flinging poo

What.... Why?

Context : The party just waded through a small army of owlbears to their main target, a Beholder that had been harassing them for weeks.

Amber (fighter) : Is my sword still covered in poo blood from stabbing the owlbear in the ass?

DM : Um… Yes?

Amber : I want to fling whatever is on the blade at the Beholder.

DM : I can understand your motivations for doing so, and I’m slightly scared to ask, but…. Why?

Amber : I want a roll to see if I can give that asshole pink eye before we kill him. Just for the extra annoyance.

In short, I allowed a dexterity check for poo flinging, and natural 1’d a constitution saving throw for the Beholder. It did, in fact, die with pink eye.

Poo golf: fun game for all the family and, as it turns out, a perfect metaphor for Brexit.

anonymous asked:

My mom is sooo against me getting a white lip just because of all the horror stories shes heard about them being defensive. If i were to get a hatchling and worked with it daily, what do you think the likelyhood of it still turning out super defensive would be? I know its possible but my mom thinks that theres no way to soften these snakes up.

Mmm can really depend I guess. Rotem was cbb and was an angel always. Joss started really nervous and has gradually gotten a bit better over time. Less pee/poo flinging. She was never a big biter, just loved hurling waste at me for the first year. My other one is a blood thirsty demon and I’m not sure that one will be growing out of that, but it’s still early to judge. I’d say generally they are nervous, high strung, flighty snakes that in time may get a bit better, or may not depending on individual. Not very helpful I know, but I’ve had a full range of personalities with these so I can’t make good generalizations.

Also I would not recommend working with them daily. They stress much too easily for that. Perhaps weekly instead. Might also be a better snake to tackle once you’ve had at least a few years of experience with snakes that handle easier too (hard to judge exp from an anon, no harm meant).

Every Enjolras.  Ever.

What is the problem here?  Victor Hugo was extremely thorough in his physical description of Enjolras.  So why is it apparently so damned difficult to cast this part for movie adaptations, and why do other visual media find it impossible to draw him according to his description?  What the hell am I missing here?  Is there some widespread conspiracy to portray all revolutionaries as dark-haired and/or ugly dudes?

I needed a laugh the other day, so I started compiling a visual collection of every Enjolras I could find.

In chronological order:

^^^1912 French silent movie.  I’m sure he’s in there somewhere.  Just, please God, don’t let him be the one in plaid pants.  (Oh Jesus, I just looked up at the photo again after writing that sentence, and realized THEY ALL HAVE PLAID PANTS ON………=___=;;)

          EDIT:  I have subsequently seen this version, and in fact he is the guy in the plaid pants.  Sigh.  At least he’s the hot one in the plaid pants…


^^^1925 French silent movie.  Whoa there, Marlene Dietrich, ease off that makeup a little!  Enjolras went a little eye shadow crazy, and Lord knows he needs all that ghostly foundation to distract from the fact that he’s about twenty years too old for this role, but strangely enough, still not the worst Enjolras ever.  At least he gets a Le Cabuc scene…


^^^1934 French movie.  Wild hair Enjolras.  It looks respectable here, but it gets progressively crazier and crazier as the barricades go on.  Speaking of crazy, this Enjolras tends to have a bit of the wild eye too–but, you know, he also thinks blowing up his own barricade is actually a good battle strategy, so…  (Also, he smokes like a chimney–is that even canon?  I don’t think it is…)


^^^1937 Soviet movie, Gavrosh (Гаврош).  Not much I can say about this crazy Soviet propaganda film that hasn’t been said already.  This is one of the strangest roles for an Enjolras ever in a Les Mis adaptation, but that seems suitable for one of the strangest Les Mis adaptations ever.  His hobbies (besides barricading) involve graffiti art and hanging with escaped convicts, and his end comes when he is shot dead by Javert at the barricade.  Sadly, he doesn’t live long enough to see his barricade go on to succeed, and the revolution is won without him.  Oh well!  At least he gets to die in Gavroche’s loving arms, though.  ……Wait, what fanfic was I reading again…?


^^^1943 American comic book.  He doesn’t have much of a role to play here.  And I have to say, this is one of the few times I have had too many candidates for the title of Enjolras.  I’m pretty sure this is him, though there’s a guy with a skeezy goatee who also seems to think he’s Enjolras…I’ll just pretend I didn’t see him…


^^^1948 Italian movie, I Miserabili.  He exists, and he seems to be the leader at the barricade, but he’s also extremely hard to screencap, because the little jerk moves with the speed of lightning.  So this is what you get, a blurry Enjolras getting dragged out to die by blurry soldiers.  A GIF might be more appropriate here.  As far as his Enjolras abilities, I have only one thing to say: rolling barrels down the street is not a good barricade defense strategy, Enjolras.


^^^1952 American movie.  There isn’t an official Enjolras in this one, but this guy sure acts like him, so let’s call him Enjolras.  Because this Marius sure as shit doesn’t deserve to be the badass barricade leader here.


