over-the-limit

it’s a thanksgiving miracle…

i am not proud of my eating yesterday. while i didn’t go complete overboard, it was definitely over my calorie limit. but lo and behold, when i stepped on the scale, it read 106. i appear to have lost 2 lbs. it’s probably just water weight and i keep stepping on the scale, expecting the number to go back up. i don’t believe it, but i guess i actually have something to be thankful for

@bmashina is the only Tumblr I know of that actively goes over the post limit every day!

Man, that’s my ideal posting method, all original posts constantly, but alas, until the satellite internet is here (once again, thank you all for making that possible!) It’s still all reblogs and sporadic answers, basically whenever I get cellphone signal.

Questions

I was tagged both by @gwyncath and @chenria so I really have to have to do this meme now. Thanks for the ask! :D

RULES: Answer q’s and tag 9 people you’d like to know better


Relationship status: In a poly, open relationship so I’m open to having more than one partner. 

Favorite colour: Red and black.

Lipstick or chapstick: Chapstick all the way. My collection of them is off the charts.

Last song you’ve listened to: “Swan Lake” by Dark Moor.

Last movie you’ve seen: Murder on the Orient Express (2017).

Top three shows: Friends, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, and Psych.  

Tagging: @tessa1972, @knifeofdaudwall, @highjustices, @crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer@skybound2, @plushchimera, @gahooliangirl, @noctuaalba@rayeliann, and @jessicamarianadraws. I don’t care if I went over the number limit, the names just came to me. 

2

Okay so when this kid pushes herself waaayy over her physical limit she get’s  injuries because of it. Blood shot eyes, dark/purple circles under her eyes, her skin still has the reddish tint, the veins are still there but they’re faded and mix with dark splotches and bruises 

3

they stopped six feet from the tide and she made him repeat every promise she’d ever dragged out of him: don’t look back, don’t slow down, and don’t trust anyone. be anyone but himself, and never be anyone for too long.

by the time neil understood she was saying goodbye, it was too late.

Are You Going To Be An Overprotective Baby Brother?

Pairing: Steve x Henderson!reader 

Request:  Could you do a Steve Harrington imagine of being Dustin’s older sister and prior to the monsters you ignored Steve even though he always tried to flirt because you’re pretty and smart but you’re also snarky and friends with Nancy and Jonathan and BFFs with Dustin and all his friends love you and post monsters with Dustin and Steve’s bromance you start to be friends with him and Dustin notices he likes you and gives Steve a overprotective baby brother speech? You can decide if he makes a move  

Warnings: fluff, a few swear words

A/N: Omg I love this prompt so much! Also, I have a requested El x reader coming out sometime in the next few days :)

Keep reading

I Don’t Think That People Understand That All EDs are Different.

Somebody could have anorexia, and for them that could mean being SUPER clean with their eating, never touching a crystal of sugar, and restricting as well. For another Anorexic it could be setting a calorie limit and eating whatever the fuck they want, but not going over the calorie limit. Some anorexics get addicted to exercise, some don’t even bother. It really depends on the person, and I’m tired of these bull shit stereotypes 🤷🏼‍♀️

2

Preorder “Into The Unknown” Till Dec. 4th

Now taking preorders for this Over the Garden Wall™ limited edition collectible until December 4th. To get your name on the preorder list, please email me at:

skulptduggery@gmail.com

  • The price is expected to be around $195 plus sales tax and shipping.
  • A minimum of 100 orders will be needed In order to meet this price. If the minimum is not reached, it’s still possible that they will be made, but the price will increase significantly, so please tell everyone you know who may be interested. Re-blogs, retweets, etc. are also much appreciated!
  • Please include: your name, mailing address and email as shown:

Your Name

123 Your St. 

Your Town, CA 45678

you@gmail.com

  • There is no obligation to purchase until the manufacturing order is placed after December 4th, but please only preorder if you intend to buy, thanks.
  • More details to follow.

Thanks to everyone who has expressed their interest so far! Please feel free to email me at skulptduggery@gmail.com with any questions.

This is written for @gallusrostromegalus who is sick and apparently really enjoys chickens, so. Fair warning that you are going to read about my family and chickens. I don’t normally write stories on tumblr, so here’s hoping you enjoy the narrative despite the shoddy storytelling.

To begin, I should start with my mother the Undercover Hippie. I spent a good portion of my childhood thinking my mother was normal because she didn’t dress in tie-dye, but as an adult, I’ve realised there are several things that marked my mother as one of those Boulder Hippies. The types that aren’t really Hippie in the seventies sense, but more in the ‘making questionable health and lifestyle choices because it is the newest Organic Idea going around.’ Notable occasions on this list are the time that she filled the brownies with wheat germ and made them crunchy, the time she brought my east-coast-city-child cousins on a camping trip, and the time she got chickens.

Chickens, in and of themselves, are reasonable things to own. Usually. However, my mother wanted them for eggs and began by taking the childhood fort (which most of us had grown out of) and turning it into a chicken coop. By chicken coop, I mean she stuck some boxes in it and put a fence around it, and patched up the hole in the side from A’s Enthusiastic Ninja Punch, and the hole in the other side from C’s Peephole Experiment, and the last hole from my own childhood Cannonball, and both windows, and then got chickens.

My mother is the sort of learner who just starts a project and then learns as she goes. While she knew they needed food and basic heating, she was otherwise a bit naiive.

For example, it turns out L, my sister, is terrified of chickens. My mother apparently didn’t know this (Mom, I don’t like the idea of chickens) until the chickens (Mom, really, do you think we have to have chickens, because they have beaks, and I got pecked once) actually got to the house (OH MY GOD GET IT AWAY. GET. IT. AWAY. GET IT AWAY GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!!).

Additionally, Mom forgot that chickens can fly short distances and the fort has a loft and thus made the interesting mistake of not wiring off the top areas of the roof.  On Day One she had to knock on the neighbour’s door and ask if she could retrieve her chickens from their yard.

Eventually, after many phone calls, Mom got a handle on chicken care - by which I mean she passed the project onto my chicken-enthusiastic younger brother, who adored them. Not only did Mom have chickens, she had Happy Chickens who were more than pleased to make Many Eggs, and the family chowed down happily.

W, my chicken-enthusiastic younger brother, explained chickens to me this way:

Chickens have a hierarchy, so you have to have a rooster. They’ll start pecking each other and it’s a mess, but roosters kinda keep them calm, though roosters can get aggressive if the hierarchy gets disturbed, so you have to keep the roosters calm. This isn’t really hard, except that if you have to have a rooster, you’ve got a chance of eggs getting fertilised, and we want to eat them, so you have to go out and get the eggs every day, unless you want more chickens, and there’s a limit of how many chickens you can have inside city limits.

All of which seems perfectly reasonable, and was perfectly reasonable, until Mom decided to go on a fortnight’s holiday with my younger brothers, including W.

This left L in charge of the chickens.

Now, my mother is not a reasonable person, so if you’re just now wondering why Mom left the chicken-terrified child in charge of the chickens, it’s because mom is either an idiot or an arse. I’ve still not decided to this day which one she is, so we’ll leave it at that. But regardless of Mom’s motivations, my younger sister is now in charge of the chickens. She can’t get within a few yards before wanting to burst into tears, but also has a Big Heart and doesn’t want the chickens to die.

The chickens need to be fed and watered.

According to W, several things had happened when he got home and took charge of ‘his’ chickens again.

  1. On day one, L had attempted to feed the chickens, and upon entering the coop had been met by the Rooster, who, not recognising her, had immediately gone into Protective Mode. L had fled the coop, dropping the food but leaving the door open. This led to L calling the neighbours in a panic asking for a Group Hunt for the Chickens because she was too terrified to round them up out of the yard. A friendly neighbour put the end of the hose into the water trough so L could just turn it on instead of going in.
  2. L had fed the chickens every day by taking a bucket about the right size full of feed and tossing it into the coop. Not just the feed - the whole bucket. W had to pick up 12 different containers because after L ran out of buckets she just started using old yoghurt containers and whatever else she could find. The chickens apparently didn’t mind being bombed with buckets full of food, just ran out of the way and then attacked the containers until they got their due.
  3. L didn’t fetch the eggs, not even once, which meant that now W was a full eight chicks over the city limit, and had to give six more to some friends in the foothills who weren’t in city limits and could have as many chicks as they wanted. He ended up keeping the eight chicks and bargaining with the neighbours that they could have free eggs, provided that if the city Chicken Inspectors came by, the neighbours would tell the Chicken Inspectors that W was just caring for their chickens while they built a new coop or something.

By the time W, L, A, and my mother left to live in Swaziland (another story altogether), my brother had ten chickens over the limit, all extremely pleased and contented with life, until L went Anywhere Near The Coop, at which point they would all start shrieking like the dickens and running out of the way of any impending Food Bombs, except for the Rooster, who would puff up and start attacking the fence in preparation.

Anyway, the point of this story is Don’t Leave L In Charge Of The Chickens, with side morals of Don’t Buy Pets You’re Not Prepared For and Don’t Fuck With Roosters, and also I hope you feel better.

4

The fact that it’s some of his fans that are going over the limit to call out his friends and co workers for not doing their ‘JOB’ like come on people they are god damn children who are only starting in the acting career

Press on the image to see full resolution

Boi do I remember creating this masterpiece. The only time I am able to create an amazing background. The only time, that I pushed myself over my limit at that time.

I remembered shipping Cyprus and Papyrus that time xD

*Nicole has pulled a car over for speeding*

Nicole: “Wynonna, really? You were 26 over the speed limit.”

Wynonna: *Playfully* “And on what authority did you pull me over?”

Nicole: “Dude I’m a police officer and you know that.”

Wynonna: “Ok, so where is your badge? Show me.”

Nicole: *Rolls eyes* *Pulls out badge and shows Wynonna*

Wynonna: “Oh my. That appears to be a picture of my sister.”

Nicole: “Wait what?! Why is that pasted on the side of my wallet? Hang on the badge is here somewhere.” *searching pockets*

Wynonna: *Humming the Jeopardy theme song*

Nicole: *Muttering* “Dammit when did I put all these pictures of Waverly in my wallet and pockets? I swore I only had a dozen or so in there yesterday…”

Wynonna: “Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have left your uniform laying around at the Homestead yesterday while you were doing whatever with Waverly.” *Holds up Nicole’s badge* “Anyway, I don’t see any proof you’re a police officer, so ta ta!”

*Winks and speeds away*

~~~~~~~

Nicole: *Calling dispatch* “I have a report of speeding on I-78 westbound.”

Dispatch: “Why aren’t you pulling that car over?”

Nicole: *Sighs* “It’s complicated.”