To jim nezávidím...
Cosimo Galluzzi

tannertan36
ojovivo

Love Begins

oozey mess
Three Goblin Art

#extradirty
Game of Thrones Daily
i don't do bad sauce passes
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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Janaina Medeiros

Product Placement
DEAR READER
Mike Driver

pixel skylines
todays bird
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Jules of Nature

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@wiijpeiifh
To jim nezávidím...
věk: konečně se mi podařil oukej kuřecí vývar hudební vkus: zapnutá pračka padající ze schodů, zatímco někdo ve sklepě hraje na harfu elegii oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: takový to když štěněcí bříško ale ještě mu prosvítá kůže protože nemá zatim dost chlupů zájmena: ajaj/aj
štítkuju (se všemi privilegii dobrovolné participace a přidejte se klidně bez oštítkování) @rumcajs-kin, @zraloci-cpr, @framestreetnightingale ♥
věk: hledám perfektní smaltovaný hrnec, který může do trouby, abych mohla opět péct chleba a nechci za něj utratit celou výplatu
hudební vkus: záhada i mně samotné, možná si na to skočím do kola, možná budu vrtět zadkem a nebo budu jen brečet
oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: když ti u hlavy usne kočka, zatímco dáváš na home officu šlofíček místo obědovky
zájmena: ona/její
štítkuju: @vcelkapaja @myvalzpival @kujupikle @therewithinthestars samozřejmě kdokoli další, kdo se chce přidat
věk: vstávam se slepicema, ale chodím spát až po nich
hudební vkus: ta náhodná píseň, která ti začne hrát po přehrání celého playlistu na Spoofy. Nevíš, jak se tam dostala, ani to, proč po ní nehraje nic dalšího.
oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: když si na mě lehne kočka. Mohla si vybrat a vybrala si, že si lehne na mě.
zájmena: they/nedám
štítkuji: @trustworthy-liar @duch-z-bramboroveho-pytle @nonbinaryeye a samozřejmě kdokoliv, kdo bude chtít!
Věk: alkohol přestavá chutnat jako zábava ale bolest celého fyzického i astrálního těla
Hudební vkus: letadlo přistává na miliony pískacích kachniček
Oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: noční toulání se městem a lesem
Zájmena: AAAAAA/KUAAAAAA
Štítkuji: @zelvuska @ur4niumgl4ss @kejklir @ailathemoodentity @kat-e-cz @srouby-a-matice
Věk: Co to dělám se svým životem/Je tohle v pohodě?????
Hudební vkus: chaos.
Oblíbený vesmírný aspekt: Dlouhé noční cesty autem
Zájmena: ona/její
Štítkuju: @znam-jednu-malou-zahradu @terysak @small-angry-turtle @happylittleghost + kdokoliv chce ať se připojí!
Vek: v príbehoch o tínedžeroch začínam viac súhlasiť s rodičmi ako s protagonistami
Hudobný vkus: moje spektrum sa neustále rozširuje. Rozmýšľam, že skúsim robiť elektronickú hudbu
Obľúbený aspekt vesmíru: keď ma kocúr otravuje na záchode
Zámená: on/ona/ono
Štítkujem: @ailathemoodentity, @cervenakoviny, na viac si nedokážem spomenúť
Vek - By som touto dobou mala byť už ďalej, než som.
Hudobný vkus - Tak rôzne. Od soundtrackov a iných inštrumentálov, cez melodickejší metal, k rocku, folku a čo-ja-viem-čo-je-to-za-žáner. Aj pop veci sa u mňa vyskytnú, aj tancujúca huslistka. Špeciálna zmienka patrí Wii Music.
Obľúbený aspekt vesmíru - Keď sa ráno zobudím a všade je ticho a modré šero.
Zámená - Ja, moje, mnou, mne, mňa.