^^^1957 French movie.  Meh, he’s okay, but too old, too weird-looking, too not-blond.  Looks kinda like David Rossi from Criminal Minds, but not as cool.  And his personality didn’t leave too much of an impression either, to be honest.  But one has to laugh at the awkwardness of the Friends’ introductory scene in this version, which is about as literal (and ineffective) an interpretation of their character descriptions in the book as one could imagine…


^^^1964 Italian movie (miniseries?), I Miserabili.  This guy’s a beast, he’s a fucking god.  A straight-up amazing Enjolras, even though, like most Enjolrati on this list, he’s definitely too old for the part.  He does have an unfair advantage over most other Enjolrati, though–he got to do a Le Cabuc scene, and he rocked the hell out of the speech after it.  Talk about an Enjolras moment for the ages, where you can see the crazy and the idealism all expressed in the gleam in those staring, trance-like eyes as he hoarsely whispers his way to the end of that speech–he looks like a fucking crazy biblical prophet foreseeing the apocalypse.  Which, I guess, is kinda what Enjolras is after all. 


^^^1966 Soviet animated short, “Gavrosh” (Гаврош).  I’m actually really fascinated by the animation style in this thing: it’s grotesque and nightmarish and scary as all hell, and everyone looks strung out on meth, but there’s something strange and beautiful and Tim Burton-y to the universe they create.  This is Enjolras, though he doesn’t have a huge part to play here (I mean, the whole thing is just over 15 minutes long or something).  


^^^1971 Spanish (Castilian) telenovela, Los Miserables.  Enjolras is pretty cool in this, not gonna lie.  But I might also be a bit biased and prejudiced by that amazing, amazing, amazing coat he chooses to put on his body:  

!!!!!!  So that, I can say for this Enjolras: he has good fashion sense.  There are many who don’t.  I won’t name names.  Musical!Enjolras. 


^^^1972 French miniseries.  Cold as fucking ice, this one.  Total sociopath and dead behind the eyes.  To understate the matter: definitely not a touchy-feely Enjolras.  Also, he looks a little too Corsican to be flinging poo at Corsica and Napoleon…


^^^1978 American TV movie.  Meh, didn’t leave a strong impression on me.  His funniest moment was probably how he died–thought he was being sneaky, he did.


^^^1979 Japanese animated series, “Jean Valjean Monogatari” (ジャン・バルジャン物語).  Doesn’t have much screen time, but what little he has is pretty well spent.  WTF is that chin, though…?  I think when they heard Hugo say “high forehead” they got confused as to which end of the face that was.


^^^1982 French movie.  Bad teeth.  Funny Saint-Just earring.  Likes to bust Courfeyrac’s balls (“you’re an hour late!”), even when Combeferre got to the meeting, like, just two minutes earlier.


^^^1985 Japanese manga.  I know next to nothing about this manga–pretty much just what you see here.  He has a certain retro shoujo look to him…a little Rose of Versailles-meets-Tezuka going on there.  At least he dies properly.  (Though I’m guessing there wasn’t much of a Grantaire in this version, since he gets to die alone…)  “Republique banzai!”


^^^1985-present, British stage musical.   A Tony-winning ass…oops, I mean role, a Tony-winning role.  Those tight pants couldn’t have hurt.  The musical saw Enjolras’ promotion from a secondary or tertiary character in the novel to one of the most memorable characters in the musical, despite never having his name sung in the libretto even once.  Like Eponine (also a Tony-winning role), he receives much more than his fair share of great music and striking moments, not least of which being the original turntable staging of his death scene on the barricade, a piece of stagecraft so creepily beautiful that it drew a round of applause when I saw the show in Japan.


^^^1992 French animated series.  Easily the worst Les Mis adaptation ever made, and I certainly don’t just mean the design of Enjolras.  Makes for amazing drinking games, though.


^^^1998 American movie.  It’s kinda hard to say there’s an actual Enjolras in this movie at all, except in name only.  His entire role in the plot has been assigned to Marius instead, to much confusion.  This guy is left with a totally thankless job.  He’s just there to be the wet-blanket whiny nursemaid to Marius’ oh-so-awesome-impulsive-revolutionary-awesomeness.  He also has the dubious honor of giving voice to one of the absolute stupidest lines to ever pass the lips of an Enjolras: [discussing Marius’ sex life:] “After tomorrow you can make love to her as a free man!”  Ick, I think I need a shower just from typing that…


^^^1998 Japanese fighting game “Arm Joe.”  Do I really even need to say anything here?  I think Arm Joe generally speaks for itself.  See the entry on musical!Enjolras above, since this is basically him.  (Except dropping barricades on people and stuff, like a fucking 1832 Wizard of Oz tornado.) 


^^^2000 European miniseries.  Marius’ BFF slumber party bro.  I have serious doubts about this Enjolras’ maturity and readiness to take on the task of being an Enjolras.  Watching the Friends rallying for the revolution is like watching a frat party spilling out into a street riot on a Saturday night: hyped-up grinning Enjolras on a table, going, “Yeahhhh, let’s go build a barricade, u guyz!!!  Yeahhhh!”  Also, I feel like I’m watching the musical with this “Marius&Enjolras best friends 4 eva” bullshit–I mean, Courfeyrac exists in this version.  Why?  He sure as shit doesn’t have anything to do.


