theoscelosaurus

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I’m p

Yes I’m

Yes hmmms ow

Eh

Tnhk

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Night Tram Stockholm

By Jeff Stanford, 2024

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This is still one of the funniest fucking things. Mostly because, due to Internet, one is willing to overlook a lot of the semantic errors until the last six words

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Today's Walrus Is: No Facelift Just Natural Beauty❤️

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This Too Shall Pass

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It's that time again

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oh are you friends? or just dating.

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telling your friends you love them is not weird and should never be considered so

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My dad is a kroger manager and sent me this (repost without personal info)

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Trying to find a nice little row-boat to hire for a thing I'm planning and first of all

googling 'row boat hire [place]' somehow returns page upon page that want you to hire their 'mid-size party boat' seating 40 to 200 people (???) and second

fuck cities?? Last time we hired a boat at home it was 65 SEK (~6€) a day

The cheapest I can find in the city is 300😭

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Customer: I’M A PROFESSIONAL FISHERMAN AND I FISH FOR TUNA ALL OVER THE WORLD DMV: I GOOGLED HIM, HE IS AND HE DOES Verdict: DENIED

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A good rule of thumb for AI is "would you trust a trained pigeon to do this?"

"We trained a pigeon to recognise cancerous cell clusters and somehow they're really good at it" okay great, that's something that could plausibly be a thing.

"We trained a pigeon to recognise good CV:s and left it in charge of sorting through all our job applications" uh perhaps consider not doing that.

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When it was discovered that Zalim (ironically meaning, cruel) was in the company of two very young cubs, those at Ranthambore feared the worst: that, as an adult male, he would kill them. Instead, he surprised naturalists with his “motherly” behavior when he took in his twin daughters following the death of their mother.

At this time, science stated that tigers were only as social as mothers and cubs could go and that tiger fathers rarely interacted with their offspring. Zalim changed that when he was witnessed, month after month, caring for his daughters and teaching them how to hunt. Their relationship eventually ceased when the two girls were shifted to Sariska Tiger Reserve and Zalim went on to father another litter with the then-dominant tigress Sundari, the so-called Lady of the Lakes. When she too mysteriously disappeared, Zalim unsurprisingly took care of their cubs as well.

Ranthambore National Park, India Photograph taken via camera trap

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In one misfortunate year I ended up getting into several car accidents. It cemented my general fear and anxiety in cars, because in each case I was either in the car but not driving or driving safely when suddenly something hit me.

One was my ex driving in an unfamiliar city and cutting someone off on accident that resulted in a sideswipe. Another was getting rear ended when I came to a required stop.

The last was when I had a green arrow at an intersection. I turned and was smashed into by someone running a red light, T-boning my little car.

Dazed and in shock I tottered out of the car to behold a crusty older man eating a donut step out of the offending vehicle. A fire truck arrived to block us off from traffic since my car could no longer move under its own power.

“Were you on your way home from work?” The firemen asked me.

I shook my head, struggling to focus on them, “No,” I said vaguely, “I was on my way home from volunteering at the animal shelter.”

In an instant they were closing ranks around me, glaring at the ambivalent donut man who would dare to hit a tiny frail angel who volunteered at the animal shelter. They asked if I needed to get anything out of my car. I did.

“It’s… uh. It’s a little weird though.”

They gestured for me to proceed. I grabbed a bag with snacks and books and filled it with things I couldn’t just leave in my car. Last out I pulled my cutlass.

“Is that a sword?!”

It was. They were instantly like giant puppy dogs, excited and delighted but trying to mind their manners. The bravest said, “Can we…?” I held out the sword. They whooped with delight, unsheathing and marveling at it.

“Why do you have that in your car?”

“I honestly don’t remember, it’s just a fun thing to have at a party now.”

“Is your wrist okay?”

My shock was wearing off and I realized I was cradling my wrist to my chest. “Oh.” I rummaged into my bag and pulled out a wrist brace.

“Wh….why do you already have that?” I was starting to confuse the firemen. I volunteered with cats, had a sword offhand, and kept a wrist brace in my car bag.

“Sometimes I try to hold books in a way that sprains my wrist? So I have this in my car just in case.”

They stared at me. Maybe, like my wife, they assumed it was for masturbation induced injuries. They handed my sword back as the tow truck arrived and thanked me for letting them play with it. They gave donut man one last glare and drove their big truck away.

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self discipline is so hard like. i know the sucker who's in charge...a pushover who hates authority and loves hedonism