Štítkujem - @biksarddedrak @carostrelec @know-ill-keep-moving @minetteskvareninova @reshiiii
Vek: budem kachličkovať kuchyňu v našom prvom spoločnom bývaní, ale najprv pre mňa musí prísť maminka, lebo som chorá
Hudobný vkus: krásne škrabká mozog a viem to vyvreskovať pri 8hod jazde, kedy som nespala už druhým dňom. Also. Šermiari a Vrbovské vrby
Obľúbený aspekt vesmíru: keď si to naše štendo všimne, že už sme hore a začne ňufáčikom krtkovať do periny lebo!!!!!!!!!!!*chrochtopŕsk a drb do rámu postele, kých*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Zámená: teta (cz)?/ Teta. (sk)
Štítkujem: @guarddogbitch @chlap a kto koľvek chce a nemá zámienku. Už máte🌞
Věk: Mám rok na to abych najela na schedule svých rodičů
Hudební vkus:Od skandinávských metlošů po běloruský gothwave
Oblíbený vesmírný aspekt: Vstávání ráno na táboře a zdravení se se všemi ospalými účastníky cestou do kuchyně kde nachystám velkou konvici kafe
Zájmena: ona/ono/jejich
Jestli to vidíte, považujte se za ostitkovane, jestli nechcete, nepovažujte se.
Věk: na balkóně pěstuju dvacet rajčat (dvacet rostlin), ale ještě jsem nikdy nic nezavařovala. Kamarádce jsem řekla "tenhle seriál se ti bude líbit za deset let".
Hudební vkus: mělo by to obsahovat aspoň jeden hudební nástroj, který dokáže správně identifikovat maximálně 0,01% světové populace, a nesmí se to moc belhat.
Oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: když se znenadání usměje neznámý člověk. Vlastně když se usměje kdokoli.
Zájmena: počkej sekundu *poodchází*, někde jsem to tu *přerovnává nějaký papíry* měla určitě *kouká do šuplíku* napsaný...
Já tady nikoho neznám...
enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to
Which animal gives off the most polite vibe?
Bear
Donkey
Owl
Giraffe
Earthworm
Help me settle a debate with my friends! If it seems difficult to choose that's normal, we've already dealt with the animals that are easy to sort (e.g. goats and mice are the two extremes on the spectrum of animal civility) and these are the more dicey choices that are on a similar level of perceived politeness.
Machines vote for owl:
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvoje dítě si z rozmlácenýho kostela v krabici s kusem mýdla přineslo anděla, kterýmu polámali křídla, ale pokračuj
“Mé dítě je v pořádku” Tvoje dítě stojí s dlouhou kravatou na bedně od whiskey a nabádá ostatní, aby do ní kopli.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvoje dítě do písku poskládalo tři kříže z bílýho kamení, slzy v očích mělo a v ruce znavený drží lodní deník, ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvé dítě jde s děravou patou, má horečku zlatou, je chudé, slabé a nemocné ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvé dítě už půjde spát, však vlajku Ascalony nechte nad hrobem jeho navěky vlát... Ale pokračuj.
“Mé dítě je v pořádku”
Tvoje dítě se v mládí učilo hrobařem, jezdit z hlínou, jezdit s trakařem, ale pokračuj
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Tvoje dítě schová studený nohy doma pod peřinou a ráno kafe dá si hustý jako tér, ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Tvoje dítě má velkou hlavu jak pytel od banánů, ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Na tvoje dítě ze zdi tupě zírá po trezoru temná díra, ale pokračuj.
"Mé děti jsou v pořádku."
Tvoje děti nejedí, nepijí, jenom dělají pravá noha, levá noha..., ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvoje dítě má gatě s ďurama svazane šňurama a chodí na výzvědy do butiku
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvoje dítě zpívá v psychiatrický léčebně ovečce že už má jít spát protože se zítra přijdou ptát jestli v jejich představách už mizí, ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Tvoje dítě ví, že na druhé straně linie, oči dvě pod přilbou, jako on člověk je, noci a dny pod palbou, kdyby ho jinde potkal, dal by mu cigaretu, a teď se modlí, aby skončil jen v lazaretu, ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvoje dítě chce snít ve stínu pod fíky, poslouchat slavíky, zpívat si s nima a pít, ale pokračuj
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Tvému dítěti řikal znamy dole v baře, že s tu hlavu moh by do Milionaře, ale pokračuj.
