Well, I guess I should do this before the situation becomes more dire…
My car needs a lot of work. Specifically, the brakes need replaced. Badly. I have to keep driving it because it’s my only means of transportation, but basically they could go out at any time. I don’t get paid for almost another two weeks, and even then I can’t guarantee I could pay that with my check.
So I need to ask for help. If you can spare anything please send it to cash.me/$NoahKuiken
Please guys, I really need help here, I would prefer not dying in a fiery car crash at 25
I sometimes fear that people might think that fascism arrives in fancy dress worn by grotesques and monsters as played out in endless re-runs of the Nazis. Fascism arrives as your friend. It will restore your honour, make you feel proud, protect your house, give you a job, clean up the neighbourhood, remind you of how great you once were, clear out the venal and the corrupt, remove anything you feel is unlike you…It doesn’t walk in saying, “Our programme means militias, mass imprisonments, transportations, war and persecution.
Hi! I don’t have the time nor the means of transportation for a job (the closest place available for work is a fifteen minute drive and I have no stable source of transportation). I’m also in my school’s marching band; section leader, to be exact.
Every year, we have one major trip. My freshman year we went to Norfolk, VA, then we went to NYC, and this year, we’re going to Disney World.
Usually, our trips are in the range of $600-$700 dollars, and we do fundraisers (sub sales, veggie box sales) to help out. Usually, the amount of subs & boxes I sell (we get $1 towards our personal band account for every sub we sell, and $7 for every veggie box we sell), along with maybe two payments of $100 each, can cover the trip payment.
However, this year, the trip costs $1,000per person. My family has to pay for me, as well as my niece and my mom as a chaperone. We also don’t have much money as a family, due to past issues with people taking money from my parents’ accounts.
So, you can see why I’d like to earn some money, yeah? I’d much rather earn money for my trip so my parents don’t have to worry about me.
So here’s where you come in!
What I’m selling, if it wasn’t obvious by the link, is pairs of hand-painted shoes. They’re canvas shoes that I’ve painted with designs. They’re $20 each and come in sizes US 6-11.
I am open to suggestions and requests for designs.
Even if you can’t buy a pair, please share this!
Even after the band trip, I will continue making and selling shoes, as well as making new designs. If this goes well, hopefully I’ll be able to sell more than just shoes.
TL;DR: Adrix needs money, please reblog and check it out!
ps: there’s an insta and will likely be a tumblr. The insta is @home_painted_shoes_
Dear Narancia, I have burned your crops down, poisoned your watering hole, left all your lights on in your house while you away, and turned your AC all the way down before I ate all your food. I have used your Blort™ Body Pillow as means of transportation, so don't even think about giving chase. Love, Garfield
THATS IT PARDNER
I HEREBY DECLARE THAT GARFIELF IS A MENACE TO ME SOCIETY AND MUST BE CAPTURED
It started when some little dreamer saw a shooting star and thought, “what if it’s something more?”
Us humans, we’ve never been good at leaving things alone and when we learned that maybe those things we saw shooting across the night sky weren’t dying stars, but a means of transportation?
Well, that was no different.
When news got out that there might be life on other planets, that maybe we weren’t as alone in the universe as we thought, we decided communication had to be the next step. What else could we do?
Other living creatures on planets we hadn’t had
the ability to visit?
The temptation was too great.
Of course there was fear, there always was, but that had never stopped us before.
So we went for it.
And when the stars rained down and destroyed our homes, we had the audacity to act surprised.
And that little dreamer, who thought it could be something more but knew that pursual would lead to something much more than we could handle, they watched and mourned and hurt as their dreams got a little bit smaller, a little less hopeful until one day, they weren’t the dreamer anymore, but rather the broken.
Death and destruction would do that to a person.
But one day, the broken met someone, someone who could still call themselves a dreamer.
Someone whose dreams only got bigger and more hopeful, whose optimism grew even as the light diminished and the world crumbled around them.
And this dreamer, they took that broken shell of a person, and they filled them with hope and optimism, and together they asked;
“What if we could save the world?”
They didn’t start with bang.
They started with an idea.
They started when two little dreamers thriving among a sea of destruction and desperation saw the shattered world and thought, “what if we could save it?”
Us humans, we’ve never been known to go out easily.
We fight, and we conquer.
This time was no different.
We may stumble, we may fall, but we do not give in.
It only took one little dreamer to spark an idea, but it took two to start a revolution.
Daisy and Violet Hilton were conjoined twins active in side shows during the 1930s. They endured lifelong abuse at the hands of shady managers, and were eventually abandoned North Carolina after a show. With no income and no means of transportation, they sought work in a grocery store.
They were found dead in 1969, victims of the flu. Daisy had died first. Violet lived for several more days before also dying.
What I find interesting with music—and novels as well—is they start to mean different things to you in different times of your life. You know, songs can really transport you; they’re like smells: they short-circuit everything and they can transport you to a time. But, on the other hand, songs, to me, will offer up new insights over time as well—as I come back to them as a different-aged person with different concerns, different experiences.
I don’t know if I’m gonna get anything new from, ‘She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah,’ I don’t know. I’ll say no, but it’s possible that I could. But there are songs…I wasn’t into Zeppelin when I was a kid, now I’m totally into Zeppelin. So it’s just, things click. At some point, some artists click with you that never clicked before and some artists stop clicking with you.
I saw this and immediately thought this would be up your alley. Have you ever heard of a species of ant called the honeypot ant? This is directly quoted from their wikipedia article, "Honeypot ants are ants which have specialized workers that are gorged with food by workers to the point that their abdomens swell enormously. Other ants then extract nourishment from them. They function as living larders". Can you see why I thought this would make GREAT material?
Hey ho hi yupppppp.
Imagining Dash signing a contract for a smuggling job with an alien species similar to this in his younger, more foolish days…. and of course he doesn’t know what the MEANS of transportation is supposed to be. (Hint: it’s himself.)
So he gets to the planet and they’re like “Yeah so you have to transport this [rare substance] but we do things our own way around here and- Oh wait, you say you AREN’T built to carry massive loads of crazy goop in your digestive tract and have it sucked forcefully back out of you later? Wwwwwwelp, too bad, you’re here now.”
Requested by @donniexgrace: Can you please do an imagine
where the reader finds out she’s pregnant and harry her boyfriend is the father
It was Boxing Day and you were on your way to the Burrow for
New Year’s Eve. You should’ve been excited but really, you were dreading it.
Your sister was the only one who knew why – she had gone out and bought the
test. Deep down you knew it would be fine, Harry wasn’t one to overreact and
he’d make a great father, but that didn’t stop the overwhelming fear.
Normally you would’ve Apparated, you were quite good at it
and had used it as your primary means of transport ever since leaving Hogwarts,
but you’d read that the chance of Splinching a mother from the baby inside her
was very high. You’d sent an owl earlier saying that you’d use Floo powder at Leaky
Cauldron (your Muggle house wasn’t part of the Floo network). With any luck
this wouldn’t raise too much suspicion.
All of your things were packed in the bigger-on-the-inside
bag Hermione had given you for your birthday. As you drove, alone, into London
you drowned your anxiety in scalding tea.
It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine. Had you not been so used to finding the back
street where the side entrance to the pub was you would’ve driven straight past
it because you were so preoccupied.
Once inside you were grateful to accept the Butterbeer
thrust into your hands by Tom, your uncle – any excuse to put off your imminent
arrival. You drank slowly, but all too soon your bottle was empty. Well, you
supposed, it was now or never.
Two minutes later, you appeared in the fireplace of the
Burrows, to the broad smiles of Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys. You forced a
smile onto your own face and allowed yourself to be embraced first by Mrs
Weasley, then by Ron, Hermione and finally, Harry. His arms around you almost made
you forget for a moment why you were worried at all.
It was only later that evening when you and Harry were
finally alone together the Burrow was a busy place. You were sat in Ron’s room
together and Hermione was under strict orders to keep Ron out of the way as
long as possible. You thought Harry probably knew that something serious was
You were hardly surprised when all of a sudden you found
yourself unable to speak. You had to take a few deep breaths before the words
could make it past your lips.
“I’m pregnant Harry.” You looked away for a second, not wanting to see his
reaction, but when you looked back were met only with wide, blinking eyes.
“Wow, ok,” he whispered. You nodded silently, afraid to speak again. You turned
your head to hide a tear, but soon felt familiar fingers close around yours.
This brought a weak smile to your face and, for the first time that day you
were able to look him in the eye. He too smiled, and brought his other hand to
“Hello Bilius,” he said, a grin in his voice. That was
enough to tell you everything was ok.
“We are not calling it Bilius.”
I wanted to draw some overwatch fanart where I swapped the personality and looks of two really different characters, as a sort of design exercise. This is my attempt at doing that with Symmetra and Junkrat.
Satya Vaswani, a.k.a. Dustmouse, was a prestigious engineer from India who came to Australia to study the country’s omninium. When the site was destroyed, she was caught just outside of the blast radius and left with no means of transportation. Forced to survive the trek through the outback, she soon began to experience a change in mental state caused by continued radiation exposure. Though her engineering skills and intelligence remain, she has become unhinged and obsessed with creating destructive devices. Her codename refers to her large goggles and the thin layer of irradiated dust that she is constantly covered in.
Jamison Fawkes, referred to many simply as “the Rat”, is a weapons designer from Australia and the definition of a “suit”. His only concerns are money, his wellbeing, and the pursuit of what he calls “perfect form”. The warheads he designs are made to reflect perfect symmetry and efficiency, destroying a specific target with precision. He looks down on others, especially Satya.