pj

Can we have a Future!Simpsons episode where Bart and Milhouse end up together, and Lisa and Nelson, too, please? They were all meant for each other in that exact combination. The writers know it, we know it. I want to see it, please.

Anyway, have this BartHouse piece I just made because this image popped into my head and I practically vibrated with the urge to draw it!

salad bowl with egg

images (like jpegs, png, psds, etc)

when the air smells good outside

cool water in cup

putting crumpled reciepts in ur back pocket + forgetting about them for days at a time

frank iero.

sleeping in under large woven blankets

talking to urself (lovingly)

But Matt groening actually decided to come on for a live interview, and just did this 👌 for two minutes, and the talking head pundit kept pressing him for “answers,” like this at all mattered

BAM!

I’m out of ideas! XD

LOOOK ATT THIIIIS!!!!

LOOOOK ATTT THIIIISS!!!!

80

*O*

OH MY GOOD!!!!!

ThAT’S IT!!!!

Hitting my knee

We have always been here. 

Vintage MLM love photography post

Vintage WLW love photography post

1) honeybees do not produce “extra honey.” And beekeepers don’t take some of the honey, they take all of it.

Because I am!

Beekeepers make sure hives are fed before there is pollen in the air, protected from predators and the elements, and have enough honey to sustain themselves. We don’t take all of it.

But overproduction of honey leads to stagnation in the hive. It puts stress on the queen to lay eggs, and when they inevitably fill up all their space with honey (instead of filling up the multiple empty, clean boxes of frames beekeepers might put on top of the main hive box), the queen can get so stressed she dies. If there’s a spike in the weather and the hive hasn’t prepared new queen brood, that’s it! The colony is dead. Because there wasn’t enough space for eggs and honey in the hive.

Beekeepers take excess honey. We are constantly monitoring the state of the hive, checking for parasites, analyzing the eggs for diseases, and making sure they are fed and healthy (usually with sugar water and pollen substitutes until they have made enough honey to sustain themselves in the early spring months). If a queen dies prematurely, we make every attempt to replace her to save the colony.

I know there’s an urge to patronize everyone who works in the farming industry, but try to understand the differences between small scale agriculture and industrial farming. There IS a difference. And stop spreading misinformation.

If you’re this passionate about ethical consumption, look into some of the ecofeminist research on non-hierarchal interspecies relationships (working on building animal-human relationships in a non exploitative way).

Yea Chickens are some of the most abused animals on big factory farms and I’ll be the first to admit it’s criminal and more needs to be done to regulate this.

Yes selective breeding over time has caused an increase in the ammount of eggs produced by chickens and factory farms have some messed up practices to get more eggs from them including forced moutling.

THIS IS WHY YOU SUPPORT LOCAL FARMERS AND THEIR EGGS

please reblog this post, especially if you live outside of the philippines. please help us.

i didn't make the carrd, but it's one of the most useful links right now. #JunkTerrorBillNow needs the most urgency, but there are other issues present too.

ok so now think of one native american cartoon character you know of or a sports team relating to native americans whether it’s their actual name or their team logo, or a town you live in or near with a “native” name bet a lot of these things came to you right away i bet you didn’t even have to think 

“This is not good. Oh, oh Lord, this is not good at all.”

Bitty peers through the windshield. The snow is falling in curtains now, thick sheets of white that drift down heavy and soft onto the deserted highway. He runs his wipers a few more times, clears the view, then watches as the snow repaints it dot by frigid dot.

He should have known better than to think he could drive up to Massachusetts with a storm approaching. He should have canceled the trip, postponed it, made other plans. But the promise of a real white Christmas had sounded so intriguing, and Larissa had begged him to make the trip.

“You’ll like Samwell,” she’d told him. “It’s pretty sweet.” Which, from Larissa, was the equivalent of singing its praises from the rooftops. And the pictures she sent were so nice – long flowing river, pond, green spaces on the local college campus coated with a dusting of snow.

What he wouldn’t give for a dusting now!  But no, now, he’s stopped by the side of the highway, Samwell a mere two miles away per the last sign he passed, his own fog lamps the only glare in the sea of white outside.