so when it came time for all us ten year old boys to have a dick measuring contest we’d do it by way of bakugan, obviously, it being 2009ish, and there was always the one spoiled kid who’d pull this shit out of his backpack
strap that onto his wrist like it was a fuckin rolex and bust out his unbeatable deck full of cards that he got shipped in from china off eBay while the rest of us had to fucking check toyz R us every friday after school but they were always out of stock waiting for a new shipment except the shipments came in on saturday night when i had KARATE PRACTICE and my parents wouldnt take me after dinner so i had to wait until sunday morning and by then they were all gone but fuckingNOAH still wanted to show off well fuck you NOAH! I have thousands of people on here who will listen to me trash talk you and where are you?! What are you doing?! You’re fucking nothing! You’re worthless NOAH!
Anyway while i was googling that, i found this picture:
So I was listening to my psychology lecture today (and it turns out that YOUR PUPILS ARE ACTUALLY JUST HOLES IN YOUR EYES), anyway and it turns out that the inside of your eyeball is this fluid, jelly-like stuff but otherwise its pretty hollow (except for some wirey nervy stuff) soooooo
Inuyasha’s Eye (I guess his human one to be exact):
I came up with this. Because the legendary Inu no Taisho is a goddamn science nerd in his free time, he somehow managed to insert a lil pearl in his baby son’s eye (somehow without Izayoi noticing, I imagine) before many of the nerves in there are formed and therefore …
That is why Inuyasha went momentarily blind in one eye when Sesshomaru removed the pearl with his lightning-fast fingers, because his nerves probably grew around the pearl when as he got older.
I dunno, it just interested me and its all speculation really, not facts.
But also while I was googling images for this I found this amazing piece of trash:
and that made my rainy, cold day 10x happier (plus I got a starbucks coffee)
I dunno guys. Maybe I should make an InuyashaScienceBlog
.I was trying to convert a friend to Voltron and talking about Allura I just remember that scene
and I can’t stop myself. Go girl! You are great!
(Ps: the gif is not mine, I’d found it on google and while being a tumblr post when I try to go to the page it says “no post found”. I looked in the tag allura but nothing. If someone know who is the original source feel free to tell me so I can put a link.)
Hello friends and welcome to another
edition of Wacky WWII Hijinks! Get hype, today we’re gonna learn
about rad spy shit
okay, first some
background: the OSS, or Office of Strategic Services, was an American
intelligence agency during WWII that was in charge of clandestine
shit like espionage, propaganda, and counter-intelligence. It was run
by a dude called “Wild Bill” Donovan, because that’s the kind of
name people had back then somehow
the SOE, or Special Operations Executive, was a British organization
in charge of espionage, sabotage, and assisting local resistance
groups in Europe. It didn’t have a director with a weird nickname,
but it was sometimes called the Baker Street Irregulars, which
honestly I think is even better
as you can imagine,
these two organizations came up with a lot of weird shit to help
their agents infiltrate into occupied Europe, so let’s get to it
this one comes to us courtesy of the SOE and were intended for use in
boiler rooms, because the british figured that anyone finding a gross
dead rat while stoking a boiler would probably just chuck the corpse
into the fire and be done with it. Except this time the boiler would
Rat asses, as you can see from the pencil fuse in the image, could
also be rigged for timed explosions instead, for those occasions when
you’re on a tight schedule about raining down petrified rat entrails
in your enemy’s basement
unfortunately (???), the RATS, EXPLOSIVE, never saw actual combat
use, as the first box the SOE dropped into Europe was intercepted by
the Nazis, who probably had a read good “what the FUCK”
moment when they opened it
along similar lines but far less fucking weird were coal
bombs, which were essentially the same thing as the rat bombs but
with hollowed out coal instead. Both the SOE and OSS actually used
Poop bombs (lol)
they then went a bizarre step further and developed mule dung bombs
for use in Africa- “specially sculpted” replicas of mule poop
that were packed with explosives. These weren’t meant to be chucked
into boilers, but rather left around for enemy forces to drive over.
