Tumblr of Things
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I know it’s the meds but I am just so full of anxiety
I feel like I’m vibrating
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Water Snake from Team Fortress 2
this isn’t low poly
Isn’t this the highest poly model in the entire game?
yes it is by miles
(via grandma-kei)
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(via sparrowsabre7)
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potatoes non grata
persona au gratin
(via nverlorneverstand)
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Not seeing the issue here. This is the epitome of art
(via nverlorneverstand)
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I think the most humiliating object in the world is the Fleshlight sleeve warmer
Its only purpose is to slide into your fleshlight and get it to body temp. It’s $30. I want to get every single man who owns one of these into one room and make them do long-form improv
Jail!
Different Jail!
Is… is there a Fleshlight sleeve chiller?
Death Penalty
(via magic-8-bong)
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I would like to share with you all some absolutely raw advice my mom gave me about my anxiety today
(via guns-in-the-valley)
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(via guns-in-the-valley)
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I love this meme because I think humans 10,000 years ago or 100,000 years ago would also like it
the heat of the fire draws air straight up from the center over the fire. This draws the air in from the sides in a circle around the fire creating an air current, which means air is being blown toward the fire from all sides. When you sit on one side of the fire, it blocks some of the air moving toward the fire from that side. Now there is more air being blown toward the fire from the side opposite you. This pushes the smoke your direction. When you move to the other side, it just makes the same thing happen over there. The smoke actually literally does follow you around no matter where you sit. Because physics.
in other words what you actually need at the fire is other people sitting around the fire with you to balance it out ;~;
(via magic-8-bong)
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Imagine being the only person alive who can say this
buzz aldrin and neil armstrong liked to do a thing where they’d tell unfunny jokes at parties about being on the moon and when people were confused they’d go “guess you had to have been there”
There are 4 moon walkers still alive as of today.
Buzz Aldrin (Apollo 11)
Dave Scott (Apollo 15)
Charlie Duke (Apollo 16)
Harrison Schmitt (Apollo 17)
(via kausing-khaos)
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Sorry to all of the people who had to flee book Twitter because of Elon. I can simulate it for you right here though!
Author who wrote a YA book called something like “Crown of Suck and Bone”: I wish I could put my English teacher down with a bolt gun for making me read Shakespeare instead of REAL literature like Love Simon in high school
Former Ana Mardoll reply guy: This. LITERALLY this. Expecting people like me, who have synesthesia, to read Shakespeare is rooted in
Person whose profile pic is Dostoevsky w/ huge naturals: I hope the world blows up tomorrow
History twitter is the same thing but it’s like
Twentysomething woman who reads nothing but self-insert romances: Actually, in the original myth, Hades was a wealthy CEO who respected women, and I wish I could slaughter my history professor with a rusty sword and dump him in a shallow grave for making us read Problematic Myths instead of Lore Olympus
Byzantine Empire enthusiast with the weirdest most contradictory theological opinions you’ve ever heard: If you aren’t GOOD at SEX your CHILDREN will never have SOULS,,,, PRAISE JESUS ☦️ IT’S OKAY TO CHEAT ON YOUR HUSBANDS ❤️🔥
Guy who calls himself “The Western Traditionalist Philosopher Stoic Sigma Male”: DAE think the Nazis were right?
dude you reblogged this post from me
(via poorpoorpitifulme)
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Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.
Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.
Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.
You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.
As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.
Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.
This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.
A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.
(via magic-8-bong)
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I want my cow pictures!!!!!!!
