The jumble of jumbles

polar opposite of this post

me, to my housemates, one of whom is a thermal engineer: if someone had hypothermia, is the best way to warm them up ‘spoon them’, or ‘cuddle chest to chest’? I feel like it could be either – spooning is the classic warming position, and you warm up the colder part, but spoon the front and you insulate the skin with the largest temperature delta

Please help me, I still have cancer and my last post isn't getting me help anymore

trying to get your story together like:

Explaining your story to a willing ear:

“I really like your story! is there more?”

“I like this character, is there more about them?”

When they ask “What happens next?” and you haven’t figured it out yet.

When you have figured things out but you haven’t written/drawn anything yet, and trying to figure out how to:

When you only write and draw things out of order and everything remains in the drafting stage:

Ok but this is even better

My boss doesn’t take me seriously because I’m the youngest in the office by a decade and spend most of my time making his life hell (unrelated problems).

i cannot stand this i keep seeing op’s face like this in my mind

classic texts have nothing on the crazy people come up with in modern times tbh

“I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me.”

“If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have.”

“Pick a god and pray.”

#discovering that the profound is lurking behind the absurd#just waiting for the chance to peek through like sunlight through the clouds#is one of the best things in life once you start to notice it

My dad told me a story recently about how he was in Boy Scouts or something and they went on a hike and were each given a rifle and one single bullet to practice shooting with (idk, it was the 70s or whatever). One of his friends, whom I’ll refer to as Steel Balls for reasons that will soon become clear, beckons my dad to a part of the woods and points to a giant hornets nest up in a tree. SB announces that he’s going to shoot it, waits for my dad to take cover (as one should in this situation), and fires off his only round into the nest. Sure enough, a swarm of pissed off hornets descend upon SB, who stands stoically and perfectly still at the base of the tree. Dad maintains that, despite their buzzing right around him, none of the hornets stung his friend, and they soon calmed down and returned to their newly renovated nest. SB turns back to face my dad and imparts this chunk of wisdom: “That’s the secret to dealing with hornets, Jim. They don’t know humans make rifle shots; they don’t know where the noise came from. You gotta stand still and don’t move, and they won’t chase you. If you run, they know you’re guilty.” Apparently dad was so awed he gave up his single bullet so SB could shoot the nest a second time, with the same results.

Yo gotta add an important addition to this after reading the comments since everyone else seems to be mistaken too: