I love that this joke works in English even though it's not written in English.
d e v o n
Misplaced Lens Cap

blake kathryn

â
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS

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almost home

JVL
Not today Justin
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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One Nice Bug Per Day

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

bliss lane

pixel skylines
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@realitys-ex
I love that this joke works in English even though it's not written in English.

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iâve tormented all of my loved ones with this video, and now you can, too
(video by aquarium of the pacific)
i deleted my blog and tumblr immediately asked me if i want to sign up again
and here you are
ppl are so annoying âyou canât paint ur bedroom pink youâre an adultâ i did not spend my entire life waiting to grow up and control my life to paint my bedroom beige
I had a sales woman in furniture store try and tell me not to buy a hot bubblegum pink loveseat because she wanted me to âthink about the futureâ
Bitch, I am thinking about the future. I already got a hot bubblegum pink couch at home and now I need a loveseat to go with it.
when I first bought my house, I announced my decision to paint my bedroom purple. I had wanted a purple bedroom for thirty damn years, you fucking bet I was gonna have one now. My friends decided, for some reason, that I meant what one of them referred to as â14 year old girl purpleâ (through whatâs wrong with the colors a 14 year old girl chooses, I donât know, even if theyâre not what I want as an adult). They didnât believe me until they saw the color on the actual wall, even thought they helped me pick out paints. My mother, meanwhile, decided to get worried that if I painted my bedroom a âdark purpleâ, it would be âdepressingâ. As if, with an entire house to live in, I would spend all my time in the bedroom, which I wanted to be dark because I would be sleeping in there. In the damn dark.
I had like one, maybe two friends who were all like FUCK YEAH YOU PAINT IT WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT, PURPLE BEDROOMS ARE AWESOME.
But when they actualy saw the finished bedroom, every single one of them was like, âOh yeah, thatâs really pretty.â (Well, the ones who supported me from the beginning were more like WOOHOO.)
And the moral of the story is: Fuck âem, please yourself. Either theyâll come around, or you can safely ignore every question of taste they opine about for the rest of time.
This applies to other adulting activities, too. When I was a kid, I decided that I wanted to have a wedding cake made of doughnuts. When I got older, I figured that I would be âmatureâ about it and get a traditional cake, which the older adults approved of. Now that Iâm 25 and facing the possibility of actual marriage in the near future, Iâm just like âmarriage is a social construct but it comes with tax & insurance benefits, so just give me that goddamn doughnut cake.â If they donât like it then they donât have to come to my wedding.
https://xkcd.com/150/
I would like you all to view my office. Iâm thirty and my rainbow room is awesome, people can fight me
Iâm thirty and my first big furniture purchase was a custom coffin shaped coffee table that opens up and is lined with purple crushed velvet. I would have loved it at 13 and I love it now. Growing up doesnât mean you have to abandon what makes you happy.
GROWING UP DOESNâT MEAN YOU HAVE TO ABANDON WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.
GROWING UP DOESNâT
MEAN YOU HAVE TO ABANDON
WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
I have told this story before, and I will tell it again, because I am An Old now and repeating stories forever is our prerogative:
When I bought my house, the kitchen was multiple shades of dingy white. It was dismal, but it was now mine! So went to the hardware store for paint (well, several trips, painted swatches on panel, etc â Iâm very picky. But this was the final, ârealâ trip). It was a busy day in the paint section. There were at least five people behind me in line.
Now, remember, latex paint is slightly lighter and brighter when wet than it is when dry. And Iâd decided to paint my kitchen candy-apple red. The hardware store employee took my gallon off the Paint Jiggler and cracked it open to put a dab on the top, revealing the most incredibly deep pink, and behind me I hear the entire line of people say,
âOh my god.â
âŚin perfect chorus.
I did not realize up until that moment that shocking a crowd of strangers with my paint color choices was a life goal, but at that moment I felt an absolutely overwhelming sense of achievement.
This is the door to my garage. It used to be white. Live your best life.
Mischief the cat says âWho goes there?â
Every visiting friend says âThis is so cool.â
If youâre looking for an excuse to do some decorating that will make your soul sing, this entire thread is your sign to do it and donât look back!
This is the door to
my garage. It used to be
white. Live your best life.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
Iâm 35. I have been told my place looks like maybe a LP fan lives there.
Not sure what they mean.
When I first moved into my place, I painted the spare room, that eventually became my office, lime green, the kind of lime green that glows down the corridor when I open the door - The colour was only available as an âaccent colourâ in the section of paints intended for childrenâs playrooms, and in the shop I got a lot of âOh your son will love this!â And from people I knew I got a lot of âOh well, youâre 21 now, youâre basically a teenager, this is a terrible idea, youâll hate it and need to pull out all the furniture to repaint it.â And I have to report that I am now in my forties and my office still looks like this, and it makes me smile every time I see it.
this is such a modern idea, too
not decorating trends; those have always existed. but the idea that color and decoration is inherently childish
this is the dining room at the Eustis Estate in Milton, Massachusetts, from 1878 (where I used to work, briefly). the walls are TEXTURED MICA SHIMMER on a green background. Adult Space For Adults!
A jewelry shop in Paris c. 1901. kids canât buy jewelry!
who can forget the classic 1950s colorful bathroom? Iâm not a huge fan, but still! adult space! bright colors; decorative designs!
meanwhile âyouâre immature if you like Art Nouveauâ is a hot take Iâve really, seriously seen on this webbed site (only once, thank the gods). I donât know who started this, but Iâm going to kill them
I think a lot of it stems from the ubiquitous Waterhouse prints that were sold on college campuses for 20 years. like why would I get a free pass if it were Monet instead Western culture is stupid. The entire point of being an adult is breakfast for dinner and cake for breakfast and dying with the most toys.
instantly decided to reblog when i got to GROWING UP DOESNâT MEAN YOU HAVE TO ABANDON WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.
The examples of decorated homes above are both either modern or upper class, which makes it easy to dismiss because âsure the rich people have beautiful homesâ and âsure, modern middle-class people have lots of color in their homes.â
So hereâs two examples of traditional Norwegian farmhouse interiors. You know. The kinds of places peasants live in.
This type of painting is called ârosemalingâ and today you usually find it on, like, carved wooden bowls and such that are only used for decoration. But back two centuries ago, it was very common to find the interiors of homes covered in it, in projects that were painted little by little over the decades. Because itâs beautiful to look at, paint is the cheapest way of decorating your house, and what else are you going to do on the long winter nights when itâs too dark and cold to work outdoors?
But mostly, they did it because it made them happy, and it was beautiful.
Those old peasants were on to something, I think.
I painted rooms in my house these colors and some people had doubts:
I have been SO HAPPY.
My wife painted the walls of my studio ORANGE. Glorious sunset orange.
I have always wanted a room that was an amazing color and this one is mine.
When we decided it was time to paint our home, we wanted something that very much marked it as ours. I think we accomplished that!
When I was younger (around 13/14 I think?) my bedroom got water damage and fortunately insurance covered a new carpet and wall paint.
Even more fortunately my parents let me choose whatever colour I wanted for the walls and carpet.
I loved forest green, and I got my walls a deep dark green (they made me get the paint with a bit of a reflective surface instead of matte so it would be a bit brighter, which was a good call), and the carpet a brown* like a forest floor.
And whenever I am back at my parent's place, I love my room. When my niblings are over, they tend to stay in my old bedroom (it is one of the larger ones, and right beside the nice guest bedroom my siblings+their spouses take), and adore it.
The colours look so much like a forest it just feels comfortable!
I am endlessly thankful that my parents let me pick my own colours. I was shocked then, and am still pleasently surprised.
And when I own my own place, I am going to paint my bedroom green.
(*I recall choosing the mossy green carpet, it ended up being an ok shade of brown, so it looked a bit more like dirt in a forest than a moss covered stone. I am unsure if that was the closest option they had, or it looked different in the swatch vs a full carpet. But the overall effect is better than if it had been green all around).
And I get a little bit Genghis Kahnghis I donât want you to get it onghis Nobody else but me (ooooh) With nobody else but MeeeeMe
I get a little bit Danghis Dahn Donât want you to Genghis on with Nobody else but Mingus Nobody else but Mingus Kingus

