unfortunately I’m watching supernatural and someone on screen said ‘there are No Wolves in pennsylvania’ and I was like. what a bold incorrect statement. where did they possibly get that idea from. so I googled it…google is insisting there are no wild wolves in pa?? except I’ve Seen wolves here?? there used to be a wolf that would hang out in my backyard and roam around the neighborhood?? like Everyone knew about this wolf we assumed he lived on the golf course and would come to our yards if he got spooked by golfers (very quiet block). like we all thought he just lost his pack or whatever so people just gave him a wide space and let him chill, he didn’t try to break into any houses or attack any pets but this was definitely. a wild wolf. where. where did he come from what do you MEAN there aren’t wolves in pennsylvania I’m literally spiraling right now

still feeling so gut-punched over this

To be fair, PA also said “we did not reintroduce mountain lions, they are not there, you’re seeing really big house cats, please keep coming to the parks and camp sites and ignore that video, that was totally not a mountain lion, someone took last week”

okay I’m sorry but this came up on pinterest and I Screamed

you are the state of Pennsylvania (allegedly)

i just showed this to a friend from pennsylvania and 1. theyre losing their mind bc theyve seen mountain lions which prompted them to look it up which leads me to 2. this fucking bonkers article

[caption: “We’ve been here 45 years and I’ve probably been told by people at least 100 t imes that they’ve seen a cougar or mountain lion,” said owner Vince Hall. “I kind of doubt they saw a cougar, but I’m not God.”]

PA: I can’t believe we’ve lost all our native apex predators Citizens of PA: there’s a mountain lion right there PA: sometimes we can still hear the sound of them scaring away tourists

…PA has fucking EMUS and you want me to believe we have no wolves or mountain lions?

what the fuck do you mean we have emus

http://emusontheridge.com/ https://www.abc27.com/news/us-world/strange/update-runaway-perry-county-emu-found-after-seven-months-on-the-run/

Guys, I’ve cracked it

This thing goes all the way to the top

what the fuck is happening in pennsylvania

As a regretful born and raised Pennsylvanian, we have wolves, coywolves, mountain lions, lynx, and coyotes. Not a single person in authority will admit to there being anything but coyotes and lynx. If you see a cougar, they will tell you you saw a lynx. If you see a wolf, they will tell you you saw a coyote. Ignore the massive differences in sizes. No one knows what a coywolf is but we have them. I have seen a cougar with my own two goddamned eyes. There is an entire nature park whose main attractions are the cougars and wolves (and bison but we’re not talking about them) - it’s called Penn’s Cave, it’s been there forever. Everyone I know has seen a cougar or wolf at least once in the woods.

So what I’m getting at is don’t trust the government.

“the state of Pennsylvania is gaslighting its citizens about the native wildlife”

My spouse was born in PA (Bethlehem, Mt Sinai) and he is enjoying this entire thread, which we might show his cousins who live in Philly and have seen the These Aren’t Cougars.

somehow instead of saying "as a treat", I've started using the phrase "for morale", as if my body is a ship and its crew, and I (the captain) have to keep us in high spirits, lest we suffer a mutiny in the coming days.

and so I will eat this small block of fancy cheese, for morale. I will take a break and drink some tea, for morale. I will pick up that weird bug, for morale.

I'm not sure if it helps, but it does entertain me

If those trees were pollarded annually, the cut areas would NOT look like that. There would be big knobs of old growth at the trimming sites. Not seeing any of that here. The way those trees were topped (not pollarded, which is a very careful process that has to begin when the tree is immature) is excellent way to kill them due to loss of hydration, open sites to infection and parasitism during the best time of year for both, lack of nutrition due to so little greenery and new budding growth being left, sunburn and other exposure damage, and a myriad of other possibilities. Plus, if they were topped annually, they would not have the lovely drooping branches seen in the other picture but would have tons of vertical suckers instead.

This is what an annually pollarded mature tree should look like:

If this was done by the city, the public works arborists should be protesting in front of city hall and screaming their heads off right now. I'm not hearing about that, so... Tree law!

The Studios: *speak*

Botanists and other Tree Experts:

Update and confirmation of Imminent Tree Law:

He mentions later in the thread that not only do they not trim the trees annually, they’re trimmed at best once every 18 years. Supposed to be every five, and only in dormancy, which even my layman’s ass knows about tree trimming.

And yes, Universal can probably eat the fine. But it’s gonna be a whopper even if the trees survive (which is as mentioned kinda unlikely), California is a triple damage state for tree law, and it may increase dramatically if there were nesting birds in the trees.

