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...Swans. Yes.

NOT cat asses.

*takes off glasses and starts trying to remove obvious curse on lenses*

A Pair of Greek Gold, Hardstone & Enamel Earrings,

The enameled swans hang from a granulated disc, which is reminiscent of the decoration of Macedonian shields due to the semicircles extending from the edge.

Chains decorated with emerald beads hang down from the sides.

Hellenistic Period, Circa 3rd - 1st Century B.C.

1 7⁄16 in. (3.6 cm.) long.

Courtesy: Christie's

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YOUR KITTIES!!!!

<3 <3 <3

I've spent the day writing horribly depressing stuff, and I need a palate cleanser. I thought that maybe y'all do too, so here are Scout and SpyBoy. Look at my cats, ye mutuals, and do not despair. Scout:

Commodore SpyBoy Captain of the SS TinyMan

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BELL, CA, KICKED OUT ICE TODAY!

For anyone looking to replicate this:

Put physical barriers between ICE and their victims.

MAKE FUCKING NOISE. Be outright impossible to overlook.

Get anyone you can there immediately, including the fire department. Seems like the local cops (sheriffs, from the uniforms) were helpful here--try and see if your local PD is useful for this.

Call the news, livestream a video, make it public.

You CAN scare ICE. Get in the way and make a scene. If they've got masks on, they don't want attention--give it to them, and make damn sure the whole planet knows they're here.

We've won once. We can do it again.

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....

*glances at the local wildlife*

Then in that case:

*steals your fish and runs off to eat it*

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This is psyanky! It originated in Ukraine or thereabouts, and there are a LOT of different kinds. People have noted it in Russia, and other nations, so the tradition has spread quite a lot.

Slava Ukraini!

Source

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This is a longer post, but bear with me, I'm trying to make it easy to read.

I'm clumsy. Living on my own for the first time, there's always a chance I'm gonna lose stuff--I'll break it, or it'll get contaminated with something, or some other weird.

But I really wanted some nice dishes. So when I saw a horrific 70's-style mug, I thought, you know what? This is awesome. I should buy it.

So I did.

And it broke. Took out my silverware, my other dishes, and my can opener with it--the shards got everywhere.

So I could've given up. I could've gotten paper plates and plastic cups and never gotten anything nice again. Obviously it'll just get wrecked, right?

Or...I could have gone to the store and looked for plastic.

Why plastic? Because the problem was it breaking. But plastic will just bonk the floor and be fine.

And I found some absolutely gorgeous plastic, and I am now eating and drinking out of my Very Nice Dishes. And when they fail, I will find the problem that made that happen, and I'll try again.

When we think about nuclear war, that's terrifying. And it seems like there's no way to stop it. It seems like we'll all just die tomorrow and nothing will work.

But that's kind of like me being clumsy. Part of me says 'you'll just break it'. And I might...but in the meantime, I got something just a bit better.

We might die tomorrow. But what if we have more trees? More flowers? Better parks?

In the 50's, people were very sure that nuclear war was coming. They wouldn't live past five years from then. They built bunkers, but never expected them to work.

But they also planted trees, and made parks, and started figuring out how to clean up the planet. Because sure, they might not get a lot out of it...but it was sure nice to have rivers that weren't on fire, and more flowers, and parks, and maybe it was worth it.

It's 2025. We aren't dead. Our grandparents planted trees and we rest in their shade.

And if we plant some more trees? We get to watch them get bigger, and even if the bombs fall--and they haven't yet--then we still may get that week, that month, that year...

Of enjoying what we did.

Even if we all die tomorrow, we can be happy that we tried tonight. We can enjoy getting outside, meeting other people, planting trees and cleaning rivers and being able to do something good with ourselves.

I really like my new dishes. Even if I lose them, they're worth having them for a while.

If we fight for the environment, it may pay off in the long run. If it doesn't, we still got to be happy.

It's worth it. I promise.

why bother caring about the environment when 1. It’s so obviously a lost cause and 2. There’s definitely going to be a nuclear war?

And what are you doing about it Anon? Learn about ecological restoration or get out of my way.

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#don't order your steak well-done#that's fear talking#otherwise#do what you want (not tagging who said this because...well)

Discussion questions:

What did OP say in the last three paragraphs of the post?

What is the difference between a list of things, and a list of examples of an idea?

OP's post looks like a list at first. After reading the last three paragraphs, do you still think it's a list?

Hey, take it from someone creeping towards 40:

Ignore the fun police.

If you like it, order your steak well done. Get your bagel toasted with jam and butter. Put ice in your scotch and ketchup on your hotdog. Get red wine with fish and white with steak. Who cares?

If you want to, listen to pop music. Watch blockbuster popcorn flicks. Read dime store novels. Enjoy them.

Dye your hair or cut it off. Paint your fingernails blue. Wear whatever the fuck you want on your own time (ie, when not at a job or school or whatever where you can get penalized for breaking rules) as long as you aren’t like welding or shoveling snow.

Anyone who tries to tell you you’re wrong? Say “okay” and go back to what you were doing. You’re not hurting them by enjoying yourself or having things the way you like them.

There are no caveats or addendums to this. No “but what about x?” Nah. You’re allowed the things you like. You don’t have to justify your taste or apologize for it if it’s not hurting anyone.

