Vladimir Serov, The Worker (1960) and The Builder (1964)
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@theladypirate
Vladimir Serov, The Worker (1960) and The Builder (1964)
transition timeline
winding up for a thunderous soviet slap on th ass

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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Art Fight Attacks!
My Hitlist, if you're interested in an attack <3
Spin this wheel of gross foods from Neopets. I will pay you $500 to eat your result.
Are you taking the offer?
Hell yeah
I will begrudgingly suffer through it for the money
I would eat it but only for $1000
I am not eating it under any circumstances
[See results button]
This but make it domestic Spirk:
Maaan, this Ernest Chiriacka illustration has been in my K/S inspiration folder for over a year now!! Thank you for making this post—this was the push I needed to finally make it happen xD
✨ Full size on AO3 ✨
taking the fat clit express!!!!!

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Mr. Beast is such a fascinating public figure cause he's the only one who's willing to outright say stuff like how his success came at the cost of his joy and human passions but when you look him in the eyes it's clear that he doesn't consider this a bad thing
Actually I'm not sure you can detect any core beliefs or emotions or even the will to live on Mr. Beast's face, but that's exactly the point. He appears completely content with being a brand instead of a human being
I take it back - he believes in, apparently, the Mormon church.
“There’s simply no room for me to park my hellcat” wins best in show for me.
it pains me to say it but the more people talk shit about the women who wear those shorts/leggings with the weird butt seam that looks like it gives you a terminal wedgie, the more compelled I feel to take the women’s side
ohhhhhh my godddddddd you saw someone wearing really tight revealing pants in public? should we throw a party? should we invite goody proctor
and while we’re at it, I’m done worrying about cameltoe. I don’t have time to be pulling and tugging at my clothes all day. if you can see the outline of my pussy you should say thank you and go about your business
SAME WITH NIPPLES!!!!
high ambient background football levels reminded me to actually finish this Personal Lore That Caused My Books comic
Human Is is a 1955 Philip K. Dick sci-fi short story where a guy goes to another planet for work and when he comes back to Earth his personality has flipped from an asshole to a sweet, kind, considerate man. Everyone's immediately convinced that an alien has taken over his body, this goes all the way to court, and in court his wife testifies that she's noticed no changes at all and so the charges are dropped.
And then there's a bit right at the end of the story as the wife and the husband are walking out of court:
Jill turned abruptly. "What is your name? Your real name."
The man's gray eyes flickered. He smiled a little, kind, gentle smile. "I'm afraid you would not be able to pronounce it. The sounds cannot be formed..."
Jill was silent as they walked along, deep in thought. The city lights were coming on all around them. Bright yellow spots in the gloom. "What are you thinking?" the man asked.
"I was thinking perhaps I will still call you Lester," Jill said. "If you don't mind."
"I don't mind," the man said. He put his arm around her, drawing her close to him. He gazed down tenderly as they walked through the thickening darkness, between the yellow candles of light that marked the way. "Anything you wish. Whatever will make you happy."
And I. God. There's something there. A soupcon of monsterfuckery. To tell your partner in a moment of intimacy that yes, you're something so inhuman that the lips you're stealing can't speak your actual name. You're a parasite that not only had the ability to burrow under this man's skin and take over his life, but you were so desperate to escape a dead, dry, blasted planet that you did.
And for your partner to then turn around and go "I know, I've always known, and I love you" is just. God I know it's not a great Dick story but something about it is making me lose my mind
Also it's explicitly stated that the guy's consciousness is still alive and preserved on the alien planet. Jill is told this and then proceeds to defend the alien anyways, ensuring that her husband's brain is stuck in a jar on a desert planet. You love to see it

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I think about this like once a day
I have heard a variant on it that I really like: "You cannot hate yourself into someone you can love."
this fourth of july I am coming out as a hater about fireworks. no more fireworks. fireworks are neither necessary nor good. they kill and harm birds and wildlife, they pollute the air, they are loud and unpleasant, they terrify my dog, and they trigger people's PTSD. I hate fireworks. can we please not do fireworks anymore

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honey is the only food product that never spoils. there are pots of honey that are over five thousand years old and still completely edible
i also want to point out we know it tastes the same even after thousands of years b/c archaeologists who discovered two thousand year old honey tasted it. presumably right after they looked at each other and went “what the hell here goes nothing”
I’m pretty sure they also identify human remains by taste. Archaeologists are straight up freaks.
No, no no… you identify bone from rock or other substances by touching it to your tongue. If it sticks, it’s bone. The taste itself has nothing to do with it. And most archaeologists won’t lick human bones if they know they’re human.
…and I realize that doesn’t actually do much to prove archaeologists aren’t freaks.
mai nam is jane and wen i dig i fynde some roks both smol and big i put my tung upon the stone for science yes i lik the bone
I’m sitting with a bunch of archaeologists and we just laughed so hard we CRIED we’re getting tshirts with this on them
I will never ever get tired of seeing bredlik poems. It is really one of the seminal art forms of the century. I am not being sarcastic.
If I ever don’t reblog this, assume I’m dead and archaeologists are licking my bones.