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Sitcom, Comedy, Parody, Adventure, Musical, FantasyA musical comedy adventure featuring a knight on a quest for love who helps a childish ki
All the episodes of Galavant are on the Internet Archive!
omg the girlies
omg the girls are saviiiiiiiing wiiiildliiiiife
Not all heroes wear capes. Or trousers.
Not leaving this in the tags
I saw this on insta and someone commented asking her how she knew they were in there and she said that she saw the mama duck with only one duckling and thought it was suspicious so she stopped to check and hear them quacking down there... :') <3
the way the momma duck sped up once she saw her babies yayyyy
For when you need a reminder that there really is goodness in the world
And for whenever someone mistakenly tells you that humans can only hurt nature -
We are part of nature. And we are uniquely equipped, in many ways, to help heal the planet we are part of - so long as we keep choosing to help, and to heal, this planet of which we are a part
Next up someone is going to claim that the Narnia series isn't kids books.
Kids books is probably not the best way to word it, you can enjoy them at every age, including your childhood, as you get older you may find new truths in them, but they're still good for any age.
I want you to understand this. I NEED you to understand this. My mother read me the hobbit as bedtime story, and I started pushing myself to read before pre-school so I could in fact read the hobbit for myself instead of having to wait for bedtime.
I didn't do so right away but jesus wept I PUSHED myself to learn to read SPECIFICALLY so I could read The Hobbit! It is, in fact, a children's story! And children only see page count as 'there is a lot of this fun story to read!'
Asdfghjkl her perfectly straight face and even tone throughout should win an AWARD