^^^2007 Japanese animated series, Les Misérables: Shoujo Cosette (レ・ミゼラブル 少女コゼット).  This Enjolras made a pretense of being aloof and cool in his first appearance in this anime, but in the end he turned out to be pretty soft and smiley for an Enjolras, and easygoing, and totally understanding when you tell him you’d rather not go to his barricade and get yourself killed.  He’s willing to listen to other people’s opinions, he goes through moments of doubt at the barricade, and he doesn’t even get mad while fending off Combeferre’s awkward advances (yay for workplace sexual harassment…?).


^^^2009 Japanese manga.  This Enjolras is essentially an offshoot of musical!Enjolras, with all the same totally all-consuming problems.  Of course I mean Marius’ love life, not building a doomed barricade.


^^^2010 French bande dessinée.  Forget Corsica, son, what you need is some conditioner–some serious split ends there.  Don’t you just hate it when men with long hair don’t take care of it?  But seriously, this is the best argument I’ve ever seen against Enjolras having a ponytail–he’s so busy with other shit that this is seriously what his hair would look like if it were long.


^^^2012 American-British movie musical.  This musical!Enjolras was saddled with the usual musical!Enjolras distractions: having to supervise Marius’ antics; being undermined in his own meetings by drunks and dumbasses; having to wear ridiculously ridiculous gaudy clothes; having to admit, in the end, that in fact he was “on his own” and “has no friends.”  Beyond the junk that his stage predecessor had to deal with, he also suffered the indignity of having to fall backwards out of a window and try to make it look cool. 


^^^2014 American manga.  This Enjolras is pretty much what you have come to expect from a manga version by now.  Too much ponytail, of course, and him saying that quote in that speech bubble above makes me want to put my fist through my screen.


^^^2014-2015 Japanese manga.  The jury is still out on this one–he’s still a work in progress.  So far, doing an okay job at Enjolrasing (despite sporting a ponytail, ew), but the real test will be if, in the animal scheme of the manga, he is represented by an eagle at the barricades.  I mean, it’s almost too obvious, right?


^^^2015 British picture book.  I love that speech bubble: I care about Les Misérables, Enjolras!  But, um, he looks a bit like an unkempt Dumas, complete with big ol’ cup of wine sloshing around.  Is that a comparison Enjolras would have wanted to draw…?  I honestly doubt it–it’s like Robespierre being asked if he’d like to be drawn like Danton in a picture book version of his adventures.



Okay, so overall, I will give them this: Enjolras seems to be getting blonder as time goes by.  Also, the Japanese win the prize here, because they are absolutely adamant that he is blond.  (Then again, they think all French people are blond, so…Also, they need to cut his ponytail off, but for whatever “Rose of Versailles” influenced reason, it persists in Japanese versions.)

I think I got pretty much every Enjolras who’s ever existed and who is reasonably available for the getting.  If I’ve forgotten any, or if you know of some I can find somewhere else, do let me know, and I’ll add to the master list! 

Also, if you have any questions about any of these versions of Les Mis or about their Enjolrati, ask away, and I will do my best to answer them!

Monkey Business


The waffle house was filthy, which was comforting in its own way. California seemed like a different country altogether, and I felt utterly out of place as I attempted to read the food encrusted menu, while not actually touching it at the same time. I knew it was just my paranoia, but I felt like I had a sign posted across my back that said “Redneck” and everyone in the restaurant was wondering what a hillbilly from Northern Alabama was doing out here on the left coast.
Tumblr. Yes that’s right, Tumblr was the reason I had ridden my Harley all the way across country to meet a Pal I had made on Tumblr. The really weird part was that I didn’t even know his name, or if “He” was actually a HE. But there I was in that disgusting breakfast booth, trying to decide between the Ebola infused waffles, or the dysentery inducing Denver omelet. I finally landed on a triple order of bacon with toast and coffee and was attempting to clean the eating utensils with my t-shirt, when the waitress suddenly appeared out of nowhere startling the bejesus out of me. She took my order down, and within minutes brought me my food, and then asked in a monotonic manner… “Is your friend going to eat too?”
“How do you know I’m meeting somebody?” I asked.
“He always meets them here,” she replied.
“He?” I mumbled.
“Yes, you know, the Monkey”
“Oh, right, yes well, yes I guess he will be eating something”

