Reblog if you are a FEMALE rper.
Males go here
No Gender go here
The fact that these posts STILL make the rounds after years just warms my cold, dead heart.

#extradirty
Cosmic Funnies
wallacepolsom
Peter Solarz

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

JVL
styofa doing anything

shark vs the universe

PR's Tumblrdome

@theartofmadeline
Three Goblin Art
Not today Justin
occasionally subtle

Origami Around

oozey mess
Xuebing Du

if i look back, i am lost
Show & Tell

roma★

★

seen from Malaysia
seen from Greece

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from South Africa
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
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seen from Belgium
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seen from United States

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seen from Malaysia
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@tnbcaddict
Reblog if you are a FEMALE rper.
Males go here
No Gender go here
The fact that these posts STILL make the rounds after years just warms my cold, dead heart.
Potterlock : The Sorting Hat is never wrong - (2024)
The Sorting Hat is never wrong and Mycroft should mind his own business...
The Merman - (2024)
A John/Sherlock artwork to celebrate Mermay 💗
"I cant draw" then do it bad who gives a fuck.....
Partake in the joy of creation just for the fun of it. Just for a laff.
Me @everyone in the notes
Rykard, Lord of Blasphemy literally did this
honestly …
a "pretty boy" has been found sniffling and whimpering in the wilderness
Put Him Out Of His Misery
How do I still have 280 followers on here when this blog has been abandoned for years.
Hi hello tumblr. I return. Question is, do I see if I can get access back to my old rp blogs...
Nothing could be more correct than this
lol I get back on my tumblr for the first time in years and see I’m still getting notes on a post from 9 years ago. Good lord. IN OTHER NEWS I’m a vtuber now... if you wanna check out my vtuber page, click here!
surely this is a good idea that doesn't have the capacity to end real fuckin badly
Bridges aren’t supposed to have weight restrictions on them. That is, they don’t come with weight restrictions on them when they’re new. So a bridge with a weight restriction on it is a sign that something has gone wrong and the bridge does not meet current standards.
The maximum weight that a vehicle is allowed to carry on the Interstate System per federal law is 80,000 pounds gross vehicle weight (with a max of 20,000 pounds per axle). That’s 40 tons. That limit applies to every inch of pavement, not just the bridges. Since this is a known cap, a new Interstate bridge will be designed to accommodate an 80,000 lb GVW load on it. You could say the bridge’s weight limit is 80,000 lb/40 tons but that doesn’t really have much meaning, because a load higher than that would be illegal to transport on public roads anyway, and the road leading up to the bridge has the same weight restriction. (In practice, the bridge doubtlessly will be designed to have a little bit of let to it just in case some idiot tries to squeak by a few hundred extra pounds.)
Now, note that that law applies to the Interstate System only, because the federal government only has a governing interest in the Interstate System (and other roads that together make up something called the National Highway System) because they partially fund it. Most long-distance roads are owned and funded by the states. The states could theoretically set lower standard weight limits and/or design bridges with lower weight limits...but in practice they don’t.
One, because all of that 80,000 lb GVW traffic on the Interstate system has to go somewhere when it exits the system.
Two, because a group called the American Association of State Highway and Transportation Officials (AASHTO, who are best known for picking the road numbers) maintains a catalog of standard components for making bridges that meet Interstate System requirements. Engineers are expensive on a per-hour basis, so if you can direct your engineer to use standard components and make a standard bridge, that’s a lot cheaper than having them design a bridge from scratch to go over the creek in Nowheresville. As a result, most new bridges meet Interstate standards and have an 80,000 lb GVW rating even if they aren’t on the Interstate system. (This is also why all new bridges kind of look the same, but we’re not worried about how boring the bridges are for the sake of this post.)
So a bridge only has an explicit weight limit if it has been damaged in some way (through failure to properly maintain it usually) or because it predates the application of Interstate System standards and the standard AASHTO bridges.
Older bridges often have other problems in addition to the weight limits: many older designs are what we call “fracture critical”, which means that if one component of the bridge fails the whole thing collapses. Modern bridge designs have redundancy designed into them so that if one beam fails the other beams will carry the load until the damaged beam can be replaced. Older bridges also often don’t meet other standards, like height (16 ft clearance) and width (12 ft per lane plus 14 ft for shoulders) requirements.
Biden isn’t advocating eliminating weight limits and letting it be a laissez-faire free-for-all where trucks can just go wherever they want. He’s advocating for replacing bridges that carry weight limits with new ones that don’t have them.
wow i got absolutely schooled thank you for all this this is really informative. i have learned so much
⚠️flash warning⚠️
dolores just wants to sleep
“trans people with object names” and “trans people with average names” is missing an untapped market of “trans people with seemingly average shorthand names for absolutely insane full names” for example. max short for Maxwell House Brand Coffee Filters