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Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a âLego winnerâ behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for âtrophyâ, heâd extrapolated a word for âthing you can winâ. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, âMummy? Itâs not rubbish. Itâs allowed to be a bottle.â - meaning, effectively, âI want this. Donât throw it away.â But to an adult ear, thereâs something quite lovely about âitâs allowed to be a bottle,â as if weâre acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.
Another good post to read for those writing small human characters.Â
My son was about three when he came to me in the middle of the day and said, âMommy, thereâs a knight behind the bush.â I thought he meant a toy knight or something. So I follow him outside and he goes, âListen. Do you hear it? Itâs night behind the bush.â It was a cricket. A cricket was standing in the little patch of shade under the bush, chirping. So, my son saw this dark area with accompanying nighttime sounds and decided, okay, well, that is a night right there. Their brains are incredible.
My little bean knows sheâs two, constantly saying proudly âIâm two!â And the other day she saw this very frail old lady who looked one foot in the grave, pulled a face and said âoh shiiiit. Sheâs three.â I almost screamed.
I live in Korea and have a lot of international friends, and the same is true with language barriers in adults.Â
*Looking at a bowl of pears* âCan you please pass me the⌠appleâs friend?âÂ
This is why I have TikTok
I just remembered one time in like sixth or seventh grade (we had the same teachers and class both years so hard to remember which) somehow we got into a debate of âwho is better, boys or girls?â and instead of stepping in to stop it our teacher formalized it and egged us on by providing thoughtful prompts and counters to each side and by the end each group had built a barricade of desks on either side of the classroom and we were throwing balls of paper at each other and screaming about personal hygiene while our teacher just watched and enjoyed a Baby Ruth candy bar.
This was the same teacher that got the cops called on our school like three times and would reward us for being good by spraying our hands with rubbing alcohol and setting them on fire.
He was the best teacher I ever had.
STUFF MR ROBINSON DID THAT WAS VERY GOOD:
One time Mr. Robinson closed the door to the classroom furtively and asked a student near the door to keep an eye on the doorâs window in case anyone from the administration was coming.
He explained the next curriculum was one he had been explicitly disallowed from, but he didnât know how we were going to cover the next portion of our history work fairly without covering it first. He said if any of us were offended by it or felt it threatened our beliefs to be discussing it, please talk to him and he would gladly find alternative work for us to do instead. But he asked if we would be okay not broadcasting too loudly to the administration (our parents were fine) about it.
At this point weâre on the edge of our seat. Forbidden curriculum? YES PLEASE.
âAll right, do I have a promise from you you wonât tell on me to the principal?â
We, of course, promised.
âGood. Then letâs talk about World Religions.â
-
(A side note here, if you ever have a not-forbidden courseload you want your students to really enthusiastically consume, I think pretending itâd forbidden will up interest levels immensely. The work was informative and we loved it, but the Secret Agent-ness of doing a SECRET ASSIGNMENTS and having SECRET PROJECTS and LOOKOUTS FOR THE FUZZ upped our investment in the material beyond description. Even if you DONâT have secret coursework, PLEASE DO THIS WITH YOUR CLASS SOMETIME. ITâS FUN.)
-
At the start of the Great Gender Debate when someone would try to say boys and girls arenât different and they can do whatever the other does, heâd super respectively ask them if they really thought that, or if they were saying it because they thought thatâs what they were supposed to say, and encouraged us being honest about how we actually felt about the difference between between boys and girls and who was better.
Then lots of super fun shouting and throwing paper at each other and making desk barricades and more yelling.
(Keep in mind, this was 1999/2000. A lot of people didnât even have internet at home. This was a small conservative town. Being trans or nonbinary wouldnât have even been an option we knew about.)
Then he eventually stepped back into the fray of the Great Gender Debate and made us break down our points, which he had been taking notes of, on the white board and then had us carefully and intentionally refute or discuss them one at a time. Until we had reached a real and honest consensus that actually weâd been tricked into thinking gender was anything at all. Now when we said we thought neither was better than the other and being a boy or girl didnât mean anything about what you could or couldnât do, we fucking meant it.
One of our male classmates started wearing nail polish the next week and we told him it looked rad.
-
One time it was a nice day out and even though we werenât doing trig at that point he was like, âWanna learn something cool? Iâm gonna show you how to calculate how tall something is using shadowsâ and then we went outside and learned how to find out how tall things are by measuring their shadows and measuring the shadows of stuff we knew the length of, and then for fun we also independently worked out the world was round and how big it was.
-
One of the times the cops were called on us it was because we were having a Hot Air Balloon making contest and people thought there were UFOs or spy planes.
-
Another time we were just setting off dry ice bombs, lol.
-
They changed the milk at lunch and we hated it and Mr. Robinson may have given us ideas about civil disobedience and direct action that led to the lunch room sit-in the schoolchildren ended up staging until they would switch the milk back. At the time it felt like he was being really cool, and he was, but thinking on it he may have also been using us as props to prank the administration and also give himself an afternoon off while all the administration tried to get a hundred 11-12 year olds to leave the damn cafeteria while we chanted about milk.
-
We grew up in a town that was about 2% black. It was not uncommon for people living there to not know any black people at all.
One day Mr. Robinson told us we were going to be having a very important speaker come talk to us, and that he expected us to treat her with respect and deference. That she was one of the most important people we could be learning from, and we were honored to have her come to us. We all sat up, wondering who this important woman could be.
And he opened the door and it was one of the ladies who worked the front office, accepting our tardy slips and making us wait for the school nurse. A black woman, one of the only black people youâd find in the school.
She then sat down with us and talked to us about the racial history of our town. Explained to us what a Sundown Town was. Explained to us the racism she experienced growing up there. Explained the mistreatment of the police.
She wasnât even that old. It struck us all. But youâre not even old. Is this still happening? Why didnât you leave? Did anyone help you?
It was an incredibly powerful day.
When I went home to talk to my parents about it, they had no idea about any of it, even though this was the same town they had grown up in.
-
Mr. Robinson would occasionally repeat this habit of special guests were not academics, just people who had lived in our town for a while, bringing in a lunch lady or a janitor, making us talk to them, learn our townâs history, learn to respect their jobs, learn manners and deference for the working class.
-
One time he gave us bread, water, and ziploc bags and set us loose on the school to rub the bread on stuff, drip water on it, seal it, and watch what mold grew. The kid that got the grimiest piece of bread with the most enthusiastic mold would win.
We learned that many of the surfaces we consider the most dirty get the most regular cleaning, and so are in fact the least likely to produce mold. While many of the surfaces we eat off of and touch regularly are nasty as hell.
-
Similar to the Great Gender Debate, one time he let class go wildly off course while we debated hotly for over an hour about The Lion King. I do not, for the life of me, remember the substance of this debate. I think The Little Mermaid may also have been a point of conversation? I just remember it got HEATED, and Mr. Robinson always thought these heated debates were REALLY ENTERTAINING and would quietly sit back and egg them on.
-
One time he gave me detention and I cried through the whole thing thinking my parents were gonna kill me when I got home and instead when I got home my mom hugged me and told me how heâd called her and said Iâd been really honest and showed moral fiber in standing up for a friend and taking the detention in the first place and she was really proud of me for being a good person or whatever and idk if he actually was impressed with my actions or if he saw that I was stressed about my parentâs reactions and wanted to mitigate that, but that was such a good move.
-
IDK. I just have a hard time thinking of any teacher I ever had both as capable of chaotic dry amusement and completely upright righteous anger. He modeled for us what it was like to evaluate things based on merit rather than based on rules and expectations, and you felt that energy constantly.
-
Plus like getting to set your hand on fire for good behavior is a way better reward than whatever dumb stickers or candies or whatever it is teachers usually use. âBehave and we will play with fireâ is the BEST incentive.

