The emotional backbone of a wet sock

Work vacuum died. This is the fifth one since I started working here five years ago.

The first one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The second one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The third one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The fourth one died for unknown reasons that involved my coworker vacuuming up rocks.

The fifth one died a few minutes ago and it was a big mystery and my coworker was like “oh I don’t know what happened it just overtaxed for some reason” so I looked inside the hose and—get this—it was jammed with rocks.

He keeps buying bigger and more expensive vacuums and complaining about how shitty and faulty the last ones were and every time I suggest something like “what if you didn’t vacuum up rocks” he’s like oh no it is the vacuums who are wrong.

hey guys guess what happened again just now

leer este tipo de publicaciones que en mi caso se traducen automáticamente al castellano es muy loco... por que decía "vacío" en vez de vacuum y hasta que no llegue al final de la publicación en serio creí que sus compañeros de trabajo murieron por consumir alguna droga a la que llamaba rocas... cuando me dije esto suena raro y saque el traductor y leí vacuum pude buscar que es eso y resulto ser una aspiradora jajajaja haaa nunca me aburro!

Synthetic biology

"who cares, they'll put a poster over it" an old man says as I am scrubbing sharpie off a public poster holder "diversity kills" it said, and then a city name where one supposed islamist attack had happened and i am thinking of the endless list and the statistics of all the far right neonazi terrorists

"i care, i do and i've got nothing better to do with my life than to scrub this graffiti on my lunch break" "why, its so much work and its not worth it" he says again, and neither of his questions really seemed like questions

I care because I love my friends I care because I love the muslim members of our broad community I care because I hate those fascist fucks but by the Gods

I love the people that they hurt much more and in the blinding sunlight of this early spring that means that i am scrubbing sharpie off a public poster holder while some old man asks questions without questionmarks

Work vacuum died. This is the fifth one since I started working here five years ago.

The first one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The second one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The third one died because my coworker vacuumed up rocks.

The fourth one died for unknown reasons that involved my coworker vacuuming up rocks.

The fifth one died a few minutes ago and it was a big mystery and my coworker was like “oh I don’t know what happened it just overtaxed for some reason” so I looked inside the hose and—get this—it was jammed with rocks.

He keeps buying bigger and more expensive vacuums and complaining about how shitty and faulty the last ones were and every time I suggest something like “what if you didn’t vacuum up rocks” he’s like oh no it is the vacuums who are wrong.

hey guys guess what happened again just now

a love letter to weasels ❤️🩷

Remember that Day is always gonna be having a worse day than you

Quick what are you doing RIGHT now (besides scrolling Tumblr)

guys..... I'm re-entering my klance era...... and I redrew this old comic to start us off <3

more thoughts under the cut ⬇️

I want a fic where Lance and Keith are being hush hush about their relationship but they still keep bickering (always about petty, mundane stuff) and this is how everyone finds out space dad is confused

You know, I’ve always been a Soriel guy at heart