All this to be a Captain Planet filler villain to some writers. And yes, it’s currently just the writers officially picketing there; SAG-AFTRA recommended against it for petty bullshit like this and the suddenly necessary sidewalk construction.

my brother started calling our cat "doobie brother" which he then lengthened to "dubious brother" and has since morphed into "brother dubious" like he's some sort of fucked up little monk

brother dubious

Brother Dubious can often be found wandering the halls late at night it seems

No, but that’s exactly something that should be put in a museum.

Imagine seeing this two, three, eight hundred years after the fact. Imagine this little girl through centuries of time holding up her hand to show you her most precious rock. It’s potent enough now, this intimate knowledge of a complete stranger, this tiny insight into what was explained to her and what she thought was important and who listened to her long enough to let you see it, but imagine centuries in the future. Imagine this little bit of rock that looks like every other bit of rock, with no context and no explanation to it. And then imagine finding/seeing this little sign, and realising that it was Bethan’s rock. That it was a rock that a little girl loved the look of , and picked up, and carried around with her, and when it was explained to her that museums were places where precious things were shown so that other people could see and enjoy them, the precious thing she wanted them to show, that she wanted to show you, was this rock.

This is what material history is. These windows through time into a person’s life and beliefs and mundane treasures, these bridges across centuries where a child a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand years ago can show you her favourite rock.

That is, in so many ways, what museums are for. And well done them for following through.

Senpai says you’re welcome

Reblogging again because I just realized that if I had this advice in high school I would’ve never made a tumblr account.

Also works for most of those news sites like WSJ or NYT that only let you read a little bit, or block adblockers. Also some disable the scroll bar but if you go to the right side of the console after hitting F12 and look for the CSS element “overflow” and change it from “hidden” to “visible” then you can continue scrolling for free. Might have to click around on different parts of the page to find it, but it should work.

There’s also a Firefox/Chrome extension called Behind The Overlay that does all that with one mouse click. Used it for years; what a time saver.

And if you encounter a true paywall, use Archive.Today to bypass it. Just paste the paywalled url into the blue “search archived snapshots” box near the bottom:

I was teaching kids today and they got fixated on the usual ‘are they dead now?’ question when I was talking about historical figures. So I was just like ‘Yes, they’re dead now, everyone who was alive in the 1800s is dead now.’ and then one kid was like ‘Except for you’.

I’m sorry to hear about your scalp.

Okay I must clear this up more concretely since this has gone far beyond my circle of folks who have the context of Why This Is Actually Funny, because there are thousands of people here who are like ‘kids are so rude, kids are so evil, I hate kids’ when…

1) Kids are little humans and they’re learning and they should be treated as little humans who are learning. Don’t be a dick to kids. Adults who are assholes to kids is such a bad look, and kids remember that shit.

2) This particular child was being SO earnest and ‘except for you’ was said not as an insult but like ‘oh…you’re the last one left 😢’.

I dress like this everyone:

[ID: image of a person wearing a puffy 18th century shirt, waistcoat, and cravat.]

Thank u, goodnight.

Embroidered Apron // Katyusha Aprons

her eyes were the sickly green of the sky before a tornado, and to his horror he discovered she could throw cows around just as easily

to his horror? weak shit. outta my way gayboy im boutta get it

all of our trobles seem so small from up here

as soon as the internet decided depression and anxiety were the everyman mental illnesses and therefore not to be taken seriously we were all fucked tbh bc the fact that i have to feel embarrassed to admit i have debilitating anxiety because people will think im just an uwu dont call me out coward is ridiculous. its insane that i have to clarify that my depressive episodes are like life threatening and not whatever dipshit dumbed down idea of depression people seem to have like oh yeah i just wanna watch netflix and eat ice cream and not text people back. like bro i think im the devil

like maybe depression and anxiety are household names now but they do still kill people. like. theres a reason they fucking kill people.

Just found out my facebook birding group is public because my cousin (a lawyer who is not into birds) casually said to me “saw you couldn’t identify a willet the other day… pretty embarrassing”

Not seeing the issue here. This is the epitome of art

Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.

Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.

Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.

You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.

As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.

Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.

This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.

A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.

i just ate a crepe so delicious juicy and good im about to forgive french people

my gf just ripped some ungodly ass that had my eyes watering i mean absolutely noxious it was so bad i made her leave the bedroom until she was done and i opened the window and shoved my head out so i didn’t throw up breathing in the tainted air of our once peaceful bedroom.

anyways once it dissipated and i got back into bed she walked back in and looked me in the eyes and said “sorry for farty rocking 🥺”

this is what she looked like

me: “haha farts are funny”

whoever this is: