overfilling

Hi guys :) Here are some of my tips on how to be productive & finish the tasks you set.

Setting Tasks

  • At the start of the week write a detailed list of what you have to do, and add to it throughout the week
    • Everything from homework to printing out lecture slides.
    • Do this in either your planner/bullet journal or make yourself a Weekly Planner.
  • Break everything in that list into small chunks
    • i.e. For homework that has six parts, break that into six chunks that you can tick off when you finish it.
  • Each day, set a number of tasks that seem achievable
    • Knowing how much time each task takes is useful, but setting time limits can be overwhelming and counterproductive.
  • Make sure not to overfill your day
    • The key to being productive is knowing exactly what you need to do, whilst still having the motivation to complete the tasks.

Finishing the Tasks

  • A popular method to help with time management is the Pomodoro technique, typically through the use of apps
    • Pomodoro for iPhones
    • Clearfocus for Androids 
    • Marinaratimer for web browsers
  • If you don’t need to use the internet, turn it off
    • Sometimes it’s nearly impossible to resist checking something online, so if you don’t need it, turn it off.
  • Prepare to concentrate
    • Eat well beforehand, have a water bottle with you.
    • Make sure you have all of the tools you will need, so you don’t have to go searching for the highlighter that matches your sticky notes
  • No motivation to start?
    • Just start! Seriously, just do one of the tasks you have to do, take a break, and then do the next one.
    • Motivation can be fleeting, so discipline is important.

My other masterposts can be found here.

🌛Sensory Bottles for Magic🌜

Sensory bottles are not only a way to help with anxiety and stress but they can be a pretty cool tool in ones magical practice. Think about a spell that you can recharge daily at the shake of a pretty bottle. Here’s how I made mine.

Things you’ll need:
Bottle
Warm water
Food coloring
Glitter/pigment/sparkly stuff
Shaving cream

How Do:
I started by filling the bottle about half way with warm water and adding food coloring. I used pink and blue. Then I added pink, silver and holographic glitter as well as some black eyeshadow pigment that had holographic glitter in it as well (I love holo). I then added shaving cream. This can be tricky so take your time. After everything is mixed well I filled the rest of the bottle with warm water. Let it sit overnight, you should see a layer of white foam collect at the top of your bottle. If you overfill the bottle with some water it’ll push that foam out. Leave a little bit of room for air. Fin. You have yourself a sensory bottle.

Ideas for other bottles:
I’ve seen other sensory bottles that use baby oil that look really cool. I’ve also seen people use glitter glue and clear corn syrup too. Look around online for more ideas on different types of sensory bottles. There are literally sooo many types out there. As for magic, you can do a lot with these. Let it charge under the moon or sun, you can play around with color magic. Stick some tiny water-safe crystals in that bottle, my friend. Paint the bottom of your bottle with chalk board paint and draw sigils to charge your bottle. Shake up your bottle anytime you want to activate/recharge your spell. The possibilities are endless.

As always if you have any questions let me know. 💜

3

Family first.

APH | Mafia Nordics.

Mafia AU HCs:
Denmark is the boss of the Nordics. He makes sure everyone is safe and that business runs smoothly. Even if it means getting his hands bloody.
Anyone who thinks Norway is just the one that runs the money part of the family, would surely be surprised by his other set of … skills.
Sweden, thanks to his size and intimidating posture, is the bodyguard of the boss. However, he is also the one that patches them up with more kindness than you could have ever expected.
Finland, despite his charming nature and sweet personality, is the one that will gun you down from 100 m distance.
Iceland is the family prodigy, the one that’s ‘to be protected’. But even they all know that if it ever came down to it, no one could hold their ground like Iceland.

anonymous asked:

Rose seemed pretty normal talking to John minus the garbled words when she was grimdark. Any reason she didn't just engage strife?

Because John’s her friend?  Going grimdark didn’t change her personality at all it just overfilled her with Horrorterror power. The only reason she was so angry and aggressive was because she just found out Bec Noir killed her Mom and then he killed John right in front of her.