Just then the front door slammed open to the waffle house, and in walked an old man who was obviously blind, grey hair, long grey beard, wearing overalls and flip flops, being led by a small monkey. They headed straight for my table and the old man scooted into the seat opposite of me, while the monkey bounced up and onto the table. It locked eyes with me momentarily, reached across the table taking a piece of my bacon, and began to eat while studying me.
A small silence ensued.
Glacially I tore my gaze away from the monkey, which was a curious shade of purple, and spoke to the old man. “So, you’re THE Monkey I presume. It’s nice to finally meet you.” A loud CRACK, from a hand slapping the table top brought me up short, causing everyone in the waffle house to look around. The monkey, with a mouthful of my bacon, mumbled… “Walt is not much on chit chat.”
I sat there with what I can only assume was a very stupid expression on my face, and tried to figure out how this trick was being played. By all appearances the monkey had spoken, but that couldn’t be right. I tried once again, and said to the old man, Walt… “Nice trick brother, how do you do that, are you a Ventriloquist?”
“Ventriloquist.” the monkey said mockingly, as it carefully inspected my plate and opted for another piece of my bacon. “No ventriloquism here, just a talking monkey- A Japanese Macaque if you wanna to get technical, but I just go by Monkey, Purple Monkey if you prefer.”
I had watched the old man’s mouth throughout the entire time that the monkey had been talking, and his lips never twitched once.
A strange unreal sensation slipped slowly down my spine.
I transferred my gaze to the monkey and stared for an eternal minute.
It, He, stared back, shrugging his shoulders and said… “You’re a cool one huh? This is where most people get up and run. You gonna eat that toast? I’m starving”
Pulling my plate over to him he continued… “You’ve seen Planet of the Apes I assume?” I sat there staring in disbelief— immobile.
He snapped his simian fingers inches in front of my face.
“Hey, I didn’t lose you did I?”
“No, no,” I sputtered, “I mean yes, yes I’ve seen it”
“Well,” he said, “it’s kinda like that, except none of the bullshit SciFi fantasy, time traveling assholes fucking up the earth, bunch of mutant humans and all that horseshit, and don’t get me started on Mark Walberg! He couldn’t act his way out of a paper sack, fucking asshat"
The monkey suddenly had an expression of childlike glee. "In fact, if I ever do see that wanna be out on the street, I’m gonna fling my poo at him"

The waitress appeared out of nowhere again making me jump, and setting the monkey off on a giggling spree. I’d never heard a monkey giggle, and it was disturbing. He became serious all of a sudden and stared at me.
“What are we gonna do about you now?” he said cryptically
“What do you mean by that?” I asked apprehensively.
The restaurant suddenly became quiet.
“Well, now that you’ve seen me, I can’t just let you walk around running your mouth. You forget we’ve been PALS for a long time now, and you gotta big mouth sometimes. I’ve read your poetry Cherokee- sickening sweet, runny cheesery bullshit. Oh you’re funny on occasion, that’s the only reason you’re still alive”

It was at that moment that I realized that the other people in the waffle house were all quietly listening in on the conversation. I glanced across the aisle and locked eyes with the somehow familiar face of a Hispanic man wearing a wolf print t-shirt. He gave me a very slight negative head shake, and put his eyes back on the pancakes in front of him. Across from him was a woman with one of those rubber horse heads, but with a horn on it, and she was staring into an uneaten bowl of skittles. I began to slowly look around the restaurant. I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I took in the faces that were trying not to look at me. I had seen some of these people before. A young bearded fellow dressed like Jesus. A mermaid or two eating sushi? At a waffle house? A one-eyed Canadian. Librarians. Lesbians. Lots and lots of Lesbians. A very angry comrade with tattoos up the wazoo. Filipinos. Why were there so many Filipinos? A hipster douchebag on a typewriter typing haiku?
Then it hit me.
I looked across the table at the monkey.
He grinned a wide evil grin.


(co-write purplemonkey & cherokee)

gyzym  asked:

LEVERAGE FIC PROMPT: PARKER, ELIOT, AND HARDISON ON A JOB THAT'S ON A CRUISE SHIP. Who gets seasick? Who convinces half the boat they're actually the captain? Who gorges themselves on the buffets I have heard are expansive but not actually very good? Who keeps bringing up that time all those people got trapped on a cruise ship and started flinging their own feces? Who is concealing their secret deep fear of the ocean? THESE ARE THE IMPORTANT QUESTIONS.

 Okay okay okay this is all VERY IMPORTANT YOU ARE TOTALLY RIGHT

  • nobody gets seasick, thank god, but it takes approximately 2.4 seconds for Parker to go ABSOLUTELY STIR CRAZY.  Cabin fever is real, oh god it’s so real, and god forbid the cruise they’re on is somewhere chilly like Alaska because she is already going to get hella sunburned at some point but getting frostbite/windburn too may also be in the cards if they don’t keep an eye on her.
  • All Eliot has to do is wear a well-pressed white shirt and pull his hair back and people already start mistaking him for the captain.  He can just exude an air of authority when he wants to, and since the con hinges on them taking over control of certain bits of the ships operations, Hardison actually put together a remarkable forgery of the actual cruise line’s officer jackets and Parker steals the actual captain’s hat for him.  After that, it’s all smooth sailing.  He knows enough about being at sea the talk comes easily to him, and he has tons of natural leadership qualities.  He respects everyone who works there.  Except the head chef, who has clearly stopped trying.  No excuse for that.
  • SPEAKING OF THE HEAD CHEF this food is totally catering to the american-on-vacation-junk-food diet, and no it is not good but it is sweet and rich.  THIS MEANS THAT HARDISON IS SO ON BOARD WITH ALL OF IT.  Forget about the meals, you should see the appetizer buffets! If it’s not fried, it has a cream center.  Or possibly it is put on tortilla chips. Eliot keeps warning Hardison what not to eat, so he never actually gets sick, but he sure as hell gives it the old college try.  He wanders past the buffets all the time, with his pockets lined in tin foil so he can fill them with appetizers and deserts.  Also: Parker discovers the bar on the pool deck will make her a really yummy virgin mudslide and she manages to down six of them one day and then not sleep for almost 24 hours.  She is no longer allowed on the pool deck without supervision.
  • Hardison definitely brings up the poo-flinging, especially after they deliberately stall the engines and get everyone stuck out there for almost two days so they can complete the heist.  Hardison is a delicate creature who has to practically be hauled bodily out of the cabin they’ve taken over by Eliot after they’ve been stalled for a day.  Mmm mmm, nuh uh, he knows people are about to go crazy and he is not gonna get caught up in any kind of poo flinging nonsense.  Hell no.
  • Eliot’s not afraid of the ocean, exactly.  He can swim, he can dive, he loves to fish, even deep sea fishing.  He will not be going down in a submarine, though.  He trusts the engineers that built the submarines. He trusts the pilots and the sailors he’d be down there with.  But he has been down deep.  Way down.  He has seen what is down there.  This is not some irrational fear of the unknown.  This is a completely rational fear of the known.

