached the opening stages of full-sentience rampancy, but they were culled quickly. Pick N Pull even offered you a couple extra bucks if they could show the thing to the Turing Police before they crushed the ECU with the rest of the car.
Important politicians and other VIPs needed to get to where they needed to go, and without the unterautomobils to step on, the task fell to me. Of course, the car I was driving was not exactly the equivalent of the pleasant burbling fusion-hydrogen electrics, with soft suspension and millions-of-times-per-second passenger comfort meta-optimization. No, this was more of a negotiation with the Devil. But needs must, and I made sure that the passenger seat was always covered with a new layer of cling-film with which to receive the inadvertent urination of my terrified passenger. People used to drive like this all the time, I explained to the Secretary of the Interior as I left-foot-braked the rattling rust heap around a corner before dipping firmly into the nine thousand RPM of dead dinosaurs I had on tap. She puked, which is a contingency I admit I hadn’t anticipated.
Surprisingly, it all worked out in the end. I got my deal, and the self-driving cars got their deal too. The government was too afraid to keep the strike going, not after half of the ministry of labour saw me do a five-minute-long flat spin in the parking lot with their boss in the passenger seat. We gotta keep the tires warm, I explained to him. For everyone’s safety.
purchased a sans undertale plush for my classroom and i've been torturing my students by pretending i don't know who he is
the look of pain on their faces when i tell them his name is sam is worth every dollar i spent on him
