art by @niochemblyat
I always know its getting toasty out in the world because girls start reblogging this post like crazy
trying on a metaphor
i don't do bad sauce passes
we're not kids anymore.
dirt enthusiast

Discoholic šŖ©
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Claire Keane
DEAR READER

Origami Around

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⣠Chile in a Photography ā£
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Kaledo Art
tumblr dot com
I'd rather be in outer space šø

JVL

Andulka
cherry valley forever
Xuebing Du
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@vacnyooming
art by @niochemblyat
I always know its getting toasty out in the world because girls start reblogging this post like crazy
who would win
gayle waters-waters
lestat de lioncourt
A Horse power being only 735 watt is honestly so weird like that's not even enough to run a modern game on decent seatings
You wanna know what's fucked?
Your brain is a 25-watt computer.
Brain is 25% of your energy consumption, you burn about 100 watts of power (about 100 joules per second). You're a 25-watt computer.
I don't like that fact
No but for real. Your brain is one of the most advanced machines known to exist. It's a computer capable of running a sapient intelligence on - and I cannot stress this enough - 25 watts of broccoli and stew. What the fuck.
It's a cool fact it just makes me uncomfortable
anyone else notice how when "digital assistants" were just supposed to do specific tasks when you asked for them we had Alexa and Siri and Cortana, but now that they're being marketed as smart enough to take actions and make decisions on their own they've got names like Claude and Devin
with the resurgence in popularity of calvin & hobbes, Iām so surprised no one has included this
lets smooch mama
She played bass on 10,000 songs, including the most-played track of the twentieth century. She was paid $55 per session. Her name never appeared on the albums.
Gold Star Studios, Los Angeles, 1964. A woman in a cardigan walks past the receptionist, a Fender Precision bass in her hand like a briefcase. She doesnāt sign autographs. She signs a timesheet.
Her name is Carol Kaye. In three hours, she will record what will become the most-played track of the twentieth century. Sheāll pocket fifty-five dollars and head to another studio, on the other side of town, for the next session.
The record label will never put her name on the album.
Between 1957 and 1973, Carol Kaye took part in roughly 10,000 recording sessions. Not as the featured artist, not as a guest, but as a hired hand. She was part of an anonymous collective nicknamed The Wrecking Crewāelite studio musicians who actually played the instruments on your favorite records while the famous bands posed for promotional photos.
The work was relentless. Three albums before the day was over. Stale coffee in paper cups. No rehearsal. The charts arrived minutes before the tape rolled. If you couldnāt read a chart and nail the take in two tries, you didnāt get called for the next session.
Carol could do it on the first try.
She started playing guitar in grimy bars at fourteen because her family couldnāt pay the electric bill. Music wasnāt a romantic dream for her. It was survival. It was a jobāfactory work with better acoustics and lower pay.
But she was faster and sharper than almost everyone else. She corrected charts in pencil while the producer was still explaining what he wanted. In one session in 1968, she told a famous producer his arrangement sounded like a dying dog. She chose her own line. They kept her version.
That descending bass line that drives the Beach Boysā āWouldnāt It Be Niceā? Carol Kaye. The propulsive groove of āThese Boots Are Made for Walkināā? Carol Kaye. The acoustic-guitar intro to āLa Bambaā? Carol Kaye. The iconic theme from Mission: Impossible? Carol Kaye.
She invented techniques on the spot, out of sheer necessity. When the bass sound was too muddy for AM radio, she stuck felt under the strings and used a hard pick instead of her fingers. The tone cut through the static like a blade. It became the sonic signature that defined 1960s pop.
Bassists spent yearsādecadesātrying to crack the secret of the Beach Boysā gear to get that sound. They were studying the wrong people. They should have been studying Carol.
She received no royalties. No residuals. No gold-record ceremony. No credit on the album sleeves. When āYouāve Lost That Lovinā Feelināā hit number one, Carol was already back in a studio cutting a soap jingle.
The biggest bands mimed her bass lines on TV variety shows. New York marketing departments decided a mom in classic clothes didnāt fit the rebellious-youth image they were selling. So they simply left her name off the album credits.
For thirty years, almost no one cared. The truth only began to surface in the late 1990s, when music researchers found the same union contract numbers on thousands of hit records. The very documents meant to preserve studio musiciansā anonymity betrayed them.
Think about it. Every time you heard āGood Vibrations,ā āRiver Deep ā Mountain High,ā the Righteous Brothers, Nancy Sinatra, or Sonny and Cher, you were hearing Carol Kaye. She composed the soundtrack of an entire generationās youth.
And yet the records still say nothing. Sheās now over eighty. She wrote instructional books. She trained countless bassists. She is finally starting to be recognized by music historians who uncovered the truth about The Wrecking Crew.
But she never got what she deserved: her name on those albums. Credit for the music that defined an era. Recognition that those bass lines everyone associates with the āBeach Boysā were, in fact, Carol Kayeās.
Fifty-five dollars a session. Ten thousand sessions. The most-played track of the twentieth century.
And the world didnāt know her name.
She was admitted to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2025 but refused, fuck yeah, Carol. Her official website is incredible.
In 2026, the chicest thing a gay actor can do is never explicitly come out as gay but also make it abundantly clear that he is. Coming out is too modern. Staying closeted is too old fashioned. But this method merges contemporary freedom with Old Hollywood glamour and allure, and it weeds out the dumbest people who truly donāt get it. I call it the Pascal Method.
Taylor Swift does this
no she doesnāt
You clearly don't go here or to queer history and signaling, or both, enough to have this conversation and I'm not going to explain it to you. You could have asked questions, you could have done even a modicum of research. You didn't and you made yourself look ignorant. Goodbye.
#I'm fucking crying#this is an instant classic#this is the next meme#i can't believe I'm here to see a baby copypasta nary two hours old#I can't#lol#i laughed way too hard#iconic
i went to queer history and signaling and i didnt see taylor swift
Tumblr actively hunts down and deletes legit trans womens blogs as a policy but encourages and cultivates porn bots that use stolen trans sex worker's content. This is propaganda and affects how we're viewed by other users, makes our own tags unusable for us, is unfathomably transmisogynistic, and reveals a lot about how staff views us. Our bodies are a commodity that they want on their website, but our words are not welcome.
all movies are for children because the moving image is inherently juvenile. to be entertained by it even moreso
Random tumblr blog roleplays as a philosopher. Shocks the masses by using big words just to say they think theyre better than you because you watch movies. WHHAAAAT?
thats right
the biggest word in this post is āentertainedā
As a transsexual woman š© who has had multiple experiences ā¼ļø I have found š that the biggest block of cheese š§ is usually the one āļø that has the largest size š
mature content
Today's LGBTQ+ Character of the day is
The Essential Worker (heavily implied)
given the current climate this pride especially i feel i must mention that i love my trans friends, i stand with trans people in the fight against transphobic legislation and those who would enforce it, and this blog is not a good place for you to be if you do not vibe with that
Four year old beekeeper distracted by a roly-poly.
Best picture in the world
How it feels to be mutuals with someone for over a year
Sonya Sklaroff - Rainbow Flag, 2017 - Oil on panel