Barguzin sable баргузинский соболь (Martes zibellina princeps)

📸 Артур Мурзаханов

Bread clip animals

commuting to the bit. yeah ill be there in about 40 minutes just keep stalling

okay so i work in the deli of a grocery store, yeah? and today i got this guy who came up with his two twin children, around five years old. he walks up to the counter, carrying one kid in each arm, and loudly goes "oh, no, i forgot what i wanted!" and turns to the boy in his left arm and, in a perfect blues clues style voice, goes "caleb, do you remember what i wanted?" and the boy goes "half pound of yellow cheese!"

i, obviously, say "you've got it little sir!" and slice up half a pound of yellow american cheese, handing it to the little boy, who looks it over, nods, and tucks it in his lap.

then the man goes "well, we can't just have cheese on our sandwiches. but what else can we put on there?" and the little gurl in his other arm goes "half pound of ham!" so i nod and say "yes ma'am! what kind?" and she points at a random cut of turkey, so her father nods and says "like she said, honey ham!" i cut half a pound of honey ham, hand it to the little lady, she looks it over, nods and puts it in her lap.

then the man goes "now, what should we have for the side?" and the kids both simultaneously start cheering "macking cheese!!!" and the man spins on his heel and marches off, presumably to find the macking cheese.

later, the little boy comes wandering back to the counter while his father looks on and loudly and proudly proclaims that he wants to know where the mustard is. i point him to the correct aisle, he nods, says "thank you mister deli woman" and walks away.

also, its sister tweet:

How could you forget:

Had to add this gem

Pouring one out for Poison Junior.

I freehanded this stitchery in about 7 hours today for a pal:

It was, of course, inspired by this post:

fascinated by the nurse who did my mental health assessment who was apparently so allergic to the concept of they/them pronouns that they unprompted decided i'm a she/he instead. it's so bizzare it kind of loops back around to based tbh. i'll take it.

[Image IDs: three sections of text: "He describes her pace as very slow;" "He takes her medications on her own accord" Suicidal Ideation: She sometimes has thoughts of ending his life" /end]

transphobia does some wild shit huh

today forrest went to repeat something i had said, paused, and then squatted down a foot shorter and continued imitating me. so i killed him. he is dead now everyone. gay love is over

Concept: cursed blade rehabilitation center. Destroying a sentient weapon is expensive and highly unethical, so adventurers bring them to the center where highly trained staff can care for them and eventually find them forever homes. It turns out most cursed weapons are products of trauma and are not strictly evil themselves. Some blades turn out to be fiercely protective companions. Others don't even want to be weapons at all, finding joy in simple work like blacksmithing or farming. Most blades just need to be loved.

A pack of bandits descend upon a seemingly undefended town. But the blacksmith's hammer, the farmer's scythe, the woodsman's axe, they have not forgotten what they once were, and they *will* defend the town that they have come to love.

This sweet girl has been with us for seven seasons. She was forged in the heart of a volcano and would be ideal for anyone with a preexisting fire affinity (she's a cuddler and is guaranteed to keep you warm in winter). She still loves burning, but it turns out you can only reduce the world to ash once. She would be perfectly suited for forest management that regularly requires controlled burns.

This weary old soul has grown tired of bloodshed and would much rather spend his days as an ominous decoration in a tavern or common room, a perfect fit for an adventurer looking to leave their dungeon crawling days behind. He likes peoplewatching with his single glowing eye, preferably from high, prominent locations with views of entrances and exits.

Dark king Grütmore’s edge of annihilation consumed 10,000 souls in the first era, and as it turns out, statistically a lot of those souls heard stories that never got written down. It works in a library now.

The throngler, however, is just irrevocably fucked up. We put it in a stone in a forest and hoped nobody ever finds it

New bunny just dropped (prairie chicken)

Jonathan Stalling’s Yingelishi is a book of poetry that is read in two ways: in Chinese and in English. He offers a line of English poetry, then rewrites it phonetically in the Chinese language, so that the new line in Chinese has its own unique and coherent meaning, which is then translated back into English. The end result is a poem existing in multiple languages and in no languages at all, with multiple meanings that can be read many ways.


[Image ID: A line that reads, “早上好” which is Simplified Chinese for “good morning.” Then a line of English text that reads, “good morning,” followed by a line of pinyin or possibly a different method of transliterated Chinese that reads, “gũ dé mào níng.” Then a line of Chinese characters which reads, “孤德貌宁,” phonically the same as the above pinyin, followed by a line of English text which is the translation of the above Chinese, reading, “Even alone, the moral one / appears peaceful.” End image ID.]

From the book ad copy:

I FUCKING LOVE NYLE xkjsjndkjansd

I fucking love repurposing old shit into new stuff. Currently sewing together two shoulder straps from an old purse I originally got for the studs, with the buckle of a studded belt I also originally got to dismantle for the studs, in order to make another buckled strap to sew onto my pants, which I turned into zip-off jorts with the power of zippers I also got from a different dismantled thrift shop purse.

Grabbing stuff that nobody else wanted or needed, taking it apart into bare materials, and sewing it all back together in the shape of me.

Dressing entirely in silver and black, it occurred to me that it'd be fun and cool if someone was doing the opposite of that - scavenging thrift shops for everything in white and gold, to put them together in gothy/alt/punk style, same shape but more glam.

Then the devil on my shoulder pointed out that I could do that. Once I run out of my regular clothes that I could mod, I could build one whole white+gold outfit and have a Secret Shiny Version of me to wear on special occasions.

twisting and bitturning

mourning dove my love