recycled building

Hello Neighbour

Characters: Tony x Reader

Summary: Living next door to Tony Stark is, unsurprisingly, a little bit of a nightmare but how much could you take before you are seriously planning to sneak in and murder the inconsiderate ass in his sleep?

Word Count: 2041 words

Prompt “You’re my new neighbor, but I know you’re stealing my wifi to watch porn. Can you not?”

A/N:  This is for @bionic-buckyb and her fabulous challenge.  Thanks for the prompt sweetie. xx

You weren’t usually a passive aggressive note kinda person and as you found yourself scribbling yet another post-it note for the inconsiderate asshole who had moved into the apartment next door you let out a frustrated growl.  It had started innocently enough.  The wonderful, amazing gay couple that you adored moved out into a gorgeous, much larger condo and you had waited the arrival of your new neighbour with a little trepidation but general hope.  You had been at work when they moved in and upon entering the hall you’d had to climb over several boxes just strewn about the place with a frown.  It was okay though, perhaps they were moving in by themselves and with the parking restrictions had to get everything in the building as quickly as possible.  You got how stressful moving was so you let it slide.  When the thumping bass caused your bed to vibrate so much it woke you at 3am you had simply taken a steadying breath and tried to focus on the fact that your new neighbour was still unpacking at this hour and deserved your pity, the music was probably just to keep them awake to finish what they could.

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The New South Wales Northern Rivers region in Australia is home to a multitude of wonderfully designed owner-built homes, made and lived in by people who have chosen to live ‘outside the square’. Pics by Tim Hixson  


Nestled in an old ruin, this new building at the creative campus at Snape Maltings in Suffolk, blends perfectly without trying to be something it isn’t.

In a push to repurpose ruins in Europe, Haworth Thomkins has done an exceptional job in ensuring the history of these ruins are retained.

The oxidised steel shell was prefabricated and craned into position to ensure the ruins weren’t disturbed during construction. The shape of the new shell reflects the Victorian era industrial buildings that form the campus. The interior was then lined in eco-ply with minimal internal walls to create a multi-purpose space for workshops, performances and exhibitions.

The original ruin had minimal structural work undertaken, to ensure loose brickwork was repaired, but essentially remains “untouched”.

This building forms part of the “Re-Cycle: Strategies for Architecture, City and Planet” exhibition at MAXXI in Rome until 29 April 2012.

Establishing My Thoughts on Solarpunk

Without knowing it, I’ve been longing for the Solarpunk genre for years. Maybe since I discovered Permaculture, cob building, Earthships, or transhumanism. I’ve been optimistic about the future of humanity because it’s the only productive way to be.

For so long, futurism has been bleak, and dirty, and dystopian. This return to a modernist aesthetic - of art for art’s sake, and mindful, stylish progress - feels long overdue.

One of my first questions has been: What do we mean by post-scarcity?

Has humanity pulled back from the space exploration game, or are we using nanobots to harvest every asteroid and comet in our star system? Are we building solar-collection shells around other stars to harvest their energy (possibly to the detriment of those star systems), or peacefully colonizing the vacant systems we encounter as gardeners?

Where is the conflict?

The primary sentiment I’m seeing, right after zomfgyrspls! In a Utopian culture, with the majority of (presently)human tasks completed by silently whirring machinery, you would have a job because it’s what society expected. You would educate yourself, because why wouldn’t you?

Maybe there’s a class division between scientists and gardeners. Maybe punishment for crimes is to be exiled to darkness. Maybe saving ourselves at the last minute means that there’s critically low biodiversity, and one blight could collapse everything… Did we stop desertification?

On a similar note, how is this “punk”?

Although optimism is pretty counter-culture, I understand that punk may not be the first word that comes to mind. Maybe we need to be looking at the transition from oil to sun, and how the first radical environmentalists came to win the debate.

Maybe the Solarpunks are the colonists who terraformed Mars, and they’re still at odds with the people of Earth (possibly cut off from Earth’s resources, finding a new way to live would look pretty rough at first).

My head is buzzing with this right now, and I’m stoked to hear what other people have to say!


Some images from The Growlers show I designed the set for last week. 

​Swamp Stomp, repurposed materials, recycled building materials, 2015
Collaboration with Caroline Augusta & The Growlers. 

Sean Newport made the trees and stuff. 

Dennis Wedlick Architect’s project for the Environmental Studies Department at New York’s Vassar College, which utilized a ‘recycled’ 19th-century academic building within which to construct and decorate with sustainably-supplied interiors as well as material furnishings.
Photo: © Jeff Goldberg/Esto


This girl is so inspiring, she has such a can do attitude and her spirit reminds me of one of my closest friends. Seriously recommend watching “we the tiny house people”

Well, THAT was the most successful shopping trip I’ve had in some time. 

