give me the watermelón
THAT'S MEEE!

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@catamelon
give me the watermelón
THAT'S MEEE!

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3 pm: god, I'm EXHAUSTED. going to bed early for SURE.
midnight: I Have Literally Never Been More Awake And Alert
what is THE worst thing you've ever drank. all liquids acceptable. please tell me what it was, bonus points for why
Hey whoa hi. Hello. I am looking directly into your ear canal. What do you mean you drank a tube of virus concentrate.
So, I was working in a lab, right? My job in the lab was preparing a pure, concentrated enough sample of virus. This is tricky since, y'know, viruses require hosts to replicate, but you then need to get the host cells (and the pieces of the host cells that died!) out of the sample while still keeping the viruses. Once I'd finished and the samples had been sent to the database for analysis as well as a second one sent to be frozen for future reference, there was still some left over that needed to be disposed of.
I, knowing that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, waited carefully for the lab director to be deep in conversation with someone else on the other side of the laboratory. And then I took my chance.
Test tubes, as it turns out, are really bad as shot glasses. Their shape turns any liquid inside into a stream, so you really can't knock it back quickly - it takes a couple seconds. Additionally, the best way I can describe the taste of virus concentrate was "sterile rot". A very unique kind of bad! Made worse by the test tube's inefficiency as a shot glass.
(by the way we were studying bacteriophages, not animal viruses. these viruses are too specialized on attacking prokaryotes to even recognize our cells as targets at all, according to studies.)
(but also like. if the viruses managed to successfully switch hosts and killed me with a violent infection, itd still be worth it.)
(for science.)
You have a fitting blog title
this post is getting 50k easy
take your clothes off and get on the bed what no we aren’t having sex right now we’re cuddling and pressing every inch of skin together as close as possible for the next six hours

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What's this? The red-lined bubble snail (Bullina lineata), a marine gastropod. Bizarre and beautiful, yes?
i am strange and i look like a peppermint. is that ok .
I am slowly trying to spend less time online and more time doing my actual hobbies so I did I am much quieter on here, for now at least :)
...
"you should be at the club" i should be by the sea. i should be in the mountains. i should be at the moon. i should be awestruck and rendered speechless by the majesty of the natural world. if you even care.
(hasn’t inventoried my spices in a while) ohhh i got plany of thyme

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Stroking my loves' hair/playing with it on the metro on her way home and she goes:
"We're going to look like those sappy couples in public if you carry on."
"good. I don't care. - unless you do?"
[This is about queer-platonic love.]
Where I live rn has a tiny, v scattered jewish community , and the biggest supermarket about has no kosher stuff. None.
Which is insane, because to be frank they're large enough not to have an excuse.
But anyway I need to work out where to buy matzah from because I don't think I have time to visit somewhere w/ a pop up shop or better supermarket.
.
I love a snack that’s also a little bit of an activity. peeling a clementine, stringing a cheese, roasting marshmallows, stuff like that. eating a pomegranate is like a game of sudoku to me.
I hate how the advice for avoiding burnout is all "if you feel like everything is a chore you're making yourself do, you should rest and do things you want to do voluntarily :)" like the fuck you mean want to do. I don't want to cook a nice homemade meal, go outside to spend time in nature, make cutesy fun little crafts, read books, or do any of that shit. Those are also chores I make myself do. Self care is a chore. Either I am up and making myself do shit that I don't want to do because people are making me and I am supposed to, or it's phone in bed. There is no secret third thing.

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oh, my job at the time travel agency? well. it's not that interesting. not one of the glamorous ones, you know? I'm in risk assessment. the term in the business is "grief actuary," not yet anyone outside the agency calls it that. I mean, what does that even mean, right? yeah, so, it's like... you know the "would you kill baby Hitler" dilemma? comes up all the time. and the thing is, sure, it's real easy to kill a newborn. like, extremely easy. extremely difficult to overstate how simple it is to put the kibosh on a baby and make it look like natural causes at basically any point in human history. sorry, that's grim. anyway, sure, then you've stopped the one person from doing their one thing. history changed, or it doesn't. sometimes there's another guy who'll do it instead. that's a whole other department is risk assessment. we call 'em the suck squad, you know, because they deal with historical vacuums? sorry, not funny. we don't actually call them that very much. I mean, it's the name of their company kickball team, but—whatever. so you have to look at instances of the timeline immediately filling in the gaps with some other guy, sure, but you also need to look for big, unwanted changes. the ripples. the thing is, clean as it is to just kill a baby—sorry, you asked—there's still, you know, the surviving family. the parents and all that. losing a child, it does things to people. so you have to run the numbers and figure out, okay, maybe we assassinate Baby So and So, but then what happens to their parents? maybe their dad still had a patent to file, or their mom still had a poem to write. and now they don't, because they're catatonic with grief. they're drunk. they killed themself. and that doesn't seem as important as the big thing that Baby So and So was going to do, but it adds up. maybe that patent led to the airplane. maybe the poem inspired the writer who inspired the writer who inspired the writer who wrote something else. so it's tricky. important work, though. and I get to feel good about what I do, because sometimes I go home and I get to say, man, those 15th century merchants would be thrilled to know that I signed a report today that says killing their son isn't worth it. sure, yeah, sometimes it goes the other way, but most of what I do is saying no. I'd say it's a solid 20:80 ratio, in favor of dismissing the baby homicide proposals. so most people are lucky. and the ones who aren't, well, that's the cost of preserving the timeline, baby. the ethics wonks can complain about it all they want, but a job's a job. and I'd take this over patrolling all those idiot time tourists trying to get their asses on the Titanic any day.