orangutanger

randomnumbers751650  asked:

Imagine a human explaining memes (you know, from cats to We Are Number One remixes, even the silliest memes, like silly dances, to the most sinister ones, like disaster jokes) to an alien. How'd that go?

‘TIS A MOST GLORIOUS SITUATION INDEEDY

Coalition humans are… possibly awkward about it. Depends on the individual. Given their overall social thing about good decorum and the presentation of manners, admitting that their people have a long and proud tradition of giggling at jokes and recurring motifs that inject silliness and surreality is embarrassing. others might actually consider it a point of pride, and proudly tell their alien foes about the ancient tradition of shitposts and memeing fiends producing by their people

Union humans take a… different approach to the matter. For starters, the Union comprises many more species than humans, predominantly sapient gorillas, chimpanzees, orangutangs, and so on; the traditions of memes are shared throughout the hominid kingdom, and their ‘cousins’ birthed by the mighty hand of ‘lets throw science at these beasties until they can also meme at us’

im not suggesting that giving animals the abiliity to meme was the reason for uplift projects here, but that is probably how it happened, everyone should have octopi sending them shitposts

but the case is that the Union’s people are a little more proactive about the whole thing, they embrace it wholeheartedly; a significant chunk of their population lives on migrant fleets with a lifestyle best described as ‘a shitposter’s post history translated into real life shennaigans’

humans in the Union tend to be really dang weird, they don’t just tell memes, they do all kinds of outrageous stuff and their exploits become the foundations of future memes

one day, it is rumored, humanity will settle its differences and unite together with peace and love, but then they’ll elect their monarch by making the candidates box a dinosaur-kangaroo while enacting the most delicious of memes, like insult sword-fighting

10

The orangutans (also spelled orang-utan, orangutang, or orang-utang)

are the two exclusively Asian species of extant great apes. Native to Indonesia and Malaysia, orangutans are currently found in only the rainforests of Borneo and Sumatra. Classified in the genus Pongo, orangutans were considered to be one species. Since 1996, they have been divided into two species: the Bornean orangutan (P. pygmaeus) and the Sumatran orangutan (P. abelii)

Conservation status

The Sumatran and Bornean species are both critically endangered[71][72] according to the IUCN Red List of mammals, and both are listed on Appendix I of CITES.[71][72]

The Bornean orangutan population declined by 60% in the past 60 years and is projected to decline by 82% over 75 years. Its range has become patchy throughout Borneo, being largely extirpated from various parts of the island, including the southeast.[72] The largest remaining population is found in the forest around the Sabangau River, but this environment is at risk.[73]

source-wikipedia

8

Name: Space of the Apes
License: knockoff of 2001 PotA (packaging is a knockoff of the original PotA)
Manufacturer: ?
Year: c2001
Material: plastic
Articulation: 0 points
Height: 3 1/4”
Type: knocloff action figures/pvc figures

Space of the Apes!? The best packaging, featuring old, original PotA illustrations. The ape figures are knockoffs of the Tim Burton designs, with pinch of Worf the Klingon and Gimli the Dwarf thrown in. Expressive sculpts (my favorite is the ginger) and nice accessories. The collection I bought included 3 apes and 2 boring humans (I’ve seen images of another female human with armor—don’t know if more apes exist).

I’ve been playing with the idea of making an electric guitar Pokemon for a while, and I hope this is the breakthrough I’ve searched for. Base stage is a reference to those wind-up cymbal monkey toys, who serves as the audience applauding good performances. When it evolves, it becomes the performer, using its tail as a guitar string, along with some references to rock in its appearance. I realised after naming them that neither chimpanzees or orangutangs have tails, but the people I’ve asked for feedback has been rather forgiving on that point, so I’m keeping ‘em.

Reason behind its fairy typing is that I believe species like Mr Mime and Sylveon are proof that the fairy type doesn’t always need to be cute or have its origin in myths, but can also serve as a reference to idols and entertainment. So to all those who wanted an Electric/Rock typing, sorry :V

Notable moves: Standard electric moves, Dazzling Gleam, Encore, Taunt, Metal Sound, Boomburst

Notable lack of moves: Moonblast

Slow Dance
by Matthew Dickman


More than putting another man on the moon,
more than a New Year’s resolution of yogurt and yoga,
we need the opportunity to dance
with really exquisite strangers. A slow dance
between the couch and dinning room table, at the end
of the party, while the person we love has gone
to bring the car around
because it’s begun to rain and would break their heart
if any part of us got wet. A slow dance
to bring the evening home, to knock it out of the park. Two people
rocking back and forth like a buoy. Nothing extravagant.
A little music. An empty bottle of whiskey.
It’s a little like cheating. Your head resting
on his shoulder, your breath moving up his neck.
Your hands along her spine. Her hips
unfolding like a cotton napkin
and you begin to think about how all the stars in the sky
are dead. The my body
is talking to your body slow dance. The Unchained Melody,
Stairway to Heaven, power-cord slow dance. All my life
I’ve made mistakes. Small
and cruel. I made my plans.
I never arrived. I ate my food. I drank my wine.
The slow dance doesn’t care. It’s all kindness like children
before they turn four. Like being held in the arms
of my brother. The slow dance of siblings.
Two men in the middle of the room. When I dance with him,
one of my great loves, he is absolutely human,
and when he turns to dip me
or I step on his foot because we are both leading,
I know that one of us will die first and the other will suffer.
The slow dance of what’s to come
and the slow dance of insomnia
pouring across the floor like bath water.
When the woman I’m sleeping with
stands naked in the bathroom,
brushing her teeth, the slow dance of ritual is being spit
into the sink. There is no one to save us
because there is no need to be saved.
I’ve hurt you. I’ve loved you. I’ve mowed
the front yard. When the stranger wearing a shear white dress
covered in a million beads
comes toward me like an over-sexed chandelier suddenly come to life,
I take her hand in mine. I spin her out
and bring her in. This is the almond grove
in the dark slow dance.
It is what we should be doing right now. Scrapping
for joy. The haiku and honey. The orange and orangutang slow dance.

Hannibal Rewatch: 1x08

Season 1, Episode 8: “Fromage”
Or, THERE’S NO TURNING BACK NOW, INCLUDING ON MY LOVE FOR THIS FRAJSKLFD SHOW

**Warning: rewatch blogging, written with knowledge of the full series

This is just gonna be a straight live-blog this time, with pauses for longer thoughts on occasion. There are… a lot of occasions. This is a lot of live-blog. SETTLE IN, FRIENDS. It’s “Fromage” time.

GAHH WHAT IS THIS FIELD & STREAM CENTERFOLD, oh my god warn me next time I almost choked on my Vert Chaud. He is literally stretched out in front of a bed with two buttons undone working on a boat motor surrounded by fluffsome dogs, I just…. *sips drink while cocking an eyebrow* Bryan….

Will you actually live in an Andrew Wyeth painting. I adore Wyeth’s beige bleakness so it’s like this is finely designed to rend my heart apart, and I sincerely appreciate it. Also the fact that Will is hallucinating animals in pain is bringing me a lot of pain. It’s almost like the animal’s voices are his own cries, but he has to frame it as others he can help, because god knows he’s not gonna help himself.

Cello Kid: “I should learn to play the easier strings first, then the harder ones.”
Tobias: “No you shouldn’t.”
Me: “Damn straight, that’s why you’re not allowed a saddle when you’re learning to ride.” *sips drink again, Westernly*

Keep reading

Prompt #13 - ‘I want to have a baby’

anon: Claire tells Owen she wants a baby (he never thought she wanted any so he didn’t pry) but he’s thrilled when she tells him (& they’ve been married for a couple of years already). 

So, I bumped this to the front of the line. Because, I can?? 

Their mornings ran through routine, quietly. Depending on agenda, they mostly got ready separately, stepping around the other when they finally met in the kitchen. His and hers breakfast was prepared in tandem, toast warmed, butter spread, milk added to coffee in the right amount, sugar left for preference.

Owen’s commute is longer than hers, he leaves before she does, granting Claire twenty extra minutes. Regardless, she’s up with him, every morning without fail. Following through with routine, only a few steps behind. She brews the coffee while he showers, cuts fruit for yoghurt - they went through a juice kick six months ago. Instead of coffee she would press fresh orange juice. Once the shower was free, on the good majority of days where she didn’t shower with him, they would swap places. Owen heating toast, or frying eggs. On occasion he’d make waffles or pancakes.

He’d abandoned his duties that morning, forgoing making breakfast to chase circles around the house, seeking out odd objects. She knew the place of every single one, his use of them so infrequent Owen lost track. Never Claire, she had the answer for everything. She’d pointed him to the entry closet, formal shoes missing in his mind, in fact tucked away for safe keeping.

Sponsors for the zoo were making a visit that morning, promising money to the most deserving exhibit. It was Owen’s turn to chat up rich business types in fancy suits. He didn’t do it often, but did it enough to be comfortable with the people, if not a little annoyed that he had to fight for money.

He was slightly frantic, a little out of place that morning as he moved from room to room, half dressed, items in his hands. Owen was head deep in the hall closet when Claire spoke from the kitchen bench, peanut butter toast in hand. ‘I want a baby,’ she announced around a mouthful of food.

Owen dropped his shoes, head bumping against the closet’s overhanging shelf. ‘Whoa, whoa - what?’ He looked up, staring at her, half mystified, hand rubbing at the back of his head, trying to soothe the ache. Claire smiled softly, hiding behind her mug of coffee, as she too a long sip, working up the courage.

‘I want to have a baby.’  

‘You do?’ The smile slip across his face slowly, growing larger with each passing second as his green eyes grew wide. He stepped into the kitchen on autopilot, moving to stand beside her without thinking. Claire nodded slowly, shy. ‘Really?’ She nodded again. It had always gone unspoken, Claire’s career went first, before everything else - even Owen fell second rank after her job in most situations. But, he was a grown man, who had leopards and tigers to train, he knew how easily a career could get in the way.

Owen’s eyes caught sight of the time, ticking precariously on Claire’s watch. He was going to be late for his meeting. Chances were the sponsors, along with other investors, were going to throw their money towards the Orangutangs again. ‘You have the worst timing,’ Owen laughed. He could feel his cheeks starting to ache, the smile on his face so strong.

Claire shook her head, swallowing her last mouthful of coffee. ‘No, the timing is perfect. Everything is where it’s supposed to be, our jobs, our marriage. I’m ready for a baby, don’t you think we’re ready?’ He didn’t think it was possible for the smile on his face to grow any larger.

‘Of course we’re ready!’ He pulled her in, hand on her waist. They’d been ready for three years, ready since before they got married. But he knew, without her ever saying it, that Claire - alone - wasn’t ready to step into the tundra that was child rearing. She loved her nephews, but they were teenagers, children who were capable of explaining their problems, and asking for help. Babies though, they were a crying mess of wet diapers, 3am feedings and interrupted sleep. Claire wasn’t prepared for the disruption to her routine. ‘I really have to go. But, Claire, this - a baby. We can do this. God, can you imagine, a little girl with red hair - did I tell you I had curly hair as a kid?’

Claire laughed, pecking him on the cheek. ‘I’ve seen the pictures. I think you forget it still curls if you don’t cut it, just so.’ Her hand wandered up to the fringe of his hair, wrapping a loose curl around her finger.

‘A perfect little girl with red hair and curls - she’s going to hate us.’ Owen smiled, eyes far off in a fantasy. Claire’s hair was already slightly curly, living with it her whole life made her resent her hair. Especially in her teen years. But the image of a small girl, running around the house, chasing Delilah in circles on the grass, red curls bouncing in the sunlight - it was too perfect to deny, too precious to give up on. She also wondered about a little boy, some small reimagining of Owen, chasing his father around, prattling on about animal behaviour.

She kissed him one last time, a gentle touching of their lips before she pushed her hand against his chest. ‘Go to your meeting, we’ll talk about this later.’

Owen nodded, stepping away, ‘maybe we can throw in a few practice rounds?’ He teased, tossing a wink in her direction, smile indestructible on his face.

6

Submitted by beadmaven

Oh my—I’m glad you said we can choose more than one. As I think most of us have, Richard caught my eye first. That impish smile, frantic movements, and funky hair sealed the deal. After the American special I had to keep watching, just to see the hair length.  When he admitted to crying during the North Pole special, I teared up too. (Then yelled at the screen when he lost—he was so close!)

Then there’s James - slow, logical, gifted with his hands, and snazzy dresser (Ha!). How could one not fall for a tall, sexy and smart guy. He know cars, and can fix them too. He makes striped jumpers hot—who else can do that? Not even the guy from “Blue’s Clues” could pull it off.  When he pulled out the gin at the North Pole adventure I knew he was the classy companion.

Speaking of companions, oh how I wish Jeremy could join me for a road trip. Yes he’d probably leave me behind if my car broke down, but would make up for it with a “present” or a really good meal when we reunited. Jeremy and his presents—crazy at the time, but if considered make sense. The Vietnam special, he gave Richard a galleon. Flash forward to Burma, he gives Richard a clock in the shape of —a galleon. James gets a hammer—Jeremy’s favorite tool. For himself—something fun and comforting—Rudyard the bear. Jeremy is easily dismissed as the “buffoon” (or orangutang).  But once he teared up upon leaving Burma, I knew he’s just a softy. He loves cars, and loves a good adventure with his mates.

If I were forced to choose just one, as fun as Richard can be, as stylish as James can be, I have to admit I’d be most comforted having Jeremy along for a ride.

  • *walks up to podium to say graduation speech*
  • me: Congratulations! If you're reading this it means you've overcome the limitations of your tiny manatee brains and opened an email. Now if you're asking yourself "DERR, wait, I'm confused. Is Chanel talking to me? Am I a useless Kappa slut? Simply ask yourself the following question aloud: "IS MY NAME CHANEL #3, CHANEL #5, CHANEL #6, OR ZAYDAY WILLIAMS?" If the answer to that is YES then FELICITATIONS!!! THIS MISSIVE IS FOR YOU!! So, do you all remember when we agreed to meet at the campus pool and kill the Dean and I got you all awesome new phones so that when it came time to meet, the phone would light up a certain color, and when it did, you didn't even have to answer it You just had to come meet at the aforementioned pool? And then do you remember NOT coming to the pool, despite me making it super easy for you by concocting a plan so simple that an orangutang could have figured it out? Like, literally a circus ape of moderate intelligence could have looked down at the phone sticking out of the single pocket in the front of his comical lederhosen and seen it light up and used his short little legs to waddle over to his tiny motorized shriners car and driven to the pool like I asked. Do you remember any aspect of this SUPER SIMPLE PLAN? That's not a rhetorical question. I'm literally asking if your tiny slut brains have the power to process ANY OF MY SUPER-SIMPLE ORANGUTANG LEVEL INSTRUCTIONS! Because what I remember is that NONE OF YOU SHOWED UP! Which meant I had to sit at that stupid pool by myself like a GRADE-A ASSHAT with a bag full of enormous chains to drown the Dean with and then have a super awkward convo with her where I was like "OH DURR I JUST LIKE BRING ENORMOUS CHAINS TO POOLS" and I looked like a total div. I don't entirely know what you whores could have been doing that was more important than helping your chapter president drown a serial killer, but unless that thing you were doing was getting enemas of pure liquid gold at a new local establishment called "LIQUID GOLD COLONICS FOR YOUNG SLUTS", like, if you were doing LITERALLY ANYTHING else, you all should seriously consider doing the human race a favor and getting sterilized. I'm not being facetious, I literally think you should consider undergoing a surgical procedure to remove your ovaries, thereby sparing human race exposure to your DNA. You four trollops ARE THE WORST SPECIMEN OF HUMAN BEINGS EVER BORN and you should all REALLY watch your backs, because if this serial killer targeting Kappa house doesn't chop off your heads, IM GOING TO DO IT!! So I can sell your tiny whore brain pans to science. Sincerely, Chanel Oberlin.

anonymous asked:

you're not even funny anymore you're just a dick

you:  angry

me: thinking about how friendly and wise that orangutang was in the monkey movie and how I’d like to have an intelligent orangutang friend to consult with on ethical matters

ATTENTION ALL USELESS KAPPA SLUTS

Congratulations! If you’re reading this it means you’ve overcome the limitations of your tiny manatee brains and opened an email. Now if you’re asking yourself “DERR, wait, I’m confused. Is Chanel talking to me? Am I a useless Kappa slut? Simply ask yourself the following question aloud: "IS MY NAME CHANEL #3, CHANEL #5, CHANEL #6 or ZAYDAY WILLIAMS?” If the answer to that is YES then FELICITATIONS!!! THIS MISSIVE IS FOR YOU!! So, do you all remember when we agreed to meet at the campus pool and kill the Dean and I got you all awesome new phones so that when it came time to meet, the phone would light up a certain color, and when it did, you didn’t even have to answer it You just had to come meet at the aforementioned pool? And then do you remember NOT coming to the pool, despite me making it super easy for you by concocting a plan so simple that an orangutang could have figured it out? Like, literally a circus ape of moderate intelligence could have looked down at the phone sticking out of the single pocket in the front of his comical lederhosen and seen it light up and used his short little legs to waddle over to his tiny motorized shriners car and driven to the pool like I asked. Do you remember any aspect of this SUPER SIMPLE PLAN? That’s not a rhetorical question. I’m literally asking if your tiny slut brains have the power to process ANY OF MY SUPER-SIMPLE ORANGUTANG LEVEL INSTRUCTIONS! Because what I remember is that NONE OF YOU SHOWED UP! Which meant I had to sit at that stupid pool by myself like a GRADE-A ASSHAT with a bag full of enormous chains to drown Dean Munsch with and then have a super awkward convo with her where I was like “OH DURR I JUST LIKE BRING ENORMOUS CHAINS TO POOLS” and I looked like a total div. I don’t entirely know what you whores could have been doing that was more important than helping your chapter president drown a serial killer, but unless that thing you were doing was getting enemas of pure liquid gold at a new local establishment called “LIQUID GOLD COLONICS FOR YOUNG SLUTS”, like, if you were doing LITERALLY ANYTHING else, you all should seriously consider doing the human race a favor and getting sterilized. I’m not being facetious, I literally think you should consider undergoing a surgical procedure to remove your ovaries, thereby sparing human race exposure to your DNA. You four trollops ARE THE WORST SPECIMEN OF HUMAN BEINGS EVER BORN and you should all REALLY watch your backs, because if this serial killer targeting Kappa house doesn’t chop off your heads, IM GOING TO DO IT!! So I can sell your tiny whore brain pans to science. Sincerely, Chanel Oberlinn

Pokemon Sun and Moon News: Sep 20.

Two new trailer for Pokemon Sun and Moon!


1): Look at new clothe and hair options, for customization of trainer.
2) Look at Pikachu and Eevee Z-Moves! Pikachu got Catastropika and Eevee got Extreme Evoboost!
3): Pokemon Fresh! The new Pokemon Amie, to groom your Pokemon.

Version Exclusive Pokemons!


For Sun:
Lycanroc! Midday form. Evolution of Rockruff. Rock Type with the Abilities Keen Eye/ Sand Rush.
Passimian. Ape Pokemon. Fighting Type. Ability is Receiver.

For Moon:
Lycanroc! Nighttime form. Evolution of Rockruff. Rock Type with the Abilities Keen Eye / Vital Spirit.
Oranguru. Orangutang Pokemon. Normal/Psychic type with Inner Focus/Telepathy Ability. Also have the new move Instruct.