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[id. A twitter post by @/Bennieeexyz Jury duty letter came addressed to my cat. Not a mistake. "Felix Martinez" - that's his full name according to his vet records. My last name. His first name. Somehow he's a registered voter now. Called the county clerk. Me: My cat got summoned for jury duty. Clerk: Is the name correct on the summons? Me: Yes, but he's a cat. Clerk: Is Felix Martinez a legal resident of this county? Me: He's a legal cat. Clerk: Sir, if the name matches our records, he needs to appear or file an exemption. Me: He can't file anything. He has paws. Clerk: You can file on his behalf. Me: Under what exemption? There's no box for "is a cat." Clerk: (pause) Check "unable to serve due to medical reasons." Me: What's the medical reason? Clerk: He's a cat. Me: That's not a medical condition. Clerk: It is if it prevents him from serving. Sent in the form. Got rejected two weeks later. "Insufficient documentation. Please provide medical professional's statement." Took the letter to my vet. Me: I need you to write that my cat can't do jury duty. Vet: Why is your cat summoned for jury duty? Me: Excellent question. No good answer. Vet: This is the weirdest request I've gotten. Me: Can you just write that he's medically unfit to serve? Vet: On what grounds? Me: He's a cat. Vet: (started typing) "Patient is unable to serve due to species-related limitations including inability to speak, read, or comprehend legal proceedings." Me: Perfect. Sent it in. Got another rejection. "Summons is mandatory. Failure to appear will result in contempt of court." My roommate thought this was hilarious. Roommate: Felix is going to jail. Me: This is serious. Roommate: Bring him to court. See what happens. Decided that was actually the only option left. Day of jury duty, put Felix in his carrier. Brought the entire paper trail of rejection letters. Checked in at the courthouse. Clerk: Name? Me: Felix Martinez. Clerk: (looked at the cat carrier) Is that Felix? Me: Yes. Clerk: (long stare) He's a cat. Me: I've been saying that for six weeks. Clerk: Why didn't you file an exemption? Me: I filed three. All rejected. Showed her the letters. She read through them, expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. Clerk: Someone rejected the veterinary documentation? Me: Twice. Clerk: (called her supervisor over) You need to see this. Supervisor read everything. Looked at Felix. Looked at me. Supervisor: How did a cat get registered to vote? Me: You tell me. Supervisor: This is a data error. Me: Took you six weeks to figure that out. They dismissed Felix immediately. Apologized for the inconvenience. Supervisor: We'll remove him from the voter registry. Me: Appreciate it. Supervisor: (pause) Out of curiosity, how would he have voted? Me: Probably whatever party supports universal treats. Got a formal apology letter a week later and a voter registration card. For me this time. Apparently I wasn't registered, but my cat was. Roommate: Felix committed voter fraud. Me: Felix committed nothing. He's innocent. Roommate: That's what they all say. Felix is sleeping on the jury summons now. Fitting end to his legal career. end id]
"Gandalf, buddy? What have you got there?"
"Oh him? That my emotional support hobbit."
"Uh huh. And what he got?"
"That's my hobbit's emotional support hobbit."
"And I suppose those two are also emotional support hobbits as well?"
"No, of course not. Those two are my emotional distress hobbits."
".....?"
"Keeps me on my toes."