Here is an actual American soldier talking about collecting mule shit
for war purposes, from O'Donnell’s book Operatives, Spies, and
Mule turds were to be found in great abundance…we added a few
samples of local mule dung, and this was carefully packed and sent to
London. We took care to explain that the full, rich horse dung of the
British countryside would not do in Morocco; it was the more watery,
smaller mule type that would pass there without suspicion. Also, it
was important to have it a deep sepia color, sometimes with greenish
shades, the product of straw and grass, not of oats and hay. In due
course of time the British London office made up explosive turds from
these samples, and we used them to good effect later in Tunisia.
You do you, mule-poop-connoisseur-OSS-agent.
this is not an actual picture of a bat bomb, but I found it while
googling for images to use and I love it okay thanks
anyway are you sensing a theme here?
This one was, surprisingly, not the product of OSS or SOE, but of an
American dentist named Lytle S Adams. Everyone needs a hobby I guess.
The idea behind bat bombs was that you take a bunch of bats
(specifically Mexican free-tailed bats), tie some little bombs to
them, and stuff them into a plane. Then the plane flies over Japan
(because Japan has a lot of wooden buildings and therefore is
particularly susceptible to incendiary use), and drops the bats. The
bats fall down to building-level, then start flying around looking
for somewhere to hide because they are having a seriously bad bat
day. In theory, the bats would fly up into the eaves and roofs of the
buildings, at which point the timers on their little bombs would go
off, sending both bats and buildings up in flames.
This idea actually, somehow, made it into the testing phase, but was
never used because honestly what the fuck
guess what it’s another bomb! In this case, a plastic explosive that
looked like flour (hence the name) and could even be baked into
something resembling food products, although just a tad more
poisonous than most food you find outside of school cafeterias. Aunt
Jemima was easy to smuggle through enemy lines due to its innocuous
appearance, and the OSS sent a bunch of it to Chinese resistance
fighters against the Japanese
“wait what?”, I’m sure you’re saying. “finally something that
doesn’t explode and it’s…just a totally normal thing?”
yeah. Here’s the thing: if you sent an agent or resistance fighter
into occupied territory, there was a pretty good chance they were
gonna get frisked at some point, because that was a pretty routine
occurrence in places like occupied France. If said agent/resistance
member were carrying, say, a map showing escape routes or a code
sheet for them to use to send information, and they got searched,
either that paper is gonna be found with their other papers or, if
hidden on their person, make a pretty distinct crinkling noise when
the Gestapo agent gets friendly with that area. Plus, you know, paper
doesn’t do great when wet
the solution to this was printing stuff on silk, like this:
this is Leo Marks, the creator of the silk code keys and one time
pads that SOE used for their agents, holding a one time code pad that has
been printed on silk
these silk documents could be sewn into an agent’s clothing while
still being totally undetectable to a pat-down, or even hidden
somewhere like rolled up in a thin tube and then stuck inside a
shoelace. If you went a step further and printed the document using
invisible ink, agents could carry maps around in plain view as
handkerchiefs or have their codebook printed directly onto their
underwear, because hey why not
I know it sounds boring after all this exploding wildlife, but
silk-printed documents were hugely important to covert
operations during WWII
should not be guns but are, in fact, guns
tbh I’m just gonna let the pictures speak for themselves on this one
apparently there was an umbrella one too but I couldn’t find a picture of that one
you’re dropping people into enemy territory to gather intelligence,
you need some way to communicate with them. This was a problem, since
cell phones hadn’t been invented yet and radios at the time were
like, fucking huge, which
is not great when you’re trying to hide them from the Gestapo
got around this problem by creating the suitcase radio, which is
exactly what it sounds like- a big old radio disguised as a suitcase.
Obviously they weren’t gonna stand up to any examination more
rigorous than “yes that is suitcase shaped”, but it allowed
agents to at least walk around in public with it without attracting
too much attention
keeping with the “problems with radios” theme, we have the OSS’
Joan-Eleanor system. See, normal radio frequencies were monitored by
both sides in the war, which was Not Great. It meant both that radio
transmissions could be intercepted by the enemy (and subsequently
decoded, like Germany’s Enigma messages), and also that you could use
radio direction finders to pinpoint the location of a broadcasting
radio. Every time a covert agent turned on their radio to report
something, they ran the risk of being located and hella murdered
the Joan-Eleanor (or J-E) system, in contrast, was a Very High
Frequency (VHF) system. VHF bands couldn’t be easily monitored,
unlike the frequency bands used by other radios.
