robin

I hate how the university website is so hard to navigate

x

Once, just once, I'd like to be able to log into the staff portal without having to answer their riddles three, pledge my firstborn, and go through eight factor authentication

cool mutual prev tagged my reblog 9000 healed 60 revived

every time i have to eat or shower or whatever i get so pissed off. like i just fucking did all this shit yesterday

they r both trans(masc) in my mind

i've been experimenting w/ colours & textures

Glenn & Ron, Ron & Glenn

Some doodles of my favorite season 1 duo !!!

I miss them…

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.

here’s an old thought of mine:

back when the kiddads were all working together at d.a.d.d.i.e.s. lark and nick were the ones who made all of the weapons they used. lark workshopped the ideas and made the designs (occasionally assisted by sparrow) and gave them to nicky, and nicky welded them.

i also believe that some of the dummer stuff was probably made back in their late teens (17-20) while the more practical stuff was made closer to their early to mid 20s. until the whole code purple dispute happened.

idk just something fun to think about

switched their shoes

American middle school: okay for gym class today we're going to learn how to square dance like a bunch of cowboys. The cookie monster pajama pants white trash girl and the most suicidal autistic boy will be going first

me: hmm time to google something

google every time: can i PLEASE have your location PLEASE 🥺🥺🥺 I need to know where you live so BAD 😫😫😫😫 Where do you fucking from?????? 😩😩😩😩😩😩

was trying to find something in google images and got side tracked when they said "look at the anime images you have!" and I was like what fucking Anime images do I have. what the hell. and it was just these two

the girls are fighting

can i crack open your ribcage and nestle inside it btw. as friensds

Just saw someone fancast Ryan Reynolds as Ron Stampler and I've never seen a worse take

Putting powdered sugar on the post below

Pov: you're one of those weirdos who likes drawing hands (me)

tumblr should offer health insurance to its long time users

tumblr owes us a pension

At this point Tumblr owes me tenure.

tumblr owes me reparations