stupidideaengineer - Tumblr blog

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obsessed with this baby hippo from thailand's khao khew zoo.. she has been so utterly betrayed by the world

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Dogs have had many jobs throughout history, in this case: Revenge.

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Patons Wallace & Gromit - Gromit [Full pattern PDF: Google Drive / archive.org]

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aparently in the latest fantastic 4 comics johnny storm has been in a relationship with an alien, and that would be pretty standard affair for marvel heroes, right.

except someone at marvel with fucking balls of steel and the biggest brain in the known universe made the alien look... actually alien

this is the greatest thing ive seen in my life, is almost enough to make me want to read the comic

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really helpful technique ^ once you know how to divide by halves and thirds it makes drawing evenly spaced things in perspective waaay easier:

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ah shit they're gaining on us. we gotta jettison some weight. throw all those stolen boomerangs out we don't need em

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Working in the yarn shop on Sundays, I have a group of regulars who come in specifically then for my advice on their knitting projects and over the years I've gotten to know a lot about them - their ailments and their spouses and their children and their careers and their mothers are all things they find themselves telling me about over the course of trying to bring forth a knitted piece. Most of them are women, most of them are over 50, and most of them have been through a lot and are trying to reclaim something for themselves through the act of creation. A while back, one of these older women opened up to me about how when she first came to this country it was just her and her daughter and they were so happy until her husband joined them, when he promptly began making her miserable. Now, decades later, all her children live far away, she spends all her time taking the husband to dialysis, her sciatic is bad and she may need heart surgery (who will take care of her, I find myself wondering), and she comes to see me once a month or so to talk about a new project and tells me it is the only thing she does for herself.

Today she came in with a smile on her face and delightedly introduced me to her son, who will soon move closer to home with his family. Then she says, as if commenting on the weather, that on Friday her husband died, and tomorrow they will hold the funeral. For a second I had tonal whiplash from the conversation and then I realized, oh, you're unburdened now. Like the relief in her face and her body were palpable. The son shows a picture of a cardigan to me and asks if it can be knitted, and we pick out yarn and a pattern. She's so excited to make it for him. She beams when she looks at him; he is tall and handsome and polite, and wants to wear something she made for him. She is proud of this man she raised.

It just made me think of the many, many women who come from cultures where leaving a crappy spouse isn't an option so they shuttle along doing their best and trying to find some beauty and joy in whatever way they can. Kids may not visit often because their spouse isn't welcoming or there is bad blood, so they are lonely. I remind her, we have our social group. She hasn't come to it much before because she is always taking him to dialysis, but now she says she will come often and meet the other women. Many of them are like her, but in the craft they find companionship that has been absent for so much of their lives. I hope there will be renewal for this dear lady and that she can learn more about herself and what brings her joy.

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The foam was not as gross looking irl😂😭

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this made me cry so now i need everyone to see it

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snake sweater, snake sweater

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for whatever reason tumblr has flagged this post from a deleted blog as explicit so I can't even reblog it anymore which is a shame because it's one of my absolute favorites

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my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.

i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.

point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.

i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.

i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.

i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.

(i think i was...six?)

anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.

(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)

so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?

so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.

the compost pile was full of worms.

she then told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and go to heaven, and be able to talk to the worms face to face. that i'd be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident, driven only by excessive Love, and that she was positive they would forgive me because worms have six hearts and no malice.

at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.

and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.

but because she loved me.

[stupidideaengineer]

i saw this comic and thought that Donald canonically has adhd or is majourly depressed

I got 1 task done today. I emptied the big trash can in my bedroom. That's one less fork to deal with.

I have severe executive dysfunction. I've been dealing with it by having myself do one small task a day. So far it's helped a lot. By doing it this way my brain doesn't freak out trying to tackle everything at once.

I got my inspiration for it from this Donald Duck comic:

[stupidideaengineer]

you guys can't make posts like this i am steering clear from lesbian media but it is hard when i read about it constantly!!!

GAP the series: two fully adult women with internet access in 2022 in high-tech Bangkok are so clueless about lesbian sex or where to acquire information about it that they need to have an emergency intervention by their full friend group

The Loyal Pin: two sheltered noble ladies in an isolated palace somewhere in Thailand in the 1950s are fueled simply by 20 years of yearning and lesbianism that they know exactly what to do just by instinct

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