Andrew Minyard knowing how to french braid hair

  • when Andrew was in the foster system most of the houses he was put in were usually overfilled with kids
  • a lot of the time the kids were doing the jobs of the adults which is how 7-year old andrew learns how to braid hair
  • one of his foster sisters is late for school and is crying because her hair is a mess
  • so to calm her down Andrew starts to brush her hair and she asks him in a small voice if he would braid her hair
  • Andrew is willing to do anything to make his foster sister stop crying so he tries to recall how one of the older siblings braided her hair
  • it takes him three tries before it’s acceptable
  • after that his foster sister always came to him to get her hair braided 
  • and he learns from his other foster siblings different braids like a fishtail braid or french braid
  • and when he gets moved to Cass’s house there are a bunch of female foster kids
  • and to help out Cass Andrew offers his hair braiding services
  • this allows him to become really close with the other kids and also protect them from Drake 
  • none of the foxes know about his hair braiding skill because the only person he tolerated before Neil was Renee and her hair was too short to braid
  • but one year Neil decides to grow out his hair which is how everyone finds out about Andrew’s braiding 
  • Neil shows up to practice with side french braids kind of like this
  • and everyone loses their shit but Neil knows that Andrew doesn’t feel comfortable with other’s knowing so he just ignores their questions 
  • but one day Nicky walks in on Andrew braiding Neil’s hair right before they go to bed and he literally has a heart attack but before Andrew can kill him Nicky takes a quick picture as proof
  • he texts it to all the foxes and they can’t believe that The Monster can braid hair

Life seems crappy right now. It could be worse though.

I’m glad I’m not a…
Cow on a dairy farm
Baby chick in a hatchery
Elephant in a circus
Baby calve caged for veal
Pig in a slaughter house
Lion in a zoo
Monkey in a lab
Snake in an exotic pet store
Dog in an overfilled adoption center
Rabbit in a lab
Orca in a tank
Gorilla in a zoo
Or any other animal exploited by humans

Life may seem pretty shitty at times, but I’m glad to be fighting for those who have it worse.

Relaxing Night -leafyIsHere Fanfiction

“Finally I can relax.” I thought to myself. Retail is a hard line of work, especially when you work in a children clothing store. After a full week of work, I was glad to have some relaxing time to myself. I took out my phone and called up my bestfriend, Calvin to come over to hang out. The microwave dinged. I got off my sofa and went to the cantankerous noise alerting me that my hot chocolate had finished warming up. I opened the microwave door and the raged noise that was so unpleasant to my ears immediately silenced. I grabbed the mug out of the microwave and set it on my counter without splattering any milk anywhere. My fingers groped the hot chocolate mix and yanked the corner off. The chocolate package was a bit more stuffed than the other packages were, but i had assumed that this particular package was overfilled.

 My eyes widened to the size of the dog-fucker’s vagina, and i let out a little shriek at what really caused the package to look so stuffed. Out of my hot chocolate mix, crawled a tiny, green, scaly lizard. It looked so small,delicate and vulnerable.  I was never one to scream at the sight of a reptile, but i have to admit, i didn’t appreciate the extra treat in my future hot chocolate.I threw the mix into the sink and washed it down. I watched its miniature Shrek-like like features vanish down the Kitchen Sink( |-/  ayee). With the death of a delicate little animal that a furry would have jacked off to, i lost most of my hope for having a relaxing night.

 All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. I remembered that i invited Calvin to come over earlier. Surely, a friend would restore the hope i had lost. Making my way over to the door, i almost tripped over a  mat with how eager i was to let him in. My fingers wrapped around the doorknob and twisted it like Keemstar twists the truth to make himself the victim. As soon as my eyes made contact with his green-tinted skin, his black hoodie pulled over his eyes, his dead stare looking straight ahead, i knew something had taken over Calvin. It was clear.

“Calvin, whats wrong? You look… different.” i asked to him worriedly.

“Yeah,i just haven’t slept in a while, you know, because of my Insomnia.” He replied to my statement halfheartedly.

 I knew him well enough to know he had a bad case of Insomnia, but i also knew that was not why he was acting like this. Still, as if everything was normal, i carried on.  I invited him inside, and he sat down on my sofa without a word. His blank stare was making me so uncomfortable I had to leave his side for a bit.

“I’m going to make the chicken nuggets,okay?” i told him, trying not to show how worried i was.

 I walked over to the kitchen, glad to be able to take my mind off Calvin for a second to make some chicken cut up into little pieces, dipped in to oil that made then crunch, that were so good for some reason. After stuffing the chicken pieces on a tray and sticking the tray in the oven, i still didn’t feel like going back to Calvin, so i stalled a bit by pouring some Coke for us.

