“ur overthinking this” bro I have anxiety. I have no other type of thinking available
dandelions are magic. literally tiny suns in the grass that turn into the moon and then the stars when you blow on them. fucking insane.
Fucking insane
holy shit
Quarantine giving me time to make all the dumb jokes I always wanted
There was one of those hyperspecific polls that had an option like “your grandfather told you war stories that he never told anyone else” and now I feel like I have to tell the story about how a spider saved my grandpa’s life in WWII and how my family doesn’t kill spiders because we owe our existence to that One Single Spider
So to set the scene, it's the height of WWII in France and my grandpa—a 6'3" 20 year old upper Michigan farm boy—has been separated from his company after their temporary camp was shelled. My grandpa (who, I have to add, was nicknamed 'the Suicide Kid' at this point because he worked in demolitions and bomb interception and kept taking the jobs no one wanted with the expectation that he was never going home anyway) is scared out of his wits, wandering around the French countryside alone. He has to move at night and sleep in barns and sheds during the day to hide from people who most definitely want him dead.
On one of these days, he finds a farmhouse of a very jittery couple who agree to let him sleep in the barn, with the conditions that he sleeps in the barn loft and if he's found, they disavow all knowledge that he was there. He agrees, because he's exhausted and will sleep in a hay pile if he has to. My grandpa manages to fit all six foot three inches of himself into a feed trough stored upstairs and tries to get some sleep.
However, right when he's half-snoozing, he hears motors outside and sure enough, here are some very angry officers of mixed Nazi and Vichy make confronting the couple saying someone up the road spotted an American soldier walking this way. They wouldn't know anything about that, would they? No, of course not.
All the while, my grandpa—now trying to figure out how to either escape the barn unseen or how to fight off six? seven? eight? people at once—freezes up and waits for the inevitable. While he does, a HUGE spider crawls next to his head and onto the loft railing. For one second, he thinks about swatting it away, but that would risk him being seen and killed.
So, instead, he lays there and waits to either fight to the death or get executed in a feed trough. And while he lays there, the spider starts making a huge web on the railing. My grandpa's transfixed by this thing. He watches her go around and around, building a solid web before plopping herself off to one side and waiting for breakfast. At the same time, the officers finally go into the barn.
My grandpa can hear them searching around, turning over crates and checking animal pens. Then, he hears one say to check the loft.
And then another say, "Don't bother. Look at the spiderwebs up there. No one's been there in a while."
And they leave.
Because my grandpa didn't swat the spider away and let her build her web, the officers thought no one was there and left him alone. They drive off and my grandpa immediately thanks the farmer couple and hauls ass out of there as soon as he can.
After this, my grandpa refused to kill any spider, and his kids did the same. Because if it wasn't for her, he wouldn't have lived and would never have had kids or grandkids. So we owe her one.
There's the man himself. Go grandpa!!
Every day Road Work Wizard fills in potholes and every night Dark Road Work Wizard crafts new ones
I don't respect christianity but they kinda popped off with cathedrals but ONLY for the purpose of having a cool backdrop for fighting horrible nightmare beasts
What if they have snails crawling down the outside?
Holy shit, this can’t stay in the tags!
Tumblr user perfectlyspreadbutthole is the funniest person alive
Hamlet as a D&D paladin.
some gems of insight from the reblogs (@aspiring-protagonist and @moderndayathena):
xxfanenbyanonymousxx
Weren’t you listening? He’s praying. GOES HARD AS FUCK
Y’know what? Fuck you. *Plays an acoustic guitar version of your leitmotif to show you still have tenderness and care in your heart, and compassion for others*
yeah? well fuck YOU *plays a music box version of your leitmotif to show that this is your home and its comfortable and nostalgic here*
No, piss off! *plays your leitmotif with immense reverb and a toned-down synth sound to show that nostalgia can also be about loss of what never truly was, a reflection of a reflection and a false memory of a false memory*
ok, boomer. *plays your leitmotif using discordant synth bass to display your spiral into villainy after you discover that your memories were a fabricated illusion that were created just to keep you complacent, and how that information is destroying you*
How many times do I have to teach you this lesson, old man? *plays your leitmotif in harmony with my own, intensity of both changing as our climactic battle’s balance shifts back and forth, eventually leaving only one with long, low pauses to musically represent our mutual struggle to overtake the other, yet not being able to exist in full without them.*
oh, you’re going to regret that! *plays your leitmotif on piano in short, soft notes to show that you’re being worn down, and that your energy is at a low, but with a steadily rising bassline that foreshadows your upcoming second form*
public service announcement
I keep getting people asking about bowling on this post so I’m just gonna repost this drawing I made on Twitter
How did her grandmother fill 4 vases?
She was a very large woman. Easily 12 feet tall.
then why the heck is her family not tall too?!?!
Pop-pop was very small so it canceled out.
This was originally part of its own post, but I figured I should add it here so all the Bawling/Balling/Bowling family lore can be in one place, sorry if you’ve seen it before.
So 12-foot-tall Grandma was actually a star basketball player back in the 70s for a very brief period of time– her career as a professional athlete only lasted between October and December of 1972.
The reason for this was because John Basketball, the inventor of the sport, realized that the WNBA had not yet been established, so he asked her to please sit out until the Basketball Elders got a chance to make a space in the sport for women. Grandma thought this was pretty bullshit, but she decided to leave the NBA anyway because nobody could keep up with her balling, and the sport had lost its novelty.
After she settled down in her new-but-less-exciting career as an astronaut, she met Pop-pop on the moon. It turns out that he had been a big fan of her and had recorded all her matches on U-matic, and had fallen in love with the sport.
Anyway things happened, the two fell in love and got married, and Grandma and Pop-pop had a beautiful family together. She became especially close with one of her granddaughters, Ballin’ Jessie, who inherited her propensity for basketball. The two would often dunk hoops with each other, and developed trash-talk as their love language.
Pop-pop also had an interest in the sport, but his height had made it difficult for him to keep up with the others. In fact, he had actually lost about a foot in height as a result of being compressed by Earth’s stronger gravitational pull. Despite this, Pop-pop was never really bothered by this because of his exceptional love for Grandma, who was always more than happy to lend him a helping hand.
We’ve waited a year to reblog this. Happy Bread Anniversary!
Because it’s important to celebrate the little victories in life.
12 days left until the breadiversary, we’d better make sure we have the ingredients on hand!
It’s today!
It’s today!!
I guess the bots were like…hibernating through the winter because I had a really blissful period of no mysterious new followers, and now they’re back in droves.
they gave up tumblr for lent