OTHER IMPORTANT THOUGHTS:

  • Parker is excited by the promise of a ‘climbing wall’ until she realizes it is two stories tall at its height. And it’s covered in things that anyone can grab onto.  At regular intervals. At least she can rappel down the sides of the boat when she gets itchy and nosily peek into everyone’s cabin. (Parker no, don’t go down the… damn it.)
  • Most of the crew knows what the Captain looks like.  They also know he’s a smug sonuvabitch who they do not like and cuts corners constantly.  Consequently while they do not rat Eliot out and actually start calling him ‘other Captain’, eventually he becomes ‘good Captain’ to the ‘evil Captain’.  Hardison is delighted to discover ‘evil Captain’ has a goatee.
  • Hardison gets so irritated by the lack of decent data signal he retasks a satellite.  When a couple of bored kids notice him streaming the latest season of Orphan Black in HD they wheedle him into opening up a second network for them (not his network, he’s not an idiot, but he’s got the equipment on him for an entirely different network) and eventually the cabin also becomes a one-stop shop for quasi-legal music-and-media.
  • The (surprisingly decent) illusionist doing the show in the nightclub makes Parker nostalgic and she sends Sophie and Nate an honest to god hand-written postcard and an incredibly tacky snow globe, which gets a place of honor in Nate’s home office, over his objections.
Sick- Winchester Sister

(I couldn’t figure out how to end this, enjoy!) I also got carried away, oops!

_*_*_*_*_*__*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*__*

Being the youngest of the family, you got treated better. You were the baby, your brother’s priority. Sam and Dean would stop at nothing to make sure you were alright. Whether that be a scratch, cut, broken bone, sore muscles from hunts, anything really.

“Baby Winchester! Get out of bed!” Dean called, going quickly to the bacon and pancakes he was making. Groaning, you reluctantly rolled, (yes rolled) out of bed, coughing. You felt like shit, and you never felt like shit very often. Which could only mean one thing: you’re sick. When you were sick, you would hide it from your brothers because they were already protective enough, they didn’t need to get sick too just by taking care of you.

After your long and very hot shower, you got dressed in rather comfortable clothes. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you nearly cringed. The reflection showed a girl, around the age of 14, who had a greenish complexion, her cheeks were bright red, and her nose looked like she had been outside in the cold. She was visibly shaking from a possible fever and everything had made her want to vomit. Yuck.

You threw on your best non-sick Y/N facade, knowing that it would trick your brothers for a short time before they figured out your act.

“Hey, shrimp.” Sam said happily, smiling at you as you walked, rather slowly, into the kitchen. The smell of boiling grease and pancake mix made you gag silently, but you replaced it with a smile.

“Hey Moose Man.” You said back, coughing a little from the hoarseness in your throat. Quickly turning into the fridge, you grabbed the carton of orange juice and a yogurt.

“Um, Y/N. I made bacon and pancakes.” Dean said, pointing to the stacks of food on the table in front of him. Shaking your head, your bangs flopped lazily in your eyes.

“That’s okay, you guys eat that. I’m not in the mood for that today.” You said, grabbing a spoon and joining your brothers at the table. You picked at your yogurt, knowing you weren’t going to eat it. Your eyes darted up when you didn’t hear fork and plate contact, and you blushed when you saw Sam and Dean staring at you.

“You okay, bug? You don’t look so hot.” Sam said, reaching over to touch your forehead. Jerking back, you took a huge spoonful of your yogurt, smiling (somewhat) happily at them.

“I’m fine, stop worrying about me.” You snapped, chugging your orange juice before retreating to the tv room. Your head started to pound and you were freezing. The t shirt and shorts probably weren’t the best idea. You grabbed a loose blanket from the cupboard in the laundry room, wrapping yourself with the soft cotton. You probably looked like a burrito, but you were warm and that’s all that mattered. Dean walked in the room just as you were sitting down, wrapped up in your blanket. He gave you a weird look, knowing something was going on with you. He had a plan.

