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Show & Tell

macklin celebrini has autism

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
YOU ARE THE REASON
Keni
NASA


tannertan36
Noah Kahan
Today's Document
cherry valley forever
KIROKAZE

@theartofmadeline
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
hello vonnie
art blog(derogatory)
One Nice Bug Per Day
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@knittedkikwi
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Tag yourself I’m the “Overdressed and Underappreciated”. Artist : http://www.mattadrian.com/
If you thought “hm those styles of art AND speech seem very familiar,” you are right because it is the same person that did these
Oh my god damn
“this character is not canonically bisexual” to YOU. i know them personally
how dare you hide this in the tags
The extremely long broom is disinfected and back on the wall where it belongs. (I forgot that the reason it was up there in the first place is because Mayhem wants to fight it so so bad.)
And this little guy is gonna be mad at me forever.
Nosferatu has sworn vengeance upon me.

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Did you know guinea pigs are born just like. Tiny adults? They’re fully cooked. They come out, eyes open, fully furred, ready to do the whole array of guinea pig activities.
I learned this as a child. I was perhaps ten when this story took place. Our female guinea pig was pregnant, but she’d gotten mites and needed a bath. She was wildly pregnant. Bulging at the seams with babies. Ready to burst at any moment because all the babies needed to stay in there long enough to be full pigs. But we wanted to avoid the babies all getting mites and needing baths. We failed, they all needed baths. Mites are a bitch.
We knew she had three babies cooking in there. How did we know? We could feel each individual bulge in her belly. My mom was overseeing the pig bath but I was pretty much just doing my own thing, scrubbing her gently, rinsing the soap carefully.
After the bath our mother pig was not in the best mood. I was carrying her back to her freshly made mite free bedding when she’d had enough.
I was acutely aware that I was holding four lives in my childish grip, and I bore her along as if she were made of precious jewels and spun glass. Balanced in my hands I could feel the bulge of each of her babies slithering wetly around under her skin.
Which is why when she hauled off and sank her teeth into the meat of my hand I didn’t flinch. I didn’t drop her. I bore her as carefully and steadily as if I weren’t now bleeding freely, and I set her gently into her pig palace.
As I drew my hands away I screamed:
“FUCK!!!”
I then turned to look at my mother, who’d been watching the process intently.
I was fully aware that I had just done the worst possible swear directly in front of an authority figure and was very probably going to be punished. My mom was looking at me with a blank expression that I was waiting to turn stormy or disappointed.
“That must have hurt a lot,” was all she said.
She helped me throughly clean and bandage the bite. All the babies were born healthy and sound, looking like someone had used a shrink ray on trio of a guinea pigs.
Years later my mother confided in me that contrary to my belief that she’d be angry for swearing what she’d felt for me in that moment was overwhelming pride that in the face of pain and shock I had refused to let harm befall my little charges.
I come into the house with my arms full of stupid stuff, four hours late to feed the cats dinner. The cats are extremely agitated. I rush to put the stuff down in order to feed them.
That's not what they're yelling about. There's a goddam bat loose in the house.
While scrambling to put my stuff down, and put the cats into a bathroom so I could open doors/windows to chase the bat out, I lost sight of the bat. I truly cannot locate this flappy idiot. In an effort to triangulate the bat, I release the cats. They promptly start attacking the broom I was using to try to poke tall areas.
I still can't find the bat.
FOUND YOU.
No help from these idiots
Gottim
I come into the house with my arms full of stupid stuff, four hours late to feed the cats dinner. The cats are extremely agitated. I rush to put the stuff down in order to feed them.
That's not what they're yelling about. There's a goddam bat loose in the house.
While scrambling to put my stuff down, and put the cats into a bathroom so I could open doors/windows to chase the bat out, I lost sight of the bat. I truly cannot locate this flappy idiot. In an effort to triangulate the bat, I release the cats. They promptly start attacking the broom I was using to try to poke tall areas.
I still can't find the bat.
you're as beautiful as the day i lost you
This is so
Unnecessary
how do you explain to someone that this is your sense of humour
“What could the audio possibly be?”
*unmutes*
“Oh,”
If I ever don’t laugh at this, assume I died.

