they/he/she • just a funky fella • that consumes way to much media • horror movie sideblog @rollerskating-vampire •
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"tumblr humor is only funny to tumblr users" NOT true. those bitches on pinterest love us.
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love how Tim is always wet or stinky. He's really going through it.
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i think too many people operate under the assumption that emotions are some frivilous fantasy of the mind and have no impact on the physical world, which is a cute thought when Humans are an animal that can die from being kinda stressed out
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I've seen artwork of them interacting before but i want uhhhh more so im making more.
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June 8, 2025 - Anti-ICE protesters in Los Angeles stop a column of police cars by bombarding them with rocks and objects from an overpass. [video]
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I don't want to donate my body to science when I die. I want to donate my body to magic. Chop my corpse up in pieces, all assorted types divided between the people who want that. Meat to the people who want to make an animal their familiar by feeding it a piece of human flesh. Skin me from waist down in one piece to make a pair of those icelandic infinite money necropants. The rest of my skin can be used for books and drum skins. Fat into candles if I still have any left. And if I still have hair left when I'm at death's door, I'm going to grow it out so somebody can weave it into whatever wacky shit you make out of Dead Man's Hair.
My skull probably has a lot of cool uses, I haven't decided what I'd like best. The rest of my bones are to be sawed up into pieces and divided equally between Tumblr bone stealing witches to do as they please.
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love downloading a pdf to never read. just in case. like lol. you’re coming home with me
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On the phone at work with the woman born in '37 and she was apologizing for complaining about her pain and I was like oh no worries I got fibro I get it and she was like "oh we're in this together then" and as we were laughing about it she unprompted said "so who are we gonna kill about it" and because this is exactly the energy I wish every customer had i instantly replied "well I can't plan that on a line my bosses can hear" which she got a real kick out of. Anyway go grandma
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i dont normally repost instagram shit but the wording of this comment is killing me. like the armored carapace of a beetle. phenomenal
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greta thunberg and 11 others on the flotilla carrying aid to gaza have been kidnapped by the israeli government in international waters.
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Pnf’s best character arc was buford going from ‘generic bully’ to ‘choatic weirdo’
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My mom kept complaining that all of a sudden the Beatles are back and they're fucking everywhere and they're so obnoxious and were practically having an orgy in her garden under a cucumber leaf and that's when I realized she meant spotted cucumber beetles and not Paul McCartney
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No wait, random worldbuilding idea:
A people who have an age-old tradition, that when warriors left home to go to war, their family that remains home prepare funeral goods for them while they wait, sewing them the clothes and preparing the tools and all that they will be buried with - to emotionally prepare them to the hard possibility that the one who left will not return home alive. If the warrior returns, their burial goods are all burned in a bonfire that is lit for the celebration of their return.
And to this modern day, mothers of the culture will tell their children "fine, but let me take your measures for burial clothes before you go" as a way of telling them that something they're about to do is lethally stupid. Sharing stories about just how dramatic their mothers are, someone tells their group of friends that his mother once actually took out a measuring tape to start taking his measures when he said he's leaving home for a work trip.
And another one goes "pfft, yeah. This one time I went to a rock concert and came back home to mom sitting on her sewing machine, fucking making me a funeral coat."
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So last month I got hit by a car and died right. Which I didn't initially realize until I watched some guy haul my body into his pickup and drive off. Which, being that it's deep in rural Michigan, I assume means my body will make some venison jerky and maybe some wall decoration, and I'll be resigned to being one of hundreds of deer ghosts floating around Saginaw, which is w/e. But then I find out the guy works at a taxidermy shop or something, and he's actually pretty good at stuffing and mounting deer carcasses, which I come to find out when I find myself face to face with my old body in the shop window. So naturally, I figure since ghosts need to possess something to interact with the living world and etc etc etc the most logical thing to do is to possess my own body, since it's basically a statue of myself. And a little surprisingly, it actually fits like a glove. Like, since it's my body, it feels like stepping right back into place. So I get out of town and back to my herd, eventually. And that's where the trouble starts coming into it, because after I get settled again, I don't know how to explain to everyone else what feels so weird. Like since I can move my body and do everything I used to do, it's functionally the same, like nothing happened. Or it SHOULD be, so I don't know how to explain how it's NOT. But it's just hard to explain it to someone who's never been hit by a truck I guess
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