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Tvé dítě oči má sněhem zaváté, v duši má temný stín, ale pokračuj
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Tvému dítěti déšť smáčel vlasy, z jeho očí zbyl prázdnej kruh, a kde jsou zbytky jeho krásy, to ví dneska jenom Bůh, ale pokračuj
"Mé dítě je v pořádku"
Tvé dítě je ostudou traperů, má rádo operu, má rádo jazz, rock, ale pokračuj
"Mé dítě je naprosto v pořádku"
Tvé dítě postává a směje se času, s cigaretou a s holkou, co nemá kam jít, ale pokračuj
"Mé dítě je v pořádku."
Tvý dítě si každý ráno zuje boty, orosí si nohy v trávě a doufá, že se maj lidi rádi, ale pokračuj
Oh fuck this shit.
Coming out again and again, each time another parent of a kid in daycare asks whether we wanna have a playdate because our kids seem to like each other.
Even in this country, one of the most tolerant ones in the world. Each time a parent that comes from a different culture (and we got lots here) doesn't say hi when we meet in the shop or where have you, it's: maybe they didn't recognize me? Maybe I had done something wrong? Or, uh, did they finally notice that their kid's friend in daycare has two mommies?
I guess it should just always be the first thing out of my mouth. Hi, my name is, and I have a wife, if you don't like it, fuck off straight away.
And maybe they're allies but just don't like me! I'll never know. Fucking fantastic.
Dnešní sága "Pes, otec a dítě"
Já: *sedí se psem před barákem na lavičce a nechává ho chladit si bříško v trávě*
Pán s asi tříletou dcerkou: *vyjde před barák*
dětské_pištění.wav
Holčička: ŠŤĚŇATKO.
Já: Chceš si ho pohladit? :)
Otec: Může??
Já: Jasný, Arnie se kamarádí rád. Viď, Arníku?
Arnie: *kamarádí se MOC rád, hlavně s dětma*
Holčička: *nadšeně se vydá za štěnětem*
Arnie: *zří kamaráda, nadšeně se vydá za holčičkou*
náhlý_hlasitý_pláč_protože_ta_věc_se_hejbe.png
Arnie: *stojí dva metry od dítěte, kde se vychovaně zastavil, než se vůbec stihli potkat, a zmateně se snaží přijít na to, jakou stranou těla se sedá, aby se mohl divit v pohodlí*
Holčička: *běží s pronikavým pláčem za otcem*
dospělí_v_kolektivní_panice.jpg
Otec: Neboj, to je štěňátko- on tě jen rád vidí, tak se k tobě rozešel-
ještě_hlasitější_pláč.mp3
Já: Neboooj, zlato! Víš, on tě nechtěl vylekat, viď, Arnie-
jak_se_utěšuje_cizí_dítě.txt
nemotorné_zvuky_otcovské_empatie_v_podkresu.xhtml
Otec: Chceš jít radši domu a nechat štěňátko být?
Holčička, s okamžitým hněvem: NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
kvílení_dosahuje_bodu_porušujícího_legislativu_o_maximální_hlasitosti_veřejného_koncertu.midi
Já: ...víš- víš- on je miminko! On je maličkej, úplně jak ty. Podívej! Arnie, pocem-
vyčkávavá_pauza_v_kvílení.aif
Já: *názorně vezme Arnieho do náruče jako mimino*
Holčička: *okamžitý řehot*
dobrý_doprdele_neposral_jsem_to_víc.odp
Já: Vidíš? Malinkej. Von ještě vůbec nic neví.