Why? I actually have no idea. Listen I just read things and ramble
about them on the internet, I don’t know jack shit about radios
anyway, as a result the system was hard to detect but very short
range, so it worked by giving the agent on the ground a hand-held
transmitter (the Joan), that talked to a bigger transceiver (the
Eleanor) that was in a plane. At prearranged times the plane would
fly over wherever the agent was and they could have an undetectable
it’s a compass! It’s a button! It’s a compass hidden inside a button!
okay this one isn’t technically equipment, but it’s cool and
was used by spies so you can deal with it
it turns out that during the war pretty much everyone listened to the
BBC, even at risk of arrest in occupied territories. The SOE used
this to their advantage by working with the BBC to broadcast
seemingly meaningless words or phrases at certain times, which were
actually pre-arranged coded messages or orders to agents or
if an agent had to win over the resistance’s trust or prove they were
actually spies and not just random dudes, they could ask the person
whose trust they were trying to win to provide them with a personal
word or phrase. Then the agent could radio the SOE, give them the
word/phrase and ask it to be broadcast at a certain time, which the
other person would hear, and bam best friends
is there anything more quintessentially spy? agents were often supplied with a little vial of invisible ink before being dropped into occupied territory, for communications outside radio broadcasts. the ink could be developed (made visible) by means of chemicals or exposure to ultraviolet light (some invisible inks are developed by heat, but the SOE at least avoided those because of the worryingly high risk of accidental exposure. “whoops I sat to close to the fire and now everyone can see I actually drew little devil horns on this poster of Hitler you gave me”)
REAL COOL FACT: Josephine Baker, the famous Black singer, was actually a spy for the French Resistance during the war, and smuggled information during her concert tours of Europe by writing it in invisible ink on her sheet music! wow!
okay I’m gonna stop now because I keep thinking of more shit to add
and if I do this will literally never end (sorry). For further
reading I recommend the O'Donnell book mentioned above and Leo Marks’
Between Silk and Cyanide. Also apparently H. Keith Melton’s
OSS Special Weapons & Equipment is really good, but I
haven’t read it personally (though I totally stole the pictures of
the OSS guns from there, hooray the internet)
[…] Before getting into the van to get here, the maître from the restaurant [La Pampa] tells me something. One night Messi drove his Audi Q7, the car all Barça players get every season, and stopped by the restaurant to have dinner with a girl. They ordered asado de tira and chorizo. For dessert, they had dulce de leche ice-cream. It was a romantic dinner with candle lights. He introduced the girl as his girlfriend.
Leo starts to get tired of me asking so much about his holidays. He touches his leg, actually it’s his phone inside his pocket, and he glances at the trees around the Ciudad Deportiva. His eyes come and go as if he were chasing a ball in a golf field. Then I mention the news from a local newspaper and suddenly the headline gets him back to Earth. It’s about his girlfriend. It was a Mardi Gras day in Sitges, a little town in the south of Barcelona with caribbean vibes, gay tourists and a fantastic film festival. The sun seemed to shine as if it were spring. In the picture, Messi, who lives a few kilometers away from there, was holding hands with a girl who barely reached over his shoulders. The text below the picture said one name: Antonella Roccuzzo. A tiny girl with a flashy last name.
—What about your girlfriend? —I ask him—. Is it true?
—Yeah, we know each other since we were kids —he says as if he were unwrapping a caramel—. She’s the cousin of my best friend.
Messi has friends.
His best friend is Lucas Scaglia.
“The cousin of my best friend”. It sounds like the title of an Italian movie.
One day Scaglia tells me the story by phone.
At the youth academy of Newell’s Old Boys in Rosario, the boys were kamikazes who played for Messi. Lucas Scaglia was the kamikaze number 5. Messi was a very shy but amazing goal-scorer. When they met, they were just starting elementary school. Sometimes Messi stayed the night at Scaglia’s place.
Messi plays down the melodrama.