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I ever tell you guys about my ethically dubious radio show back in college? The Mad Dad Hour?
it was an entire radio show built around perpetuating a very simple joke, but it was uniquely powerful in its capacity to prompt the reaction I was looking for.
so my slot was at the tail end of rush hour, and i got a fair number of listeners/callers who were on the way home from the office. And like, I had a lot of callers, who almost all wanted to request songs that really didn’t fit with the aesthetic. I had pitched a power pop show when i got my slot, but the callers were not having it; they invariably wanted classic rock.
this made sense in a way. if you think about the demographics of the people who listened to the radio for music in 2010 instead of their ipods or cds or whatever, you’d expect them to skew older right? accordingly, i quickly realized that almost all of the people who called to request songs were Dads of a Certain Age. It was honestly annoying at first - I’m all for most classic rock, but that wasn’t what the show was supposed to be.
And so one day, when i was feeling particularly annoyed with requests that just didn’t fit thematically, i came up with the joke that rapidly became the only reason I kept the show going. Per station rules, I had to play a certain number of pre-recorded PSAs during my show, and before I cut to one I was supposed to read out the song titles and artists for all the music i had played before the break. So this one day when i had to inform the world before the break that the song they just heard was, per a listener’s request, Hey Jude by the Beatles, I decided to do a goof. I said:
“and finally, that last song you heard was Hey Jude, which was of course written and performed by the Rolling Stones.”
I barely had time to get the ads going before the phone started ringing. See, I had been assuming people would realize i was making an obvious joke by claiming one of the most well-known Beatles tracks was a Stones song, but i had failed to consider that my listeners were mostly 55-70 year old dads who were irritated from a long day in the office.
And when those dads heard me, a millennial woman, get the artist of an extremely well-known beatles song WRONG???!
they HAD to call in to correct my ignorance. never in a polite way either, it was condescending and annoyed or nothing. and like, they were just SO personally insulted by my inaccurate reporting that it took a massive amount of effort for me to avoid cracking up during the call. I had never understood why some people would enjoy trolling random strangers on the internet before, but in that moment, I understood the appeal entirely.
obviously i did it again right before the next commercial break, immediately after playing Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen David Bowie.
the phone immediately began to ring.
“ARE YOU AN IDIOT?” one of the callers began, “DAVID BOWIE???? THAT WAS QUEEN!”
“I thought David Bowie was the lead singer of Queen though?” I replied with as much innocent earnestness as i could conjure.
I could hear an intake of breath as the infuriated boomer on the other end of the line struggled to figure out where to even start.
And thus, the Mad Dad Hour was born.
@eduards-stuff I kept doing the same joke for an hour a week for an entire year, and the dads NEVER caught on. After episode 1 of the new format I started taking the angry dad calls on air, which added another layer of hilarity to the whole concept.
My friends on campus knew that hay I was doing and enjoyed tuning in, but only one actual listener ever figured out what I was doing, and he was literally a random 30 year old guy from the netherlands with access to an early internet connection radio service. He was possibly my only actual fan. I only know about him because he went to the effort of making a skype and paying for international service so he could call in, and while I got a few calls from him, the first remains my favorite:
me: hi there, you’ve got TST-
him: *strained, wheezing dutch laughter*
me: hey, is everything o-
him: pfffHAHAHAAH YOU MAKE THEM SO MAD. THEY THINK SO LITTLE OF YOUUUUUUUU BUT THE MEN ARE THE ONES WHO ARE FOOLISH! HA! HA! HA! YOU HAVE DUPED THEM!
me: sir i do not know you and i have never even seen you but i am in romantic love with you.
HUGE fan of trees growing in places they should not reasonably be able to
upside down
sideways
out of a rock
upside down in a freakin LAKE
out of an Indiana courthouse
out of ANOTHER
GODDAMN
TREE
none of that is a reasonable expectation!!!
i like trees
We all know and love The Chocolate Wizard, but may I introduce you to The Paper Wizards? (Fourth Cone Restorations) These people work true magic.

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You've been kidnapped but the main character of the last TV show you watched is coming to rescue you.
Who’s rescuing you?
He’s back at it again