Arnie: *zcela zjevně vůbec nic neví*
Holčička: *nadšené písknutí*
otec_se_zdráhavě_přestává_potit.zip
Já: Chceš si ho jít pohladit teď, když ho držim? :)
Holčička: JO!!!!
štěně_a_tříleté_dítě_šťastně_shledáni.mp4
Otec, po chvíli: Tak co, dem domu?
Holčička: *souhlasně hladí*
Já, k Arniemu: To sis udělal hodnou kámošku, viď?? Řekni "Děkuju!", Arnie! :)
Holčička, nechápající, že mluvím k Arniemu: *zamává* Děkuju, Álný!!!
budu_brečet_jak_je_todle_kurva_roztomilý.gif
Otec s holčičkou: *odejdou dovnitř*
Álný: *furt vůbec nic neví, kromě toho, že někdo udělal divnej zvuk a pak ho dotyčný mocně miloval*
KONEC
Nikdo:
Náš pan domovní na inspekci rozbitýho topení, když mu najednou kolem hlavy proletěl Tymiánek alias místní maličká andulka vlnkovaná: “DOPRKURVALE, OREL-”
Z cyklu “Domovník versus predátor”.
jednou nám ve škole vlétl do třídy oknem čmelák a fyzikářka byla jakože “Hele, děcka, kolibřík!”
Vyvolání mému batolecímu já, co jednou vyburcovalo svou matku tím, že začalo křičet “MAMINKO, SOVA! NA OKNĚ JE SOVA”, načež dobrá žena vletěla do pokojíku s nadšeným křikem “KDE, KDE?!” a na okně vajbí vosa
Připomíná mi to ségru, která v krásném, nevinném věku šesti let pohlédla z můstku z břehu Vltavy k botelu Admirál na to, co se pod ním hemžilo, a zvolala HELE SYSEL
your new gender is whatever you last ate (u r what u eat.)
my gender is sweet potato
my gender is toast
Wren gives out lexa vibes
How do you imagine the climate crisis will affect you, your animals and your rural life in general? Are you doing anything in particular to try to mitigate the effects?
I think about it a lot. Then try to focus on the present day and the near future so as not to feel hopeless. I was talking with a farmer neighbour the other day about hay—the year I moved here the harvest was ruined by several heat waves and prolonged drought (people actually had to feed hay to their animals in summer as there was no grass to eat, and I bought my animals for very cheap because a lot of farms had to sell parts of their herds lest they start depleting their winter’s supply of hay in July); then last year there was an insane hailstorm that left pastures looking like they'd been crushed by bulldozers; and this year we’ve had torrents of rain almost every day since summer started. I was like, that didn't use to happen, did it? and he said no, no, it's not normal for the harvest to be ruined by a different crazy weather event every single year.
Trees are more resilient to extreme weather than grass so I tried making tree hay last year and the animals ate it just fine; and I'll continue clearing my overgrown second pasture so I can make my own hay in the future and hopefully be self-sufficient when it comes to my animals’ food supply. So I guess my thought experiments re: climate change so far don't go any further than "What if one summer I can't buy any hay?" Reading about people who go a lot further and are actively stockpiling supplies or learning how to be self-sufficient in every way in preparation for the future petrifies me, people who are so determined to survive any level of dystopian future feel unrelatable and kind of scary.
We often have long power cuts in the autumn & winter here and sometimes I'm like, well let’s see how I would fare if society collapsed and there’s no electricity—in many ways it feels more manageable here than it would be in a city, as I have sources of water (that can also keep perishable foods cool) and a wood stove I can cook on, but in reality I would not last very long nor want to. What I find really scary is less a hazy notion of societal collapse and more the looming threat of violent fascism and resource wars—war is such an enormous waste of resources, energy, human potential, and the idea that we would waste it on destructive actions, to create more misery, at a time when we desperately need these dwindling resources for constructive ends, is mind-numbingly depressing.
