on this day one year ago someone sewed a fried egg to a tshirt
this is your only day to reblog this for a year
i missed my chance last year so this has been in my queue for 364 days
One day I’ll get this

@warpedchyld / warpedchyld.tumblr.com
on this day one year ago someone sewed a fried egg to a tshirt
this is your only day to reblog this for a year
i missed my chance last year so this has been in my queue for 364 days
One day I’ll get this
This has been in my queue for months.
I missed it last year and I vowed that would NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.
YES
omg i didnt reblog this last year!
req’d by @warpedchyld
i hesitate to ask but what manner of entity is Te Sapling
Sorry for late reply, I just saw this. I LOVE IT.
Te Sapling is my mortal enemy, one I made 17 years ago on my 23rd birthday. I remember it well, that dark day on the 18th of September.
I had been taken out to celebrate by younger sis and our friends. We feasted well on pasta, strawberry lemonade and free dessert. After, we merrily walked along window shopping as we headed back to the cars. But lo, danger loomed, for we failed to take notice of freshly cut squares in the concrete that were filled with fresh dirt and freshly planted saplings.
I, being graced with the bulk of a hippo but all the grace and agility of a newborn three-legged giraffe in a puddle of olive oil, hit the edge of one square and pitched forward. In my desperation I reached out for stability, but instead of a therapist, I grabbed the sapling.
And broke it.
Also messed my knee up and howled in agony while everyone laughed. As you do.
We tried fixing the sapling and we kind of successful. Then once I could move, we hobbled away, leaving the traumatized sapling behind.
We've never been back.
Mostly because that restaurant we went to closed and we can't remember what street we were on. Also fuck Burbank.
But we think the tree is there. Waiting, wist and gnarled, plotting my death.
The universe is an ongoing explosion.
That's where you live.
In an explosion.
Also, we absolutely don't know what living is.
Sometimes atoms arranged in a certain way just get very haunted.
That's us.
When an explosion explodes hard enough, dust wakes up and thinks about itself.
And then writes about it.
we should start calling cultists cultists. "oh he's a scientologist" tom cruise is a cultist. "oh shes a mormon" she's a cultist. not only does it sound cooler but it also makes it clear how fucked up these people are
wonderful addition as always zero
being a hater in moderation is good for you man if you go thru life only feeling positive to neutral emotions about media you’re doing it wrong
Being critical of things is good but this
Is not healthy.
it’s literally so healthy
hating things is so fun and i think everyone should do it
Y’all remember when we burned down a bunch of police stations and made the President of the United States cower in a bunker? That was cool. We should keep that energy going.
if i got to ask a genie for a wish i wouldn’t just ask for money i would specifically ask for all of jeff bezos’ money and then use all his money to do all the things people keep saying jeff bezos could do with his money
pros of this plan:
cons of this plan:
in 2020
it’s going to be 420
for a whole month
I’m here today to talk about heat pits.
Snake eyes do not “see” heat. They do not have infrared “vision.” What SOME of them DO have are heat pits, which allows them to sense heat wavelengths, sometimes from several meters away. To be clear, NOT all snakes can sense heat, because not all snakes have heat pits, and not all heat pits are created equal. What differentiates a true viper from a pit viper is…. you guessed it, heat pits.
In the image above, the black arrow indicates the snake’s nostril, and the red arrow points to its heat pit (one on each side of its face). Other snakes, like most pythons, have multiple pits along their lips:
Both Green Tree Pythons and emerald tree boas have multiple heat pits along their lips, in different locations:
Their ability to sense heat comes from these pits, and the pit organ associated with them (much like their jacobson’s organ is an accessory olfactory organ for additional “smell” particles), NOT their eyes. Their eyes are not involved in their ability to sense heat; they are light-sensing organs like any other eyes.
Heat pits in pythons and boas evolved separately than the heat pits in vipers, and the difference in evolution has given pit vipers a much “better” (or perhaps, a more accurate) organ; they are able to strike accurately using only their pit organ’s input for guidance, where as most other snakes often rely at least partially on eyesight to aid in striking. What’s interesting is that heat pits are not only used for sensing prey. They also help snakes to find warmer or colder locations for thermoregulation, and can aid the snake in sensing when predators approach.
I won’t lie, the way everyone talked about Sir Terry Pratchett made it seem like he was alive, I literally just found out he died 5 years ago. I guess the saying “memories keep people alive” was very true for Terry Pratchet. Huh.
That's rather the point. #GNU Terry Pratchett
GNU?
Bless. GNU is something from the Discworld books that Terry came up with (I’m quoting the Guardian here): Pratchett’s 33rd Discworld novel, Going Postal, tells of the creation of an internet-like system of communication towers called “the clacks”. When John Dearheart, the son of its inventor, is murdered, a piece of code is written called “GNU John Dearheart” to echo his name up and down the lines. “G” means that the message must be passed on, “N” means “not logged”, and “U” means the message should be turned around at the end of a line. . . . The code causes Dearheart’s name to be repeated indefinitely throughout the system, because: “A man is not dead while his name is still spoken.”
https://www.theguardian.com/books/shortcuts/2015/mar/17/terry-pratchetts-name-lives-on-in-the-clacks-with-hidden-web-code While we GNU Terry Pratchett, he goes on infinitely.
“If you promise to stay alive just a little bit longer I promise that we are going to make this world a place worth living in by any means necessary. I ain’t giving up. I swear.”
Spotted in Clackamas, Oregon
I can’t stop thinking about this message, so I spent a while trying to isolate just the writing and make it transparent. I might order a shirt with it
Whoever in Clackamas wrote this message on their bus stop, I love you
Me and the Local Cryptids after we get vaccinated but still need to put the Fear Of God into the local plauge rats.
