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brain machine broke

@xdarkabyssx

Ray, he / they, 30, gay goth tw for guro art

They’re huge??????????

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bitchcraftandfashion

That’s……a fucking WOMBAT?!?!

i thought wombats were small. That looks photoshopped!

That’s Patrick! A wombat raised since he was a joey on a wildlife park in Victoria, Aussie, he’s known as both the oldest and biggest wombat we know of!

Most wombats average around 30 to 40 inches, so fat Pat is definitely an outlier. For comparison here’s a more ‘regular’ wombat. 

dynamaxed

WTF this is masterful, 10/10.

Other people have said this in notes, but the Bulwer-Lytton contest involves writing the most absurd opener you can think of and submitting it to the contest. It's not a judgment like the Razzies or the bad sex in books award or something; it's a game. Diana Murtaugh of Baltimore is to be congratulated for this win.

When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.

And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.

I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.

I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anyway.

And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.

Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?

I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could knit me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.

So my mom found the next best thing.

The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.

And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.

...

Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?

A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.

She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.

And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.

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singingwound-deactivated2024111

i’m trying to have a yaoi moment with you. man to man i’m trying to have a yaoi moment with you right now

lino prints!!!!! im gna do more in the future for sure i love doing these!!!! all are hand printed and hand carved by me <33 link

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Doodling in bed but I think these are the prettiest tefillin I've ever drawn...

My final project for my visual journalism class! we were asked to write an informational comic about any topic, and I chose to talk about the history of video games as a narrative medium!

Hey here's some unsolicited decor advice: get a bowl. put it on your coffee table. fill it with objects that are Good To Hold. Watch your guests be satisfied.

For example, I have this bowl of polished rock orbs. (and one glass ball.) they serve no purpose but everyone who comes into my home picks up at least one of them and just kinda rolls it around in their hands.

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Reblogged

What can I get for Jasper "Jibbler" Pringlefart, who eats SOAP! but is still stinky? He commits major crimes when the curly ear takes over, which may be a liability for the buyer. Thanks for your valuable service!

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Jasper Jibbler a real iconic stinker! The wild Jasper Jibbler now only $4.90! What a steal!

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All that AND he schlurps your fingers vacantly!

Now THAT'S a bargain!

The US-backed terrorist state of Israel killed Palestinian chef and co-founder of the Gaza Soup Kitchen, Mahmoud al-Madhoun.

Mahmoud was able to feed over 3,000 Palestinian civilians a day through the genocide.

Let's keep giving it all we've got for the Gaza Soup Kitchen. Israel has repeatedly targeted and killed those who have given service to the Gaza community.

Donate as much as you can or if you're unable to, share this post so it reaches more people! Any amount, even a dollar, can help the heroes of the Gaza Soup Kitchen to feed the people of Gaza.

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