I’ve been looking for a red running shirt to wear to the Chinatown 5K, just to be a little more festive than my usual green-and-purple, and I was beginning to think there was some kind of issue with red dye or something, because NOBODY sells red running tanks. I finally managed to find one at Target today and I would have been happy if that was literally all I got done

But I also was looking for underwear because a) I am suffering a shortage thereof and b) I don’t know if you guys know this but if you start running regularly, even if your weight doesn’t change, the shape of your ass does. Or at least mine has. So I needed different undies, and I managed to find two pairs of regular underwear and one pair of MARVEL UNDERWEAR on clearance, so I am now home and wearing Iron Man on my ass. 

I also got scallions and ginger for the sauce for a mock-eel recipe @amand-r sent me, and lemon cookies because lemon cookies are delicious. And I stopped off in the recycling room of my building to see if there was anything new in the Free Stuff Area where people leave stuff they no longer want/need, and scored an awesome wooden bedside table with wicker drawers. I think I’m going to keep my socks in it. (I have so. Many. Socks.)

Comfy nerd underwear and lemon cookies for everyone! 

anonymous asked:

Do you have any resources regarding pre-industrial architecture and where/how certain kinds of structures or materials were used? (I'm trying to get a feel for what kinds of buildings people could/would reasonably build in a marshy/tropical area versus on the plains versus near an ice cap, etc...) Thanks!

Hmm. This was a bit of a tough one.

Hopefully, that will get you started.


Rube Goldberged

So I’m getting dressed to go to this party and I’m struggling to put this stupid pomade in my hair in a sad attempt to look slightly less like Guy Fieri when the light in my bathroom goes out and I still have to take a shit before I leave the house because I don’t want to go to this party with one in the chamber so I go to my kitchen and go in the cabinet above the fridge to get this one weird kind of lightbulb that my bathroom only takes because my apartment sucks and is old so I’m in the kitchen on a chair leaning over the top of my fridge digging around in the back of this dumb cabinet cursing the gods and not paying attention and I knock over a huge 5 gallon plastic jug of white vinegar that falls out of the cabinet and hits the fridge majestically spinning in the air ever so gracefully like a cartoon hippo ballerina on the way down bursting open gushing all over my kitchen floor spraying vinegar everywhere the irony being I originally bought the stupid goddamn vinegar in the fucking first place to use as a homeopathic cleaning agent when my nephew was born in case he ever came over but I’ve never actually ever used it which is fine because he’s never actually ever come over and I curse the gods again but this time I really mean it and go to get down off the chair that I was standing on but fall off of course because I’m in my bare feet and everything is wet and as I’m falling I’m flailing and reach out and happen to knock over my ironing board which I had set up in the kitchen earlier because it’s the only place in my tiny shithole apartment that I can actually fit it to iron things but more importantly because I needed to press my pants for the party tonight where I am hoping there might be some hot girls who might want to talk to me so I wanted to look like I was an adult for once in my stupid life instead of a stalled man-child in his late 30s whose pants didn’t look like they sat in the dryer for 40 extra minutes after they were done drying because he forgot they were in there and instead went to the grocery store to stock up on protein bars because he ate his last one this morning and he knows that his favorite ones always sell out by Sunday night and as I land on my side in a pool of cold wet stink the ironing board falls over onto the counter with a screech like the rusty gates of hell swinging open and I look on in horror as it knocks a bright eyed innocent platoon of empty glass iced tea bottles that I had been saving to recycle (because our apartment building finally got a recycling plan going but I haven’t had a chance to get a separate container to sort them out yet so in the meantime I’ve been stacking them all up at the end of the counter like some sort of 3rd grade art project) onto the floor where they smash like all the hopes and dreams I once had of tonight going well shooting nasty invisible shards of glass everywhere and as I’m lying on the filthy floor of my destroyed kitchen in my vinegar soaked underwear surrounded by a sparkling moat of deadly broken glass looking like Guy Fieri’s younger brother I think to myself, “next time I’ll just shit in the dark.”


oh god he’s doing Nasty Nurse’s Office OCs again

Dr. Balmer isn’t the only one who does business with inert biovessels. One of his chief competetors is Urnie and Burnie’s Biovessel Disposal and Reclamation, second most popular of The Morgue’s many outlets, and even the first in some perception ranges

Urnie handles the public relations portion of the company, acting as it’s face and chief salesobject. He’s a fast talker and been known to take extended business trips all over the perception ranges, persuading clients of the myriad potential uses for recycled biomatter- as a building materiel, a tasteful office decoration, a zesty garnish for any dish, etc.

Burnie is the company’s workhorse, to the point of being a bit of a workaholic. Never leaving his chamber in The Mourge, incinerating the steady stream of clients who arrive/wander in for service. His actual concept core is a charred skeleton inside of his metal shell, and he thoroughly interviews each and every client as they are slowly immolated to ensure a quality, satisfactory final experience.