daddy's bastard, very strong

free my girl she did all that and should’ve fucking done even more

Alongside the lovely lady we also have the wonderful woman and the great gal.

They are not kissing. Stop saying that they are kissing.

WHY AREN'T YOU FOOLS FOLLOWING MY ORDERS?!

sorry i was distracted by his tits. Were you saying something

I’m so proud of senshi for making it so far in the tumblr sexyman poll. I think it’s so beautiful that tumblr has reached a point where a short fat hairy bearded man is the pinnacle of sexuality for a large swath of this userbase. it’s like when you see before & after pictures of a rainforest recovering from deforestation. nature is healing and we can fight god

I hope he wins so someone will have to explain to ryoko kui what a tumblr sexyman is

I have to say I forgot the onceler’s thing was cutting down trees when I made my metaphor.

the forest is also a metaphor for his bush

calling things "cutes" is so uh. what's a good word for when something is cute but slightly more cute

the word cutes is autological

I am a glorified office administrator who understands server hardware why am I the only person in this company who gets what social engineering is?

“Social engineering” is a way too fancy word for what it is. I know a guy (not personally) who broke several people out of prison by essentially writing “Greetings, please release this person, signed, whoever the judge is” on a piece of paper and faxing it there. Because no one would have a fax machine in their own house I guess.

not to derail, but holy shit that praxis

I’ve had clerks just give out a whole ass SSN when I asked.

An inspection in 2014 found the password for the Louvre’s surveillance camera system was “louvre.”

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.