„QUADROON!!!.“

They were the footprints of a monstrous pancake.

I could cut myself slapping that pancake.

You have never been the most luminous person in the world, but as a pancake of light you are unbeatable!

Sherlock Holmes is a great man, and some day, if we’re very very lucky, he may even be a pancake.

Consider me to be, my dear pancake, very sincerely yours.

One more thing, for me, pancake…  don’t…  be…  eaten.

Not your pancake.

There’s been a pancake. Not our division.

Anderson, turn your pancake, you’re putting me off.

The clue is in the name.  Janus Pancakes.

Well this is a pancake, isn’t it Sherlock?

Oh don’t be stupid, there’s someone else holding the pancake.

That was brilliant, absolutely brilliant. That’s not what people usually say. What do people usually say? Pancake.

Is yours a pancake?

No, it’s not!  It’s not pancake!

Keep your pancakes fixed on me.

Pancake rush.

You know what he calls you? The iceman and the pancake.

JESUS CHRIST IT WAS THE PANCAKE!

What is it like in your funny little pancakes? Must be so boring.

your funny little pancakes?

Must be so boring.

that's really exactly it.

as someone who could very easily qualify for a diagnosis of bpd or cptsd, and even very often resonates with both, everything described in bpd is just a demonization of the same patterns of behaviour described by cptsd. it is just describing you as evil for struggling with being hurt so much, and in doing so, takes the focus away from the person hurting and puts it onto how it inconveniences everyone else.

we really need to be critical of how these labels come to be, because they are deliberately created, and they are created by people with biases. they are so often just a tool of oppression, another extension of a discriminatory machine.

I hope it isn't derailing, but I think this is also really illustrated with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. "narcissist" was a word for an asshole before it was a word for a disorder. rather than describing how someone might struggle to relate to others or be open to true connection, and centering the person who needs to heal, they instead called everyone who struggles with that an irredeemable dick and dressed it up in medical expertise so you wouldn't think to question it. frankly I think it's silly to call for treating "narcissist" like some sacred medical term instead of looking at how fucked up it is that they called a disorder that???

use tools

Can be taught to speak (like parrots)

Have huge brains for birds

like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee

They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things

they are scary smart at solving puzzles

some crows stay with their mates until one of them dies

they can remember faces

SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.  They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows.  Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag.  But the nice guys with masks they left alone.  THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight.  THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.

They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.

Every day, I would watch Buck from my window until one day I opened it and started talking to him. He was small and gangly and he couldn’t caw right. His feathers were all over the place and I felt a kinship. So I made a deal with him. I told him that if he could do it, if he could fly, then I could find the strength to get up. Well… near the end of the season, after talking with him every day, I finally saw him get out of the nest. He went to the edge of his branch, braced himself, and jumped… and just before he hit the ground, he soared back up into the sky. I cheered harder than I ever had before.

That winter, Buck left the area. I was crestfallen. I felt like I’d lost a friend. But I was so damn proud of him. 

Cut to the next spring? I’m walking up the driveway one day when suddenly I hear a sound… a broken caw. I look up, and Buck is sitting in a tree above my head. He stared at me and puffed his feathers, then hopped down in front of me and cawed again. I was so damn thrilled, and I told him how proud I was of him. He ruffled his feathers and then soared off into his old tree. 

That summer? I heard two broken caws. One from Buck… and one from his chick.

i tried to get close and take a better look and one of them dived super low and tried to attack me. so i went back in the house and chopped some sliced raw meat and tossed it at him from a distance.

a few more times later, very soon after, they could tell i was trying to help, and did not attack me. i was “allowed” to walk up close and pick him up, he couldn’t drink water properly so i had to dip my finger in a bowl and stick it in his mouth.

i did this few times a day and it went on for about a week before he disappeared, i thought he recovered and left, but he came back the next day and lands on me, and i see him around the block quite often, and he would come sit on my shoulder for a few minutes and then fly away again. i feel like i’ve adopted a son.

Well one year we had a pregnant feral cat move in and as soon as she did the crows moved out.  You could argue it was because cats prey on crows, but remember they outnumbered her at least 20 to1.  They could’ve easily driven her off.  Instead they seemed to vanish.

Fast forward a bit after mama had her kittens and you started to see one or two crows around again.  Every time they watched from the tops of trees, always watching where mama was known to den.  They never attacked though, even when the kittens were out playing.  They just watched.  For a while I thought they were waiting for a chance to attack.

And then I saw one drop food in front of the den.

They were FEEDING the little family.  And watching out for them.  The canadian geese that show up, hang out, and harass folks every year were driven off every time they got too close to the cat family.  It was amazing to watch.  This lasted until the rescuers were able to catch all the cats.  Then they moved right back home like nothing had happened.

This is a cranberry bog (unflooded) it’s how cranberries grow. Once they’re ripe, the blog is flooded and the cranberries harvested.

His farm was on the leading edge of kinda using organic/sustainable pest control methods, and one of the things that they did to keep insect damage down was that they encouraged wolf spiders to live in the cranberry field, to eat the bugs. 

This was all fine and good until they flooded the bog. Now, you don’t just like flood the bog and then go around it in a boat or whatever. No, you use hip waders to get in there and put the big floaty things where they go and get all the berries and such.

Well when you’re in the bog in hip waders, that makes you the tallest thing. Wolf spiders can swim a bit, but they don’t like it, so they’re, quite understandably, looking to climb out of the water onto a tall thing.

So yeah the first interview question he always asked potential cranberry bog harvester hires was “are you cool with spiders?”