girls you can have so much fun with this one… liz? ard. cass? erole. sandy? wich.
I know a trans dude whose name is Lev which is short for Leviathan
Just thinking about how it’s cool that our brains can process information instantaneously then it occurred to me that a measure of time we consider “instantaneous” may only seem instantaneous because that’s the limit of how quickly our brains can process information.
Need a better way to phrase this but our brains only seem super fast because the speed they run is literally the fastest thing we brain-dependent organisms can comprehend.
To a faster system, a second may seem excruciatingly long, and we humans appear to be stuck making dial-up noises for most of this excruciatingly long existence.
Someone make this into one of those tumblr alien stories where the aliens process everything at like, twice the speed of humans (so all aliens are basically low-key the Flash?) and whenever humans have to stop and think about what they’re going to say next or pause on an “um,” or “uh,” it is a test of the aliens’ patience.
“Should we be concerned for the human’s health, Kwo’nor? He has been making a pause noise for a very long time now”
“Do not worry, Kwo’sha, they just… do this sometimes”
The Quixnor are an ancient species.
Their dusty clay relics set the earliest civilizations back 50,000 generations. Every edge and isle and rocky new shoreline has been discovered, rediscovered, populated and decimated in the endless ebb and flow of time. Every corner of their red globe has been touched by Quixnor hands. Every moment packed brimming and dense with political action, scientific discovery, advent and breakthrough and progress. It would take 1,000 Quixnor lifetimes to understand even a fraction of their history. It would take unfathomable amounts more to understand the yottabytes of information stored in the species’ silicon archives.
This kind of history–rich and overflowing and incomprehensibly massive–is only to be expected of a species which has survived for 100 trillion Quixnor Eons.
Or, in metric, 5.28374 minutes.
The Quixnor, in that time, have learned much, discovered much, conquered much, mastered much, but some things remain forever outside the edges of their comprehension. At the forefront of this is the Frozen Ones. In the ever-scientific minds of the Quixnor people, there is no natural phenomenon more marvelous, more wondrous, and more terrifying than the Frozen Ones.
The Frozen Ones are an alien species. They are similar to the Quixnor in shape, and structure, and anatomy, and society. They are far off on an enormous watery planet easily visible on the scopes of the Quixnors’ vastly advanced telescopes. The Frozen Ones are easily observed, yet impossible to study, as their individuals have existed for timescales the Quixnor cannot represent in words or numbers. Scientists say the Frozen Ones’ kind have existed for Eons whose numeric representation contains millions of digits. No one truly understands what this magnitude means, not even the scientists.
The Frozen Ones do not move. They do not breathe. Their hearts do not beat. Their synapses do not fire.
The Frozen Ones are not dead.
They are, as best as the Quixnor scientists can reason, still very well alive, and somehow living on a timescale so enormous that millions of Eons may pass unheeded between inhales, between heartbeats. The Frozen Ones can do this without dying. On a more incredulous level–they can do this without even noticing.
The Quixnor have sent out countless contacts to the Frozen Ones, spanning thousands of Eons, two-dozen generations. They understand they will never see the result in their lifetime, nor their children, nor their grandchildren. The hope is only that some day, some Quixnor may hear a word back from one of the great, anomalous Frozen Ones…
…
James Buckman hitches up his pants and sniffs experimentally at his right hand as he leaves the men’s room. There’s a tepid cup of coffee getting colder on his desk and a buzzing plastic fan fluttering the edges of a few dog eared reports. His pen fell while he was gone.
He drops back into his seat, hand to his stubbly chin and attention set to the half-stack of documents he’d abandoned ten minutes earlier. He pauses, watery eyes shifting to the little satellite receiver angled on his desk. James does a double-take, chest tight at the tiny, green blurb which has appeared on his monitor.
Hello, Frozen One. We have learned your language from the great frozen world around you. You are remarkable to us. We are called the Quixnor. We’ve attached a humble, 1,293 page report of our species’ history for perusal at your leisure. The report includes instructions to contact us in return. We are greatly eager to hear from you, and to understand what your life is like on a timescale so massive.
The text begins to scroll. James’s eyes dart along at the flood. He blinks, baffled, and stares out at the cloudless sky for any visible source of the signal.
There is none. James’s bathroom break had lasted 11 minutes. The entire Quixnor civilization had birthed and died in less than 7.
Holy shit that's so cool
for the record this IS an apple hate zone yes I have an android phone yes I have a bulky PC with its own USB port yes I use wired headphones. you can go ahead and try to fight me on it but keep in mind how scrappy I must be considering I’m broke as shit and have nothing to lose and can guarantee my phone screen won’t shatter in the brawl
I just finished a delicious cosmic crisp and for the first ten words of this I was ready to fight you
for the record this IS an apple the tech company specifically hate zone I would never dare insult the humble fruit which has done so much for us that said my personal preference is fuji all the respect though