dirt enjoyer

woke up this morning, rolled over, and very confidently tried to blow out my alarm clock like a candle. absolutely no precedent for that.

In the year 1450 a priest rolls over and slams his hand into his candle, burning him and sending wax flying all over the place

the fact that 8pm is only 3 hours after 5pm is fucking insane. we have to do something about this.

the menstrual cup and menstrual scepter

beautiful, sexy, powerful and smart women named SEVERE THUNDERSTORM WARNING are attempting to contact me

Sometimes when I have to do an annoying task, I entertain myself by pretending to be a scientist recording audio logs about how the mission to do this particular chore went horribly, horribly wrong. The kind that would be discovered by a player character next to my horribly mangled body. "Log entry 15, August 7th. There are dishes in the sink again. I don't know how long they've been there. Sarah and Professor Finch aren't responding to their walkie-talkies so I'm attempting to do them myself. There's some sort of residue on them. Organic, I believe, but I can't access the equipment to test for sure. Some of it got onto my hands. Thankfully, it seems to have washed off easily."

They should invent a cry for help that has zero negative effects on anybody and also that makes everyone treat you like a little animal in a cardboard box. But everyone’s cool with it because you’re a cute little animal and not an adult human that needs to get their shit together to stay alive

that tumblr phenomenon where a post referencing a media gets too big and the notes start recommending op the media in question