used to draw things now just tired

mike’s hard past couple of months

mike’s hard past couple of months

mike’s hard past couple of months

nothing more embarassing than when you develop personal beef with a piece of media thats entirely petty. like sorry no i cant talk about that show it. bit me.

this is by far the most fun Ive ever had reading tags on a post that blew up

Until all of you can agree on how to treat people kindly, I'm taking all of the gender and giving it to the trains

i worked hard for my gender it's not fair that shitty people can make it get confiscated

Okay, you may pick one gender from the gender box because you seem kind, but no one else can have one

Steals the box of gender when you aren't looking and eats them all

Hey, those are for the trains!!

I mean, I already ate them. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want them back at this point.

You ate every single gender in the box? All of them? Every last one?

[Video Description: a lynx casually walks down a snow covered bank, onto a log and reaches a frozen river. The lynx takes two steps; the ice cracks loudly. Instantly the lynx stands still. It then looks around and then leaps. The lynx makes a landing on the other side of the river, a faint crack can be heard. It continues on its way unfazed. /End VD.]

That's a guy who's fallen through the ice before, lmao.

IMMACULATE REACTION

"you will look for themes and motifs in media that isn't worth the effort" i will look for themes and motifs in the dirt. on the ground.

Ok now we have a booping feature I propose to tumblr next ides of March we have a stabbing counter and the person with the most stabs gets crowned Caesar and the blog with the most stabbings gets crowned Brutus

Jokes on you @fortheloveofdata my posts don’t break containment

It seems I have fallen victim to hubris

Thematic.

elon musk had a third child with grimes that he kept secret until the release of his biography. he named it techno mechanicus

can you imagine being an adult nepo baby at a company your rich dad invested in and having to walk into the boardroom first day like. hi everyone. my name is techno mechanicus

I can tell this is fake because "techno mechanicus" doesn't start with X

OH SON OF A BITCH

I haven't been reblogging this post because I genuinely assumed you guys were Goncharoving a nepo baby

character in a movie: Oh no, angry dog, please don’t bite me!

the dog: I’m at work! I’m doing so good at being at work! I’m barking because my handler gave the sign ‘bark’! I am going to get such a good grade in being a dog actor, which is completely possible to achieve, and normal to want! I am doing a great job! I am proud of myself for doing such a great job! I love this, because I’d make it physically impossible to get anything done if I wasn’t enjoying it! I’m barking!

I love seeing dogs and wolves in movies because they’re acting so vicious but also their tails are wagging so hard unless the post-processing guys specifically edited out the tails (which is slightly less obvious but also hilarious in a different way once you spot it).

This is why I love the dog in the original casting of The Thing so damn much. I have never seen an acting dog move with such a deliberate, calm intent. It was like every single motion and gesture this animal made was intentional.

Apparently, according to the behind-the-scenes documentation, this dog was just fuckin like that. Almost never, if at all, looked at the camera crews and production teams. Never excitedly wagged his tail on set no matter how much of a good boy he was being. If he did, it was the same… deliberate motions.

His name was Jed, and even though he’s a dog, he deserves an oscar. He was an exceptionally good boy.

Jed also played the role of White Fang in the 90s Disney film version!

I honestly can’t imagine a better portrayal of a stoic, aloof White Fang, who gradually softens, than Jed.  Good boy.

That dog knows his job, and knows he’s damn good at it, and knows he’s probably better at his job than his coworkers.

That dog was delivering straight up Shakespearean performances, and he probably was saddled with human coworker who had to make use of such unprofessional things as second takes.

My condolences, Jed, my condolences.

I hope every transmasc has a good day today!!!!!!!!!

My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

world heritage post

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Closest match: Canis lupus genome assembly, chromosome: 12 Common name: Wolf

Ya know when people told me "when you're finally safe enough that you can leave survival mode and start to let go of and process your c-ptsd/trauma things are probably going to get really, really bad before they slowly start to get better" I thought that was reasonable. I did not understand that by "things are going to get bad" they meant "you're going to find yourself in the worst mental state of your entire life, but dw, that means it's working" and tbh I simply wish someone had been more clear.

Not letting these stay in the tags, damn. Let yourself be Goop.

I want everyone in the notes who is doubting the legitimacy of this to know in the first therapy appointment I had after making this post, when I said I was feeling down because I was realizing how much hard work I still had to do to address my trauma, my therapist immediately said "a lot of people with trauma give up on therapy because once they start addressing whst happened to them their mental state can really tank, and people are naturally going to want to avoid things that make them feel worse, but in reality this is a sign that you're healing, and it will get easier with time" like I didn't even have to bring it up she just said that right off the bat, so yeah I and everyone else on this post aren't lying, when you get out and start being safe enough that you can dig into everything that happened it's going to hurt really bad, but that's part of the process and you shouldn't give up.

It reminds me of that meme a went around a while back; it was a picture of a cabinet with a glass door, and you could see a bunch of plates about to fall inside of it. The door was stopping them, but it was obvious that if you opened the door they would fall and it would be very hard to catch them all.

It's natural to be scared to open the door because you know the plates will break and there will be a huge mess to clean up, but you can't ignore that door forever. If you don't open it and face the problem that cabinet and the plates inside are useless, and they might break all on their own anyway, when you're not ready, so you have to steel yourself, open the door, let the plates you can't catch fall, feel sad and upset about the mess, and then clean it up so you can start using your dishes again.

Healing can feel good at times, but a lot of the time it is painful and scary and you'll want to turn away because ofc you don't want to be sad and scared anymore, but the truth is you will never really stop being scared until you face what happened and try to figure out how to move on from there. In my experience your body eventually won't give you a choice, anyway, so you just gotta lean in and let it hurt, because there's a better life on the other side.

to all my mutuals and friends. im so sorry

I really appreciate how every week I reblog this, a different person interacts it. Tuesday light me up speaks to all of us at different times.

i have a strict "do not answer the door unless you're expecting someone" policy but i also have this second, even stupider policy where i have to go to the door and stand there as silently as possible to gather as much information as i can about who it was that came to the door. honestly because i'm nosy. but naturally i don't want to interface with anyone directly, least of all any type of stranger who would willfully go around knocking on anybody and everybody's door. so imagine my horror when today, someone knocks, and i'm standing there silently to gather information, and they have the gall to start sliding something in between the door and the frame, exactly the same way you would if you were trying to card the door open. fortunately, and to my credit, i realized it was a cardstock brochure for local baptist church before i opened the door to shove them down the stairs. i'm kidding, of course, my "do not open the door" policy extends to include if they try to open it. i'll stand here silently and let them finish and then i have the element of surprise in my favor. like i don't know why you weren't expecting me. i live here. this is a post about using italicization to signify that a role reversal has occurred (monks resume chanting and i take my place back among them while another one steps up to the post editor to make a post)