“Mind if I watch something?” Dean said, looking at you through the corner of his eye while grabbing the remote. You mumbled, shrugging. Good, phase 1 is about to start. He turned the tv on, switching it to the animal planet. Monkeys were swinging from trees, eating bugs off themselves, and flinging poo everywhere. You gagged out loud.

“Can you change the channel please? I don’t wanna watch monkeys through their waste everywhere.” You croaked out, throat becoming more and more sore. Beads of sweat started to run down your face and you quickly wiped them away before Dean could see. Dean grinned.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He said, switching the channel. He had changed it to a gory movie, that bastard. You couldn’t keep it down anymore. You quickly uncooned yourself, running past Sam, who had just got back from a run and smelled like a dirty gym sock, and into the bathroom, where you were sick all over the bathtub. You vomited loudly, not caring if your brothers heard it. Your hair was whipped away from your face, hands running up and down your back. Sam and Dean whispered comforting words to you as you continued to be sick.

You groaned and weakly lifted yourself from the tub. Sam lifted you like a child and carried you into your bedroom. Covering you up, he placed a cold hand on your clammy forehead.

“Yup. Just as I suspected. You have the flu. No leaving this room for at least three days. Dean and I will take care of you.” Sam said sternly, leaving your room, only for Dean to enter.

“I knew you were sick. You turned down pancakes. You almost never turn down my cooking.” Dean said. So what he did with the TV was all a plan. He wanted you to crack so he could be right in his assumption. Asshole.

“I know I’m an asshole, but you have to know that I’m your brother and I don’t want you lying about being sick. Y/N, you’re still a kid, and we are adults and it’s the adults job to take care of the kids.” He explained. You nodded weakly, coughing loudly.

“I know, but you both do so much for me already. I didn’t want to add this to the list too. Plus I hate being sick.” You said. Dean and Sam chuckled, coming to sit on the edge of your bed.

Sam placed a cold cloth on your forehead, in a way to bring your fever down. Smiling at him, you sank further into the blanket, closing your eyes. You heard shuffling and you were being pushed into the middle of your bed. Two large body’s sandwiched you between them, and before you knew it, Dean’s arm was around your shoulders, and your legs were placed comfortably on Sam’s. Not sure how, but you managed to sit up and give each of your brothers light kisses on their cheeks before laying back down and falling into a deep sleep.

The next three days were like hell. You were sick at least twice in one day, you couldn’t keep down anything, tissues were scattered everywhere and your fever was slowly breaking. You were grumpy, hoarse, hot and cold. Your hair was a rats nest on your head, your face was a lighter shade of green and you looked like death. Charlie had come over to sit with you while your brothers had gone out with Cas on a hunt. You wanted nothing more than to be out of bed, but you brothers had ordered you to stay in bed. You hated it more than anything, but they were your brothers and they wanted you to get better fast so you weren’t so whiny.

When they got back, you were starting to feel better, the virus was finally diminishing and you couldn’t be happier. You had kept down a couple of crackers and water! Life couldn’t get any better!

When you were finally at your best, you walked into the library where Sam, Dean, Cas and Charlie were sitting, having a beer and chatting away. You placed small kissed on each of their cheeks.

“Thanks for taking care of me when I was sick. You guys are the best.” You said, accepting the juice box Dean had slid your way. Everyone smiled at you, accepting your thanks.

“It wasn’t a problem. Just next time, tell us when you feel like shit, don’t try to hide it from us. Because A) you can’t hide theming from us, and B) you should know that we will always be here for you, no matter the situation.” Sam said. Smiling, you took a sip from your juice box, joining in the conversation they had before you walked in.

Best family ever. Wouldn’t trade them for the world.

3

I had a couple of request for Udon’s bin cage tour. So here it is!  


1. Bin cage: before adopting him, I knew that I wanted the best for Udon. So I opt to get and make him a bin cage - it’s not the prettiest lookin’, but as long as he’s happy, that’s all it matters to me.  I can’t remember the exact dimensions, but it definitely qualifies under one of the forums I read (Hamster Hideout - highly recommended).

2. Wheel: I apologize for the condition of the wheel - it’s cage cleaning day!  I tried to train the little guy to do his business in a specific place, but he decided to call all the shots and do what he wants and where he wants it. Sides, it helps keep the bin stay a little fresher :P

3. The popsicle house: I had a lot of people ask me about this! This is the second popsicle house I made for Udon.  There were nights when I caught him sitting there with his butt hanging out - it kinda looked like he was doing some life pondering up there hahaha.  As for the glue, I used Crayola’s Project glue.  After numerous of research, I thought it was the safest route since it was non-toxic and children uses it all the time for their crafts.

When I introduced Udon’s first popsicle house, out of curiosity he did lick the dried glue.  He made a funny weird expression on his face, and from then on, Udon learned to not lick it again LOL

P.s. if you’re planning to make one for your hamster, please remember to file down the sharp edges!

