Pointless LOTR Headcanon Of The Day: Frodo & Merry Both Take After Their Mothers, Meaning Frodo Looks

The Outbursts of Everett True was a comic strip that ran in papers from 1905 to 1927, wherein the aforementioned Everett True regularly beat the everliving shit out of rude people as a warning to anyone else who might consider being rude. Men have not only been taking up too much room on public transport for about as long as public transport has existed, but the people around them have been irritated about it for at least a hundred years. The next time someone tries to claim that manspreading is a false phenomenon, please direct them to this strip so that Everett True can correct their misconceptions with an umbrella upside the head.

everyone meet Pickles

Realized I never actually posted Pickles on here once he got his button eyes. Pickles is 100% hand knit on circular needles from a nice mystery fingering-weight merino yarn that was gifted to me. The only sewing on Pickles is the yarn holding his eyes on, everything else was knit into his form. 18 inches long and about 9 tall, Pickles took about 230 hours to create.

He is soft and traps heat well when held. Stuffed with nice high loft filling, he gives a solid and comforting feedback when hugged.

Pickles has NO pattern, but instead was inspired by/adapted from African flower crochet plush patterns using knitting techniques. (if you aren't a thread artist, imagine you heard a song and so you decided to write out sheet music for a completely different instrument)

My comic inspired by “Variations on a Theme” is finished!! I hope you enjoy :) More under the cut!

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Could you maybe reblog this post if you think respecting trans peoples' names and identities is a basic right and not a political opinion?

No pressure. Just seeking some validation of my sentiment. Due to some. people

The funny thing about human beings is having such a clear, yet vague list of instructions of what you were meant to do. Okay, you are alive, and as a living thing you have the urge to perpetuate life. But there's no real pressure to have your own offspring, oh no. Some people have that urge, a pressing urge to personally breed that won't be satisfied any other way, but many can be happy without it.

Humans survive in colonies where each individual support each other, and if you're happy to just babysit your sister's kids every once in a while, you're fulfilling your duty to the clan and helping it survive, because human parents weren't meant to manage 100% alone. Whatever you can teach your niblings, you were meant to teach.

Look at your hands. Especially, look at your fingers. Every single one of them moves individually, to wherever you wish to place them. Nature does not put energy into things that aren't used or needed, you need to have ten digits to... Yes, what? A bear's paw is only one slab of meat and claws, designed to walk on and slap things to death. What do you have all these individual wigglers for?

You could hold a needle, and sew clothing. You could place them in different locations on a musical instrument. You can do that thing with your finger that makes the love of your life orgasm so hard they go blind for a few seconds. You could hold a brush and paint a picture of the land you call home, or write laws of a land that deserves to be called "home".

Your legs and feet, yes, they were made with only one task in mind. They were made for running. You were built to run. Many things in nature were built to run, really, but those things were made to run hard, and fast. You are not like them. You were built to run and never stop. Your run is slow, it is not agile, it is not even graceful, but it is unyielding. Nothing else on this planet is designed like that, and that is why your ancestors - and their loving aunts and uncles - survived through you, by being unstoppable.

If you look up any instruction manual online, on "how to survive an [animal] attack", it will tell you, do not run. You are not fast enough to escape them. You were not built to outrun things. You were built to chase things, and that is your key. Once you have chosen a target, death by you is inevitable.

Nature is no fairy godmother that hands out frivolous gifts. Nature is the hard-budget shift supervisor that gives you the exact tools - the only tools, but nothing but these tools - that you must use to survive. Your yearning for a community to provide for - a found family, if your biological one happened to be shit. Your hands, to make things with, and an abstract mind to create things to make. And an unstoppable determination to do things.

You were given nothing frivolous. Everything in your arsenal are tools that you not only can, but must use. Do your duty as a living thing.

twenty years across the sea

bats photographed by josé gabriel martinez

(x)

simongerman600

Figured I’d share this for anyone struggling in Texas right now, or anyone who needs abortion help.