 Just as i unskrewd the cap on a bottle of Coke, a shot of paranoia was flung all threw my body. It felt like a goth mrblackdarkness666 had made a voodoo doll of me,and sent a snake to slither down my body spewing its evil juices all throughout my body. At the rush, the drink escaped from my hands, and lay splattered on the ground.

“Everything alright in there?” Calvin asked in a tone that made it clear he did not care if anything was wrong.

“Yeah, it’s all good don’t worry.” i replied just as unsincerely.

 I could hear him shuffling around, getting up, and walking towards me. Panic (!atthedisco) started to set in. My ears picked up that his stomping feet were not a good thing. I’m not always the best under pressure, but i knew that whatever he was trying to do was not going to have a good outcome for me. The only problem for me was that the couch was not very far from the kitchen, so before I could react™ (all rights reserved to The Fine Bros.) he was walking through the door frame. Only, whatever was standing a few feet away from my vital organs( and my asshole ;) )was definitely not the same thing that had claimed to be sleep deprived earlier.

 It had a long green tail, it was covered in scales, if it was an inch taller it would have broken my ceiling. Even with all these appalling characteristics there was one that stood out to me the most. Parts of its body were smashed and shredded like it had been through a sink. A kitchen sink. My kitchen sink.

 I tried to escape. I really did. It may have not looked like i was if you were in front of me. Believe me, my mind was only focusing on moving one foot in front of the other as fast as they could possibly go. I guess my actual feet never got the message.

I thought he was going to kill me. i thought he was going to cut me in half and eat all my intestines. I thought he was going to make me listen to Sweatshirt until my ears stared bleeding. He didn’t do any do these. He didn’t have the mercy to do any of these. He didn’t have mercy.

 This is my story. This is how i am. This was my fate.

 I wanted a relaxing night, but the inside of a kitchen sink is not very relaxing.

The one that got away

I have a habit of sharing geological instants frozen in time in fossilised tree sap that amount to a traumatic moment of slow death for the critters involved, here for once is the opposite, the bug that escaped some 50 million years ago, sitting pretty alongside the first fossil mushroom to turn up in Baltic amber and some mammalian hair.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What's the baddie style? I think I kinda know what you mean but specifics would be great so i can avoid wearing it!

for the gist, a frothy mixture of iggy azalea and kylie jenner and this is how we do era katy perry (example / example / example) (you’ll know what i mean, in general.) not to use this as a discourse op but.

it’s offensive bc the same styles that make white ig models famous for their edginess are the same styles labeled as ratchet or ghetto trash if black girls and latinas choose to use the style that *they* created in their neighborhoods, years before white girls suddenly decided it looked hip. but ok idk a general combination you’ll see would be like the slicked down stylized fka twigs type babyhairs (which like. started in the first place back in like the 80s-ish? bc like. girls literally tried 2 hide their naturally curly/kinky texture with gels lmao), the unnatural looking overfilled eyebrows, long acrylic nails, long braids, cheap bomber jackets and tight leggings and croptops and sports shoes and door knocker earrings and gold jewelry with the names spelled out on it, i mean that’s a combo that as of maybe 2014 or 2015 has randomly become all the rage? no offense but that’s ours bc it’s like a staple in latinx/black neighborhoods everywhere, and it annoys me that girls who decided to wear that kind of stuff in high school and got insulted for looking like trash now have to scroll thru pinterest and ig and weheart it and see white girls wearing the same stuff they wore now that it’s suddenly a trend bc some models with bronzer decided to do it and they’re getting like thousands of likes and positive comments for their boldness like omg.

like as a pop culture ref u probably remember that comment that was made about zendaya’s dreads making her look like she smells like weed, but if kylie jenner wears cornrows she’s given a news article about how her new hairstyle is the summer’s hottest fashion trend or how kendall jenner is ‘taking bold braids to an epic new level’ (marie claire) like lol! but anyway thanks for asking!

anonymous asked:

hey di! you know how you said to that other anon that everyone gets a quote, like harry's is "born for it loves it"? i was just wondering what niall's is? thanks love

@muffinmanhoran nea, you and this anon are in cahoots. <3 i’m v warm that y’all are interested. many pooch smooch to ya.

alas! to answer the question! i am an utterly predictable and obvious hnz tumbleweed and my dream achievement tag for niallerbee is actually ‘#rockstar idol.’ 