—But you saw her at his house? —I ask him.
He gets close to me as if he were to tell me how to make more points in the PlayStation. But actually he tells me:
—We played together since we were little. And it ended up in a relationship.
The Messis have their origins in Recanati, the hometown of poet Leopardi. In the landscape of his childhood, inside the big immigrant groups in Rosario, the Italians are by far the largest families. The Flea’s Mother is Celia Cuccittini. His cousins are Biancucchis. His best friend is Scaglia. His girlfriend is Roccuzzo. The Scaglias and the Roccuzzos are cousins. Their parents managed a supermarket and shared a two storey house. Messi visited Scaglia at the house. The future girlfriend lived in the first floor.
—But did she ever reject you?—I ask.
The pictures that manage to capture Messi’s shaken face after a powerful shot are very tricky. Same with the cameras that follow him every moment he controls the ball with his feet. Unlike other footballers who usually howl after scoring a goal, Messi is the only big star capable of inspiring tenderness with his celebrations, like when he gets to take the ball home, tucked under his arm with the same happy expression as a kid with a stuffed animal won a a local fair. On the pitch, the pibe loses all the shame: he cries, he walks around with his shirt outside his shorts, he sticks his tongue out, he pulls a hundred different faces. He could have pulled a bad face at me for daring to ask if his girl had ever rejected him. But Messi answers with a knowing smile. It’s the face of someone willing to play.
—Since we met, we liked each other.
The Flea flashes a one sided smile.
—After that I spent some time without seeing my friend, and without seeing her. But a couple of years later I saw her again and it all started there.
—And what are you gonna do? —I ask Messi— Will you get married?
The breeze moves the trees in the summer at Ciudad Deportiva.
—We are fine like this —Messi answers without even stopping to think.
He immediately explains:
—I haven’t thought about that yet. Right now I don’t feel prepared and I don’t want to. There are still many things on my mind before getting married.
For the first time Messi talks out loud about the future. His words flow as if they were sliding down a sledge. It’s the tone between shy and cautious he uses in front of the cameras when he talks about the upcoming tournaments that he hopes to win, just that, this time, he’s talking about his girlfriend and an uncertain wedding. His private life is an intriguing story, a well known tale for the sports press. But reality interrupts the love story from being told when a hand appears behind his head. It’s a hand with one, two, three raised fingers. It’s the hand of the press chief of the club letting me know that the time is running out. In minutes Messi will get lost again inside his incubator made of concrete and crystal.
So... I found this image in google images by chance, while looking for Pollo Malo/ Pollo Maligno. Ok, it's just a picture of a normal basilisk/cockatrice, but then we have a little weasel (?) with herbs growing in it's fur, attacking it with angriness. What is this thing? I cant found it in any site. Would you, perhaps, know something about it?
What you found was Wenceslas Hollar’s depiction of an encounter between a basilisk and a weasel. The herb the weasel is using is the rue, of which I’ve said in my Basilisk entry,
The only plant immune to the withering gaze of the basilisk is rue,
which is consumed by weasels to protect themselves from their enemies.
Remedies for basilisk envenomation will always contain rue.
But the weasel literally wreathing itself in the stuff is a nice touch. Like fighting vampires with multiple garlands of garlic around your neck? Read more about the basilisk here:
This is pretty much the first ever screenshot of Mira holding something. I thought I’d share it since, as I stated in previous post, Mira is now 2 years old.
My first year of playing Guild Wars 2 was great. Learning the mechanics, exploring the world for the first time, doing the dungeons with friends (and failing horribly)… everything was really exciting. But it was the second year that was the most important to me - the year when I created this blog. It all started as an inside joke with my friends. Whenever we found a pickable object, Mira would pick it up and I’d make another screenshot for the “Mira holding things” photo session.
And it would stay an inside joke if it wasn’t for the @thecharmingcharr ‘s blog. I actually found it randomly while looking for funny GW2-related images on Google. When I found the blog I spent more than a hour browsing through it, giggling and generally having great time. So seeing Tumblr’s Guild Wars 2 community being as active as it is, it was an obvious choice when it came to choosing a place for my silly screenshots few months later.