We're all just stories in the end

You gotta be really publicly passionate about things if you want your friends to text you. Bc people will forget to text you because they’re human. But if you’re really openly the friend who loves identifying ants your friends will think of you when they see ants. And they’ll text you “what ant is this [blurry photo]”. And then they’ll ask you how you’ve been and we should get coffee sometime. But if they don’t know what you love they’ll never know what you like

And then when the ant convention is in town they’ll be like dude… we should go to the ant convention. But they would never think to go if they didn’t know u loved ants

And sometimes you need to ask them to go to the ant convention. But you Will not get anywhere hiding your passions

I am always saying this!

HOW DOES ONE "ACCIDENTALLY" BECOME EMPEROR?

um☝️I also have the bisexual swag

DELETE YOUR BLOG

This counts as a spell

Placeable AOE effect

literally the worst way of ending a series is “all the survivors are happily straight married with tons and tons of babies!” 

people still getting mad at this post i made in 2014 so I will add here. in 2026. that the point of this post isn’t “happy endings bad” its when the story’s only way to imagine a happy ending is a heterosexual nuclear family for everyone.

The tumblrest sentence I have ever seen

I love living in 2026 because I go to Home Depot and buy a 5-gallon bucket for $4. I say I do not want an email receipt. They know my email anyway because I once ordered a mop online. They email me to ask how I like my 5-gallon bucket. I do not reply. They email me again. They would like my feedback. Reminder ‼️I have purchases to review. Did my 5 gallon bucket live up to my expectations? 3 minute survey!!

*clueless guy in 2006 voice* that iPhone? What a piece of junk. People are never gonna use a phone without a keyboard. I wish there was a way I could be a girl

it’s quick, it’s easy and it’s free:  pouring river water in your socks

why would i do that lmao

it’s quick, it’s easy and it’s free

“packmate” is a very good word to describe how i feel about some people. like we’re more than friends in my eyes but it’s not romantic you’re just. my person and im #keeping you. because you’re in my pack. wags my tail

Now, a skirt that’s too long will be harder to work in–skirts brushing the floor may look elegant, but is also a tripping hazard–but that is not a problem with skirts in general, it’s a problem with that particular skirt not being suited to being worked in. Skirts are very practical. You can hike them up if you’re hot or need more freedom to maneuver (this is called “girding your loins”). If you need to carry something, you can lift up your hem and make a pouch just like the person in yellow in the bottom picture above. If you need to handle something hot, a skirt generally has enough material you can hold it out from your body to use as a hot pad. (Tight skirts were only used by people who didn’t need to work/move until the invention of elastic fabric.)

Historically, skirts have been the garment of choice for almost every culture, gender and class. Breeches, or pants, were created specifically for riding horses.

Polite version of i want that twink obliterated

oh my goodness, one of dian fossey’s first close up observations with gorillas happened when she was trying to climb a tree to see them better, but so badly that by the time she’d gotten up the entire group had come out of hiding to look at her: “Nearly all members of the group had totally exposed themselves, forgetting about hiding coyly behind foliage screens because it was obvious to them that the observer had been distracted by tree-climbing problems, an activity they could understand.”

hello, fellow apes

[Image transcript: porch. The group had been day-nesting and sunbathing when I contacted them, but upon my approach they nervously retreated to obscure themselves behind thick foliage. Frustrated but determined to see them better, I decided to climb a tree, not one of my better talents. The tree was particularly slithery and, try as I might, no amount of puffing, pulling, gripping, or clawing succeeded in getting me more than a few feet aboveground. Disgustedly, I was about to give up when Sanwekwe came to my aid by giving one mighty boost to my protruding rump; tears were running from his eyes as he was convulsed in silent laughter. I felt as inept as a baby taking its first step. Finally able to grab on to a conveniently placed branch, I hauled myself up into a respectful semislouch position in the tree about twenty feet from the ground. By this time I naturally assumed that the combined noises of panting, cursing, and branch-breaking made during the initial climbing attempts must have frightened the group on to the next mountain. I was amazed to look around and find that the entire group had returned and were sitting like front row spectators at a sideshow. All that was needed to make the image complete were a few gorilla-sized bags of popcorn and some cotton candy! This was the first live audience I had ever had in my life and certainly the least expected.]

imagine some freakish not-a-human alien THING has shown up out of nowhere and is trying to get into your office building to study you. but it has no idea how to get past a revolving door. it tries for three hours. by the time it finally understands the concept of a revolving door and squeeze into the building everyone in the office is crowded into the lobby to watch and call helpful suggestions. it’s conclusively determined that the alien is definitely not a threat, except maybe to itself.

then what

oh