probs also bc i’m a masochistic thimble. bc i love how zayn said it so joking but so serious. bc we all agreed. bc niall loves music and it loves him. bc niall x rock me. bc niall tried hard every day and showed up every day even when he wasn’t given space to sing. bc niall fought for his hands on strings and his heart in lyrics. bc niall wears this small bit of fame like he was born into the ripped jeans and soft shirt. bc niall moves to the beat, and can’t help doing it. bc niall feels the best in front of 50 thousand people. bc niall walked out w a pint and a guitar. bc niall sings to the rafters. bc hllz looked at niall in the spotlight with a pride so bright and a love so warm, it out-shown the stars. bc it all worked out.

anonymous asked:

what about people who are so full that they are just laying there pinned down by their overfilled belly with the hiccups?

what about them? if you want my opinion I’d say its a-okay

I’m not super into stuffing unless the person already has some chub, but idk I can dig it

anonymous asked:

Can we have a little preview?! 🙈

sure!! totally forgot it was thursday! lol

“I cheated on Liam.”

I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, hell, I wasn’t even sure that I really even wanted her to know. But the words burst past my lips like an overfilled balloon; popping from the pressure with no way of stopping it. My mouth hung open as I watched her eyes go wide, her body slowly sitting up a bit straighter in her seat. She stared at me for a moment, the look on her face stoic but it was evident that she was very much searching for the right words to say.

She lightly shook her head. “What?” was all she could muster, the words almost choking out before she gathered herself a bit more to continue, her eyes flicking over my face. “When…w-what? With who?”

The questions all came flooding out at once and I gnawed at the corner of my mouth trying to think of a way to explain myself as I carefully sat myself up. “It was um…it was a few months ago,” I told her, my shaky voice shallow in my throat. I paused for a moment, reaching up to nervously comb my fingers through my dark hair and swallowing hard before forcing myself to continue, “And it lasted a little while.”

My eyes flicked off hers like I was almost ashamed of what I was saying, the reality of hearing myself actually talk about it for the first time in months, sitting heavy in my chest. I clasped my hands together in front of me on the table, my fingers intertwining tightly as I tried to figure out what to say to her next.

“So…so you had an affair?” Elise asked, making my focus jolt back to her. My brows knitted slightly at her choice of words, never really thinking of it like that before. I guess…I guess when you fall in love with someone else, it really isn’t just cheating anymore.

“Yeah, I guess…um, I guess I did.”

In An Aeroplane Over the Country

Our man Jack has eyes drawn in sharpie on each white-painted fingernail on his left hand. The paint is barely a day old and looks like White-Out rather than anything that was ever decorative in nature, in this case designed to match the Steve-Harvey-leaving-church suit he borrowed from Mr. Hollingsworth the evening previous. He was resplendent then and wears day-after rumpled now just as well, if not better. Worse for wear can be better for art, for life. This is more than an idly-spun metaphor.

Jack’s vintage suitcase is utterly destroyed; he’s working with a borrowed bag of mine, bound together with a rubber tie as one might use for a damaged trunk on an old sedan. My own weekender bag tore at the seam, 50 years (or thereabouts) of weekending brought to its knees by being inexplicably overfilled with a toiletry kit, a pair of dress shoes, an 8-cup, brushed metal french press, 12 oz bag coffee beans, travel mug, and the devices which render me able to scribe these missives for you.

Sandra’s basses were, in cases, duct-taped together, but we ran out of tape and so could only go once round, on one end. The TSA agent loading checked bags was less than confident in the long-term adhesive potential of the situation, but was happy to listen to our sky cap, Gemiz, explain that they were taped together, even demonstrating the range of motion of which the basses were capable without splitting apart, which they promptly did.

One of the bags carrying merchandise—the lifeblood of such a tour as this—was 6 pounds over the 50 pound weight limit, another slightly more. Scott’s logic dictated that more or less combining the overages would be cheaper than adding another bag. The woman behind the counter, that grand judge and arbitrator of infractions of airline policy minor, saw the unmistakable twinkle in Hollingsworth’s eye and hit the “No Baggage Detected” button.

Jack’s briefcase was bisected into two loosely related pieces of leather, like Siamese twins somehow transformed into second cousins, twice removed. After a half hour of top-drawer Terricloth coercion and cajoling, all color commentated by our Sandra (“Interesting tactic. Not sure that’s the way I would have done it, but interesting. … Hmm, not sure he’s tried this one before.”), to no avail, Jack DROVE THE VAN to remedy the situation. After blowing miles past the nearby vintage stores, Mr. Cloth found Home Depot and returned with the handsome tool bag you’ll see him sporting for the duration, and which I imagine to be a fashion trend in the making.

—I think it worthy of mention that one of my closest and oldest associates in the music world fronted a street rock band, from Jersey, not far from our NJ triplets, which was put in a position to play with an incredible menagerie of terrible punk bands, in all the wonderful subcategories the genre has to offer (streetpunk, oi, hardcore, folk-punk, pretend-Irish punk, pop punk, I’d-rather-be-doing-Springsteen-covers punk, et al). He was and remains an incredibly friendly and tolerant man (though he did tell me he would get up from the toilet and run through the house with fecal matter trailing down his leg to shut off the Misfits. On this, we disagree. But I digress within my digression.), and would almost always find something positive and even constructive to say about a band, the more specific, the more seemingly derisive (“The last song was great.” “The drummer was really excellent.” “How many shows have you guys done? That was great for your fourth show!” “That one high note was impressive.” “Excellent t-shirt.”). But the absolute worst, the one where you knew you might as well hang it up forever, sell the instruments, donate every piece of merchandise you ever made, and use the music for target practice after having purification rituals in your faith of choice performed over it, was: “That was interesting.“—

Mora’s drum hardware is in full revolt, like a leaking ship whereupon plugging one hole, another one springs open. My alto sax stand was left in Philadelphia, at a concert where the little bastard never even left its case, and everyone makes fun of how small it is anyway, size-shaming me for my silly little horn (Jack: “I was just going to comment that it makes you look bigger.”). I think Poor Old Jeffrey Young’s spirit has been lightly dinged as well, but I cannot be certain, as once one inquires after such things, they are often rendered self-fulfilled prophecies.

It is a day off, the odd interstitial space between the extended business trip which is touring and being an unwitting tourist in an alien city. It is a time to look one another in the eye and hope you don’t flinch at the person reflected back. Today we are not artists, we are seven people hoping our broken items are mended and our aching backs heal up and our gear arrives intact and the new driver is not an utter goofball or an overwhelming bore and the mistakes we made in Monkettes don’t recur and the hotel is less miserable than the reviews suggest and that all resumes as it ought because we’ve wagered a great deal on this enterprise and my chest hurts from airport food and other things, so it damn well better be worth it.

Our departure was delayed due to flashes of lightning and opalescent sky so strange and beautiful in its seemingly careless splotches of secondary and tertiary colors which are beyond my esthetic nomenclature to describe that the airlines deemed it necessary to delay all flights so that the patrons of O'Hare might most fully enjoy them through the picture windows out onto the tarmac. This new policy, to which the TSA refers informally as “sublimated grounding,” renders the experience of air travel just that much more genteel and refined of spirit, though the giant rainbow rendered through the tiny portico, best viewed alongside our singers’ porcelain profiles, was almost—almost—overkill.

We shall indeed see you on the other side. Neutral Milk Hotel: “In An Aeroplane over the Sea”: http://youtu.be/YJwwd4ogPq8

The justice system in the U.S is truly breaking my heart. We are locking away children for petty mistakes instead of teaching them right from wrong. We are punishing the drug addicts instead of finding them help. Our jails and prisons are overfilling at an astounding rate, causing the inmates to be herded like animals. And the people who are supposed to protect us the most are the ones that are killing our brothers and sisters. No one deserves to be scared, based on the color of their skin. And no one deserves to die, based on the color of their skin.

Fight for reform. Fight for humanity. Fight for love.

maxiesatanunofficial  asked:

Now I'm thinking about the filter Clairvoyance manifests when looking through people's eyes. Manny canonically sees the living as dada collages, so that might hold true for anyone he doesn't have a strong impression of, and Eddie would presumably see people mostly as album art and movie poster badasses or stuffed-shirt dweebs... Sam and Max presumably see most folks as either caricatures or actual bullseyes. Not sure about Nelson (maybe just... psychological profiles?) or Guybrush, though.

It took me a bit of thinking, but I think I’ve got something for ‘em!

Nelson: He sees people as a list of details and questions written in his notebook. A quick mental tally of things he knows and things he wants to know, which are sometimes crossed off as he finds out more. As the pages overfill with his thoughts, sometimes they take shape into a rough human-shaped mass made from those papers.

Guybrush: Sees people as whatever objects they’re carrying that he wants, or would find the most useful. People that he hates become hideous caricatures of themselves, and he views his friends as heroic figures.