One way of bracing myself for the future that doesn’t make me feel anxious is being friends & exchanging small services with the people from my local community, which reminds me that people enjoy sustaining small communities and helping others without monetary incentive and perhaps this will endure despite everything.
I'm building a greenhouse so I can grow more food over a longer growing season, and would also like to plant fruit trees and to rehabilitate the former pond and stock it with edible fish, but it's more because it makes me happy to participate in the informal food gift-economy with my neighbours and offer nice meals to the city friends who visit me, and because eating my own food would allow me to buy less stuff (esp. plastic-packaged stuff), than in a spirit of preparation for a bleak future. I try to focus on the few things I can control (driving my car as seldom as I can, not flying, not having kids, not ordering stuff online and not buying unneeded things, having mostly hobbies that don’t involve consumption or technology) and keep the rest at bay.
I felt terrified of global warming as a kid (I’m not sure why, because in the late 90s the general discourse was overall reassuring, we still talked mostly of “the greenhouse effect” and adults were like “this is something your grandchildren will have to worry about towards the end of the next century if we don’t do something about it, but I’m sure we will, look, we just signed the Kyoto Protocol!”—I would have been so traumatised growing up now.) I remember reading an 1850s book in which the author made enthusiastic predictions about the year 2000 and thinking, wow, imagine having this wide a horizon. Trying to picture society 150 years from now and not hitting a mental wall. On my birthday I used to think, “well at least I made it to age [10, 11, 12] and things were okay. No matter what happens from now on at least I got to live ten okay years before it happened.” I still kind of think like this, I go on a walk like “right now the natural world is beautiful despite everything”, focusing on what’s at hand rather than future conjectures, which feels like taking shallow breaths for fear of smelling smoke, I tell myself “at least this week was good”, “this lovely thing happened today”, it’s a strange kind of contented despair. Desperate contentment.
“Is it possible to see the future as dark and darkening further; to reject false hope and desperate pseudo-optimism without collapsing into despair? What, at this moment in history, would not be a waste of my time? If you don’t feel despair, in times like these, you are not fully alive. But there has to be something beyond despair too; or rather, something that accompanies it, like a companion on the road.” (x)
your blackberry-frangipane pie looks delicious! would you be willing to share your recipe?
1. The frangipane filling is super simple: - 2 eggs, - 40g melted butter, - 100g sugar, - 125g ground almonds. Stir with fork until you get something that feels creamy and grainy and right. Spread it evenly on whichever crust you usually use for fruit pie (I use a pâte sablée)
2. Then add enough blackberries to cover it all, as shown above, but without having several layers of berries (you don’t want to smother your frangipane). I have no idea how much that is, I’ve never bothered to weigh my berries—maybe 200g? more? I don’t know :( You can also try to replace the blackberries with other fruit and see what happens (and let me know!)
3. Then in the oven for 40min at 200°C. My oven is a weak old beast so that’s what works for me, but in my grandma’s state of the art oven it was done after 30min at 180°C so just... check on your pie anxiously the first time. And bake until the frangipane in the centre no longer looks too raw. If it looks raw-er than on the periphery that’s perfectly normal.
My grandmother used to separate some berries from their sisters and mix them with the frangipane, in order to get a beautiful pink-hued frangipane that “didn’t clash with the colour of the berries”. Her pies looked like a sunset on the wine-dark sea and mine look like I enjoy taking the path of least resistance.
The least resistance it is!
good morning gay people, men who are shorter than 6’, people who are preheating their ovens, vampires who refrain from drinking human blood for moral reasons, apex predators, people who gave The Room (2005) 5 stars on letterboxd, and classical oil painters
good afternoon to people who cut their own hair, lead and secondary vocalists, Microsoft excel users, the fashionably late, thom Yorke from radiohead, people who drive shitty cars, skateboarders, mall kiosk employees, and David the cashier from the smiths by my house
good night to my chemical romance enthusiasts, crustaceans from the cambrian period, men who know nothing about sports, people with radiation poisoning, girls with insect like appendages, tea drinkers, city slickers, and people who drink oat milk
I have been called out exactly twice in each instance
what is one line of poetry/writing that lives in ur head rent free please share i would like to know
it wouldn’t reward the watcher to stay awake in hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break on his particular time and personal sight. That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night
-Robert Frost, “On Looking Up By Chance at the Constellations”
I know he's blood but you can still turn him away you don't owe him anything
idk if its bc of the calming, wise persona you present online (not that you are not those things irl, but i wouldnt be able to attest to that) but something makes me wanna tell you everything about my day and listen to everything abt yours as well
Thank you for this nice ask! My ideal microblogging platform now that I think about it would be one where people only make 1 post a day, in which they share one pleasant or interesting thing about their day. Like a nicer Twitter. Call it Chipper. The posts would be automatically queued so they would all appear around the same time, so you aren’t tempted to check the platform compulsively many times a day but know that at 8am or 8pm (up to you) your daily batch of little nice news from people you follow will be delivered like a paper on your doorstep. For me this week it would be:
Monday: I started reading a poetry collection by astronomer Rebecca Elson; lovely timing because a late June evening in the pasture was the ideal setting to read some of these
Tuesday: I wanted to write a little update about Pampe’s education but I didn’t have my phone with me to take a picture and she is being so good lately I end up not having anything very interesting to say. “I put the halter on her and made her walk around a bit and she was very calm.” Boring. Well-behaved llamas seldom make history.
Wednesday: I read in a book about a French 18th-century philosopher (Maupertuis, son of the pirate Maupertuis who was knighted by Louis XIV) that he once told Madame de la Ferté-Imbault “your gaiety will last forever, because it is based on nothing.” I like the idea of groundless gaiety being the most dependable form of happiness.
Thursday: I am currently sitting near a little lake and I wanted to wait a bit longer to see what it would look like when the sun sets, but it’s starting to rain. But it was already beautiful in the early evening light:
I think the only thing that’s right about this is that the problem involves a beethoven symphony and that’s about it
beethoven’s 9th but every time you assasinate one of the musicians it gets slower
He walked straight out of college into the waiting arms of the Navy.
They gave him an intelligence test. The first question on the math part had to do with boats on a river: Port Smith is 100 miles upstream of Port Jones. The river flows at 5 miles per hour. The boat goes through water at 10 miles per hour. How long does it take to go from Port Smith to Port Jones? How long to come back?
Lawrence immediately saw that it was a trick question. You would have to be some kind of idiot to make the facile assumption that the current would add or subtract 5 miles per hour to or from the speed of the boat. Clearly, 5 miles per hour was nothing more than the average speed. The current would be faster in the middle of the river and slower at the banks. More complicated variations could be expected at bends in the river. Basically it was a question of hydrodynamics, which could be tackled using certain well-known systems of differential equations. Lawrence dove into the problem, rapidly (or so he thought) covering both sides of ten sheets of paper with calculations. Along the way, he realized that one of his assumptions, in combination with the simplified Navier Stokes equations, had led him into an exploration of a particularly interesting family of partial differential equations. Before he knew it, he had proved a new theorem. If that didn’t prove his intelligence, what would?
Then the time bell rang and the papers were collected. Lawrence managed to hang onto his scratch paper. He took it back to his dorm, typed it up, and mailed it to one of the more approachable math professors at Princeton, who promptly arranged for it to be published in a Parisian mathematics journal.
Lawrence received two free, freshly printed copies of the journal a few months later, in San Diego, California, during mail call on board a large ship called the U.S.S. Nevada. The ship had a band, and the Navy had given Lawrence the job of playing the glockenspiel in it, because their testing procedures had proven that he was not intelligent enough to do anything else.
— Cryptonomicon, Neal Stephenson
Please quote Cryptonomicon at me...
OH. My. God.
Goddamnanit.
BAH!!! Hahahaha!!!
I love everything about this.
How dare you