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Misplaced Lens Cap

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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
YOU ARE THE REASON
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@dreamyholmes
Explaining tumblr to anyone

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sometimes sex is just letting her bury her nose in your pit and grind on your leg
yes and it is good very good
Krzysztof Gil (Romani-Polish, 1987) - Flammable (2021)
Betting you a 100 bucks that it was Marge who wrote the Illiad too

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An old woman will arrive at the station at 2:47 AM, she will not have enough money to pay the fare, let her in anyway. She will then board an unscheduled train at 3:00 AM. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TURN HER AWAY UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
It was either a joke or some train executive's wife, that's what I thought when my manager gave me those specific instructions.
He proceeded to stress them again three more times during orientation. No biggie, I figured, and set a reminder on my phone for 2:45 just to be safe. Other than that I was just shown how to work the ticketing machine and where to find the spare D Batteries for the ancient flashlight they provided me with.
At 11:50 PM the last scheduled train departed. By 00:20 AM all the disembarked passengers had milled off. There was only one other person at the platform, a young homeless man missing a leg. Probably a veteran of one war or the other, there had been so many recently. He was sleeping on one of the benches. My manager had said I was to politely urge any passengers remaining after midnight to leave. He did not seem like a passenger so I let him sleep. It is how I was raised.
At 2:45 AM my alarm went off. I put aside my book, made sure my booth was tidy in case the executive's wife or mother or whoever would come was going to inspect it.
At 2:47 AM she was there.
I did not hear a car, nor approaching footsteps. The Babusia was simply there when she had not been before. A heavily wrinkled old woman, with a crooked nose and a scarf tied around her brittle-looking grey hair. A knobbly wooden walking stick was held by an equally knobbly left hand. She did not seem like the mother of some rich rail tycoon. She reminded me of my grandmother.
But I had never met my grandmother.
"One ticket, please." she requested in a firm voice, placing a small handful of coins on the counter without looking up at me. Most of the coins were obsolete Kopeks, and even counting those it was not enough for half a ticket, but as I was told before I nodded my head and accepted her money. "Of course. "
It suddenly occured to me that I was not told how to print a ticket for this unscheduled train. Before I could remark about it, I saw that the ticket was already at the mouth of the machine. It was green, with red lettering, something the black-and-white printer should not have made. But yet it did. The printing seemed in cyrillic of some sort, but I could not read it.
"Your ticket." I presented, and without thinking added "Do you require assistance to climb the platform stairs, grandmother?" It is how I was raised.
"Yes. Assist me." she replied curtly, beginning to shuffle slowly through the dark station towards the platform. I locked up my booth, and caught up with her just before the stairs. I switched on my heavy flashlight with my right hand, and offered the woman my right to brace herself. Her grip was strong. She probably would have had no issue climbing by herself, but assisting a grandmother was always the right thing to do, even when her sharp fingernails dug painfully into my palm.
We arrived at the platform. The clock hanging from the ceiling read 2:56. She released my hand and took a few steps, then looked at the sleeping man on the bench. "A friend of yours?" she asked. I thought about lying; if she was truly an executive's family, perhaps hosting a friend would be a lighter offense than turning a blind eye?
"No, grandmother." I responded truthfully. "He is not breaking the rules, so I left him alone." It is how I was raised.
The woman hummed. She seemed taller than before. Taller than me. The night draped her shoulders like a shaul and my torch did not reach it. Her gray hair shone like woven starlight, and her eyes were the night sky. I could not look away.