And likewise, let other people live their lives. We’re all dead in the long run, so tend your own garden before you become fertilizer in it.

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...So this is actually an upside to psychosis. If you hallucinate, you can actually do this, and you get bonuses like 'fictional superheroes', 'pretty girls', 'various funny animals', and others.

The downside is that you will never, ever be able to explain the single most hilarious version of poker you and your hallucinations have created, because it starts with 'so they're all alien royals' and ends with 'and that's why it's called White Trash Poker, and you really can't let kids play it, even if the Squirrel Dance was stolen from a Boy Scout troop reminder to not lose your stuff on camping trips'.

this sucks so bad im gonna (remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health) divide my personality into different characters and solve personal dilemmas by having debate-style discussions with them

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I do the opposite of gatekeeping, I’m not going to shut up until you like this thing as much as I do

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Haters

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#Is your mom a military commander??#every other safety brief ive had has used this word for word lol via @clairdecalluna

Your commanding officers sound like they knew their audience.

(For normal people...https://www.f-16.net/callsigns.html That might explain some of why I'm laughing.)

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Gonna get myself a fun little surprise I guess

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This is.

BAD???? By YOUR standards?

ARE YOUR STANDARDS THAT OF GOD???

due to factors such as "time pressure" and "tulle is of the devil" my expectations for this shirt are not high. but i spent a lot of time imagining these button bands and they turned out pretty nice

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So about the LED votives...

You can get LED 'candles' at the dollar tree. New. No thrifting required--it's a dollar for a pack of, I think, 20 or 30 tealights? And a full votive is a buck.

Fair warning, though, you'll get half your pack stolen if you have a power outage and live with any roommates.

Proof of concept for a simple, cheap, flatpack lantern!

Two squares off a 1x4, holes drilled in the top piece for a rope handle; popsicle sticks for the sides, stuck together with woodglue (and stained beforehand) with magnets in the corners. Cicada wing paper glued to the frames. The magnets attach to little tack nails hammered into the squares of wood.

I think on the next ones I'll make the rope handle go though both the top and bottom for extra strength. But this can be held up with just the magnets holding it together, which is pretty good!

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I am once again going to say:

You were befriended not by a real horse, but by what is apparently a very you-friendly demon.

Someday you will clearly meet that demon again...and conquer the afterlife's equestrian tournaments, and then possibly a few planets.

You were Chosen.

(Also any followers, the pinned donation request this lovely person has is linked in their post, and if you have a few bucks then this is likely a good place to send it to.)

Horse Story #6 for @elodieunderglass

Strange Appetites, Part Two Michael was renowned for his phenomenal jumping ability, his passion for committing crimes, his maniacal genius as an escape artist, his implacable hatred for all things feathered, and his murderous rage. Most of all, though, he was known for his bizarre taste in food and his Strange Appetites. It put his biteyness into perspective...yes, his desire to bite any human that came within reach was an aspect of his hatred of all living things, but more than that it was a compulsion to consume human flesh. He had Unspeakable Cravings and the mind of a Mad Scientist. Michael would eat anything. Anything at all. The weirder the better. If any food was left unattended, he would appear out of nowhere and inhale it. This is an incomplete list of Things Michael Devoured:

An entire extra large pepperoni, olives, and onion pizza At least three salami and cheese sandwiches Flamingos *

Two and one half (formerly) live chickens ** A birthday cake, including the unlit candles A rotisserie chicken Champagne A two liter bottle of root beer Presumed to have eaten an entire incubator full of baby chicks *** Two ham and cheese sandwiches Half a honey baked ham, a sweet potato pie, and 36 dinner rolls He was an ecumenical eater, not a gourmand. If it was vaguely food shaped, he would eat it, with gusto. His appetite was impressive, horrifying, and very UnHorselike. Veterinarians were baffled and repulsed. Michael never once got colic, or even indigestion, though his flatulence was appalling. All of these decades later, I am still unconvinced that Michael was truly a horse. With his esoteric appetites, heinous personality, and demonic disregard for All That is Good and Decent, the Creature of Nightmare he most resembled is... ...a Politician. * The day I first encountered Michael, he jumped the infield fence at Santa Anita, plunged into the resident flock of flamingos, and emerged with a mouthful of feathers **The owner of the stable raised prize show chickens. One morning, he went into the fenced chicken enclosure and discovered his favorite rooster was gone, only a bit of blood and feathers remaining. The next day, one of his hens was missing. This was baffling, as the chicken wire was unbroken and the door was still latched. He decided to stay up all night to catch the culprit, but fell asleep. He awoke to find Michael in the doorway of the enclosure, with a chicken in his mouth. He yelled in horror. Michael, surprised, bit down. The back half of the chicken fell to the ground. The front half was never seen again. We were ordered to leave the stable immediately. ***Days before the Chicken Incident, an incubator full of chicks had been knocked over, with not a single chick to be found. The stable owner was convinced that Michael had done it, and had eaten all the chicks. A Not Unreasonable assumption. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you like the Michael Stories, we are going through a terrible time and really need help. Please reblog my pinned post, or toss a coin to my Kofi if you can. https://ko-fi.com/idiomagic