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[ID: A three-panel comic, rendered in watercolor art. Panel one shows a person with blonde hair in a maid outfit (long blue dress, apron, hair kerchief), crying. Text above reads "Make a Terrible Comic Day '25". Panel two shows a fairy godmother figure (green dress, green hair, serene eyes-closed expression, gold crown, and wand with a star on the end) appearing and the maid looking up toward the fairy godmother with a hopeful smile. Panel three shows a blonde (same shade as the maid's hair) wolf sitting on a cliff, howling up at a crescent moon. A thought bubble from the wolf reads "This fucking rules". /end ID]

I heard it was Make a Terrible Comic Day

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Honestly, what I think the difference between Jumba creating "evil experiments to destroy the world" and every other evil scientist that does the same: is that Jumba is very Aware that his experiments are Living, Breathing, Sentient beings with indipendant thoughts and capable of complex emotions, and while he's surprised when they go against their "programming" he isn't angry or upset, he's delighted, he laughs, he tells Lilo and Stitch what they were meant for and they use that info to find the "cousin" a new home where they can fit in - use their evil for more constructive/harmless tasks. Tasks, that while Jumba is a little miffed that he isn't conquering the galaxy with his experiments, he is just happy his little lab rats are happy.

He's very blasse about it too! And encouraging! He's a father to 626[plus some more] monsters lmao Jumba literally like: I created you to do this, but you are not doing it. Why? Ah, no matter have fun, try not to lose fingers. It messy.

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When I (M29) was a young boy (M7) my father (M35) took me into the city (X167) to see a marching band (M23, M21, M22, F22, M24, M25, F21, M

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Damage prediction on pears during transportation.

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Happy 10th birthday to the best tweet of all time.

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“it’s circus work.” not to me. not if it’s my monkeys.

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[ID: Two mostly black and white illustrations of a person with ADHD and their personified brain. In the first, labeled "10 AM", the pale pink brain is slumped contentedly in the person's lap. It has a face (eyes and mouth with faintly-drawn cheek circles) and two arms, which hang loose over the person's leg. The brain's eyes are closed, mouth in a small smile with the tongue blepped out, and a word bubble by it utters purrs as the person pets it. The smiling person, their own eyes squinched shut, thinks "Awwww... We're doing so good today... I bet we can do without our ADHD meds."

The second image is labeled "3 PM" and the person now grits their teeth in wild-eyed frustration as they try to hold the thrashing brain with their arms and chin. The brain is translucent from motion as it whips through different moods: huge-eyed and teary with an up-tipped face and a wide open mouth, stretched in a distraught grimace ; rearing up enranged, glaring with heavy brows and slit-pupiled eyes, mouth oversized in an upside-down U with pointy teeth and a flexed tongue ; pulling away with huge, rounded eyes and an exaggerated "ooo!" puckered mouth, as well as stretched-out, grabby hands.

/end ID]

fool me once, fool me twice, fool me ten times, fool me twenty times

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Murderbot is such a neurodivergent power fantasy. It can

- store unlimited media and watch it privately

- turn down sensory organs that are bothering it

- look at stuff without its eyes

- cross reference its data storage when it doesn't know what to say

- program "human-like behavior"

- super duper kill the shit out of anyone that fucks with it

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magic system where “dark magic” and “light magic” are literal terms - dark magic consumes photons, making an area around the spell visibly darker, sometimes to an Extreme extent, and light magic releases photons.

because of this most dark mages tend to work in very brightly-lit areas (either artificial light or outside in the daytime) to fuel their spells and wear and use lightly coloured clothes and tools so that they’re easier to see in the dimness their spells create, whereas light mages wear heavy, sometimes leaden robes (depending on the work being done) and the magical equivalent of welding masks to protect themselves from what can be an extreme amount of light, and sometimes other kinds of electromagnet radiation!

needless to say this is incredibly confusing for anyone unfamiliar with the culture

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every generation has a - hang on post cancelled I wanna talk about this autocomplete suggestion

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underrated funny part of system collapse is murderbot repeatedly being like 'no one knows wtf three wants to do ever because three doesn't know how to want things yet' but most of three's narration in network effect was 'i want to rescue murderbot. i want to do a good job rescuing murderbot. i hope i get a good grade in rescuing murderbot. i want to rescue murderbot so bad that im going to attempt to talk a terrifying murderous spaceship out of its plan for a planetary bombardment' mb just consistently says the most blatantly wrong shit about everyone it's ever met lmao

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Grave offerings and burying the dead with tools and goods is actually such a deeply human thing to do. It's not really even necessarily about how much you believe in a literal afterlife or them taking the tools with them. It's also just going Wait, I'm Not Done Taking Care Of You, let me make you one more pair of socks so your feet won't be cold when you go wherever it is where I can't follow.

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[ID 1: A yellow chick with a black back standing in left profile in a human hand. A cracked-open, dark-speckled, pale blue egg is beside the chick. The sheared-off top of the egg shell has "CER dropped?" written on it.

ID 2: Under a red (heat lamp?) light, seen from the side and above, the chick is laying down on its belly in the human hand. Its fluff is lightly ruffled and its eyes are squinched shut.

/end ID]

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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Bernard Vié. Chat descendant l’escalier, 2009. Bronze patiné. 61 x 36 x 13 cm

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the Wriothesler