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shout out to the doctor who looked at my physical results and said 'you will live to 100!' and then looked at my mental health results and said '...if you want to'

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Please meet Rube Goldberg.

While collecting eggs a couple of weeks ago, this egg slipped out of my hands from 5 feet up above wood, wire, and cement. Quail eggs are VERY fragile when it comes to impacts, so this egg's life flash before my eyes and time slowed down as I watched the world's most ridiculous accidental cartoon egg drop.

It somehow missed every obstacle on the way down (3 shelves) in order to land upon the side of a milk jug I had dropped the day before. It bounced off of that to a couple feet away, and hit the side of a hay bale. It bounced off of that, and somehow landed on the open lip of an empty feed back laying on the floor that I had put down under the towers to prevent the cement from sinking heat from the space. The bag gently collapsed, and rolled the pristine egg to a stop back at my feet.

I stared at it in disbelief. I took it inside and candled it- not a crack in it. So I noted the pen I got it from (CER) and scribbled "dropped?" on it. I figured SURELY it would not develop after that kind of nonsense, but when I candled at lockdown, the little thing was ready to go.

So, I stuck the egg into its own hatching bag, and sure as shit, the little fucker hatched!

And as if the rest of the story is not weird enough, this is possibly the first coturnix chick in the world who didn't immediately faceplant off of a human hand in the pursuit of the cold embrace of death. It just sat there, posing with the egg. Looking around like Hm so this is what being alive is... it's alright I guess.

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me: i don’t want to see jellyfish so i will blacklist the tag #jellyfish

people with no common sense: je11yf1sh, je11¥fi5h, j*llyf*sh, je//ÿf!sh, j3ï||yf¡sh, gel lee fisk

result: cannot account for the sheer amount of possible ways to alter the word jellyfish

conclusion: i have to see jellyfish now.

Once again, tumblr is not tiktok, tag properly.

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yeah it's called my mutuals circle on tumblr

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so called nonchalant idgafers

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Rahul Kohli made the mistake of saying reylo doesn't make him horny and then he apologized saying it DOES make him horny and now this is happening in the comments under his apology

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It's end of May, yall know what that means

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If my nipples want to be the star of my outfit who am I to stop them

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a few doors down from me my neighbors have a squirrel bar nailed to the tree in front of the sidewalk, not exactly this but something like this:

it's been there for years and they never "stock" it so it's just sitting there. anyway, i thought it would be cute to make a little squirrel out of sculpey and leave it on one of the stools in the middle of the night. i also made a little sculpey beer bottle with its own label.

it lasted exactly one day and now it is gone. it didn't fall off, i stuck it on with tape. what do you think happened to it? your most fantastical and wrong answers only, please

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If you think of any worthwhile novel—its intersecting arcs, its intertwined themes and metaphors—no one is clever enough to do it. When you have crammed your head with data, you have to take your hands off and see what shapes the story forms. You must trust the process, and that can be difficult, because you have to quell anxiety; the task is to get out of your own way. I think this is true for all worthwhile fiction, not just historical fiction. At the centre of your work is an act of faith in the novel form. You employ what Keats called "negative capability"—you must endure doubt and follow paths without signposts.

—Hilary Mantel, in an interview with The Guardian

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