"You are a well-mannered girl." she said, her voice echoing in my ears like silence. She placed something small and hard in my hand.
A train arrived. It had only one car. I think it had a steam engine. It may have walked on chicken legs. I could not look at it.
The Grandmother boarded her train without another word. I was alone in a perfectly dull train station. Almost. The homeless woman behind me mumbled and stretched her legs in her sleep.
In my hand was a wrapped piece of hard candy.
This makes me happy in particular because that's exactly what I was going for
Every time someone leaves kind words in the comments it makes my day! Even if I don't reply to each and every one (mostly because I can't think of something to say usually) I love it, so thank you all!
Keith Haring, Altarpiece: The Life of Christ
Vastaanotan hakemuksia opaskoiran virkaan.
Työn edut:
- Saat pitää kaulapantaa ihan koko ajan. Joskus myös harnessia.
- Saat keittiön lattialle ikiomat kulhosi vedelle ha ruoalle.
- Saat mukavan makuualustan lattialle lepäilyyn ja nukkumiseen.
- Paljon rapsutuksia ja ”hyvä hauva!” -lausahduksia.
Työn varjopuolet:
- Sinun on nähtävä asioita minulle.
- Et saa palkkaa. No, toki ruoan ja asumisen.
- Kotioloissa vietän valtaosan ajastani alasti joten joudut näkemään sitä.
En tiennykkään et @kinuskikakkukin tykkää Pup Playstä.
Hei oon turri ja tumblrissa joten eikö se oo käytännössä lakisääteistä?
Saaks sit lääkkeet herkkujen sisälle piilotettuna?
Tietenkin. Toki tiedä miten toimii jos on tosi hc lääkitys ja joudun tunkemaan hillomunkin niin täyteen pillereitä et se rouskuu joka suullisella.
Tää tarjous kuulosti ihan hyvältä rouskuvaan hillomunkkiin asti
Hei hei se munkki rouskuu vain jos sää tarttet kourallisen pillereitä aina kerrallaan. Tosin tää on tumppu joten se voi ola paljon todennäköisempää kuin keskiverrolla henkilöllä.
Acorn wallpaper by William Morris
I just learned that the Russian word for “ladybug” translates to “God’s Little Cow”
It’s the same in Irish! bóín Dé!
in hebrew it’s “our rabbi moses’s cow”
Oh I love this news!!!!
Multiple cultures upon seeing a ladybug for the first time: “Who’s cow is this????”
It feels like some early humans were naming things and one of them ran out of ideas.
Human 1: (points at animal) What’s that?
Human 2: Cow.
Human 1: (points at bug) What’s that?
Human 2: … little cow.
Human 1: But it’s so much smaller. Who would have use for such a small cow?
Human 2: (panicking but in too deep to stop now) God.
The “Lady” in the name “ladybug” is the virgin Mary. People just cannot stop giving religious names to this bug.
The reason for this was that if you lived in an agrarian society then your survival was a throw of the dice every year, depending on the success of the crops. A failed crop year is a very hard year where deaths are expected. And if you grew a cereal like wheat, there were several things that could cause your crops to fail, but one of the big ones was if you happened to get a fuckton of aphids. You know what eats aphids? Ladybugs! If there are lots and lots of ladybugs around, there was a good chance that it’d be a good crop year! They were little crop protectors! When your family lives or dies on the success of that crop, of course they’d be seen as a blessing and given an appropriate name!
That is such an interesting etymology!!!!
And entomology too i guess
in German they’re Marienkäfer which also pretty much means “Mary’s Beetle”
In French it’s “Good Lord’s Beast”
Not even a cow, it’s just a little Creature but we know for sure God loves it.
In Dutch it’s “Lieveheersbeestje”, the Good Lord’s Little Beast
A liddol creeture

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I don't see what the-- oh gosh
certified door post
Kallio.
Pentax K1000 / Kodak Gold 200
happy pride to my favourite post on reddit
me at the uncut orc village
people in the comments asking what these are like they've never seen these before
Dress and Stole
c. 1953
Ribbed silk moiré
by Christian Dior, Paris
Chicago Historical Society

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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24 hour comic :3 viiru & pesonen / pettson & findus at pride! I wanted to keep it in line with sven nordqvist's tone, no outlandish silly twists this time
this is fairly understandable just based on the drawings alone I think but english translation in text under the readmore