4. Radish bowls: TBH I’m not sure how it happened, but every suitable food bowl I pick up from him, was a radish bowl.  The bigger one serves as a fresh veggies plate, but he has a habit of sitting in there and flinging his poos next to the ceramic plate LOL

5. Ceramic plate: used to help trim down his nails.

And that’s it! I hope you enjoyed this post!  Thanks for all the loves guys!  It makes me super duper happy to see that he’s getting so much love around the world. He’s definitely a special little hammy :)

youtube

Elephants can fling shit with the best of them.

instagram

“he got his nappy off and proceeded to fling poo everywhere”

1. The Chimp and the Chump

The only way to end this countdown is with a photo that’s impossible not to laugh at. Cory, what have they done to you? It’s never a good thing when your animal costar actually looks more human than you. 

The pose is demoralizing. The shirt is a mess. The painted eyebrows are tragic. The tally marks on the forehead are bizarre. 

The funniest part of having Cory portray an orangutan is that he needs hair to play the part. Since they had already shaved his body bare, they had to draw on his arms with magic marker. Flinging poo at this photo might be the only reasonable critique.

Just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, the Flixel version of the shoot features the ape scratching its butt:

Thanks for pretending this is “modeling,” Tyra. It’s nonsense like this that makes the show so fun to watch.

150 Funniest Photos of America’s Next Top Model

anonymous asked:

What's the deal with the summer drama everyone keeps mentioning? I only really started getting involved with tarot stuff on tumblr for spreadaday3, and while plagiarism and iffy quality are one thing, if AM's done anything actually abusive I'd like to know. (Especially since I benefitted materially from spreadaday3 - I know saying that narrows down IDing me a lot but I also don't want to seem like I'm stirring up shit on anon for no reason.) It feels like I'm missing a huge chunk of the story.

AM basically took advantage of the fact that @starlight-and-promises was having difficulty mailing out a product she’d presold (and the fundraiser for it hadn’t even reached its goal at the time) to those that had purchased it. He claimed that his boyfriend had bought one (a witchy basket, basically a witchy supply care package) and never received it, but there’s no record that his boyfriend ever purchased since Jess has managed to contact every buyer and none of them are AM’s boyfriend.

This past summer that flared up (again actually, I first saw him bang that drum in January with some vagueposts) and also there were pretty much anon hate messages everywhere. Several tarot anon confession/hate/shade blogs were created and loaded with pro-AM messages or fanning the flames. It was a big mess. And a lot of like, social manipulation drama. For instance anytime Jess would try to ascertain who AM’s boyfriend was so she could, you know, refund him if he had such a problem with the delay, AM would claim she was trying to pry at his info and dig up personal stuff on him. Well it can’t be both ways dude, either you have a boyfriend who actually ordered a product, or you don’t. But people would just… go into a frenzy over things, he’d obfuscate stuff, or he’d do very obvious “I love the community so much <3″ stuff when it was obvious he was flinging poo at certain parts of it.

It was some shit. Maybe someone has a good account fo things but basically that’s the sum of it? Am I missing something?

Oh and then a couple months ago @swampseer discovered that there were a bunch of lookalike/namealike blogs (like swamp-seer) registered as placeholders, and the bloggers it had been done to were the ones who’d called AM out before. Not only were there namealike blogs for their main blogs, but also their stores. So for instance @swampseer can’t have @silentseance, the name of her divination store, because some creeper has registered it for no reason. Once this was publicly pointed out, the copycat blogs all went password-protected. AM’s blog was suspended for a bit at the time but he said it was because tumblr staff was examining his account for the namealike blogs, and that he’d been wrongfully accused. I know that sounds confusing, and it is. Basically weird cryptic or dramatic or hassling shit has been going on in the comm for months and AM is usually in the middle of it, or the people he has a history of harassing tend to be the constant focus of the incidents. Hard to put in a clear narrative, but that’s the sum of it.

(Note: I’m one of Jess’s witchy basket customers for the record.)

Sick- Winchester Sister

(The ending is complete and utter shit. Also got carried away if you couldn’t tell, anywhore, enjoy this lovelies)

———————————————-

Being the youngest of the family, you got treated better. You were the baby, your brother’s priority. Sam and Dean would stop at nothing to make sure you were alright. Whether that be a scratch, cut, broken bone, sore muscles from hunts, anything really.

“Baby Winchester! Get out of bed!” Dean called, going quickly to the bacon and pancakes he was making. Groaning, you reluctantly rolled, (yes rolled) out of bed, coughing. You felt like shit, and you never felt like shit very often. Which could only mean one thing: you’re sick. When you were sick, you would hide it from your brothers because they were already protective enough, they didn’t need to get sick too just by taking care of you.

After your long and very hot shower, you got dressed in rather comfortable clothes. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you nearly cringed. The reflection showed a girl, around the age of 14, who had a greenish complexion, her cheeks were bright red, and her nose looked like she had been outside in the cold. She was visibly shaking from a possible fever and everything had made her want to vomit. Yuck.

You threw on your best non-sick Y/N facade, knowing that it would trick your brothers for a short time before they figured out your act.

“Hey, shrimp.” Sam said happily, smiling at you as you walked, rather slowly, into the kitchen. The smell of boiling grease and pancake mix made you gag silently, but you replaced it with a smile.

“Hey Moose Man.” You said back, coughing a little from the hoarseness in your throat. Quickly turning into the fridge, you grabbed the carton of orange juice and a yogurt.

“Um, Y/N. I made bacon and pancakes.” Dean said, pointing to the stacks of food on the table in front of him. Shaking your head, your bangs flopped lazily in your eyes.

“That’s okay, you guys eat that. I’m not in the mood for that today.” You said, grabbing a spoon and joining your brothers at the table. You picked at your yogurt, knowing you weren’t going to eat it. Your eyes darted up when you didn’t hear fork and plate contact, and you blushed when you saw Sam and Dean staring at you.

“You okay, bug? You don’t look so hot.” Sam said, reaching over to touch your forehead. Jerking back, you took a huge spoonful of your yogurt, smiling (somewhat) happily at them.

“I’m fine, stop worrying about me.” You snapped, chugging your orange juice before retreating to the tv room. Your head started to pound and you were freezing. The t shirt and shorts probably weren’t the best idea. You grabbed a loose blanket from the cupboard in the laundry room, wrapping yourself with the soft cotton. You probably looked like a burrito, but you were warm and that’s all that mattered. Dean walked in the room just as you were sitting down, wrapped up in your blanket. He gave you a weird look, knowing something was going on with you. He had a plan.

“Mind if I watch something?” Dean said, looking at you through the corner of his eye while grabbing the remote. You mumbled, shrugging. Good, phase 1 is about to start. He turned the tv on, switching it to the animal planet. Monkeys were swinging from trees, eating bugs off themselves, and flinging poo everywhere. You gagged out loud.

“Can you change the channel please? I don’t wanna watch monkeys through their waste everywhere.” You croaked out, throat becoming more and more sore. Beads of sweat started to run down your face and you quickly wiped them away before Dean could see. Dean grinned.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He said, switching the channel. He had changed it to a gory movie, that bastard. You couldn’t keep it down anymore. You quickly uncooned yourself, running past Sam, who had just got back from a run and smelled like a dirty gym sock, and into the bathroom, where you were sick all over the bathtub. You vomited loudly, not caring if your brothers heard it. Your hair was whipped away from your face, hands running up and down your back. Sam and Dean whispered comforting words to you as you continued to be sick.

You groaned and weakly lifted yourself from the tub. Sam lifted you like a child and carried you into your bedroom. Covering you up, he placed a cold hand on your clammy forehead.

“Yup. Just as I suspected. You have the flu. No leaving this room for at least three days. Dean and I will take care of you.” Sam said sternly, leaving your room, only for Dean to enter.

“I knew you were sick. You turned down pancakes. You almost never turn down my cooking.” Dean said. So what he did with the TV was all a plan. He wanted you to crack so he could be right in his assumption. Asshole.

“I know I’m an asshole, but you have to know that I’m your brother and I don’t want you lying about being sick. Y/N, you’re still a kid, and we are adults and it’s the adults job to take care of the kids.” He explained. You nodded weakly, coughing loudly.

“I know, but you both do so much for me already. I didn’t want to add this to the list too. Plus I hate being sick.” You said. Dean and Sam chuckled, coming to sit on the edge of your bed.

Sam placed a cold cloth on your forehead, in a way to bring your fever down. Smiling at him, you sank further into the blanket, closing your eyes. You heard shuffling and you were being pushed into the middle of your bed. Two large body’s sandwiched you between them, and before you knew it, Dean’s arm was around your shoulders, and your legs were placed comfortably on Sam’s. Not sure how, but you managed to sit up and give each of your brothers light kisses on their cheeks before laying back down and falling into a deep sleep.

The next three days were like hell. You were sick at least twice in one day, you couldn’t keep down anything, tissues were scattered everywhere and your fever was slowly breaking. You were grumpy, hoarse, hot and cold. Your hair was a rats nest on your head, your face was a lighter shade of green and you looked like death. Charlie had come over to sit with you while your brothers had gone out with Cas on a hunt. You wanted nothing more than to be out of bed, but you brothers had ordered you to stay in bed. You hated it more than anything, but they were your brothers and they wanted you to get better fast so you weren’t so whiny.

When they got back, you were starting to feel better, the virus was finally diminishing and you couldn’t be happier. You had kept down a couple of crackers and water! Life couldn’t get any better!

When you were finally at your best, you walked into the library where Sam, Dean, Cas and Charlie were sitting, having a beer and chatting away. You placed small kissed on each of their cheeks.

“Thanks for taking care of me when I was sick. You guys are the best.” You said, accepting the juice box Dean had slid your way. Everyone smiled at you, accepting your thanks.

“It wasn’t a problem. Just next time, tell us when you feel like shit, don’t try to hide it from us. Because A) you can’t hide theming from us, and B) you should know that we will always be here for you, no matter the situation.” Sam said. Smiling, you took a sip from your juice box, joining in the conversation they had before you walked in.

Best family ever. Wouldn’t trade them for the world.