asexual-thot - Tumblr blog

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petition for every time something major and newsworthy happens in the uk, the current actor playing the doctor should be in the background of at least one news broadcast about it, obviously fighting aliens on the side

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sometimes I remember how on the last day of my high school latin class our teacher had us gather around his laptop to show us latin memes on tumblr and my best friend and I just gaped at each other in abject horror. we couldn’t figure out if our teacher was just showing us memes on a Fun Website He Had Found or if he was a tumblr user for real. but he knew how to navigate it. years have passed but it haunts me. he could still be out here

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I show my class a picture of the forest. (We are discussing the past. We are always discussing the past, even as we dissect the present, because we exist of course in the perpetual twilight of a single day.)

"No internet," I tell them. "No places to buy tools. No lighter fluid," I add, after the first group answers. "How do you survive the winter?"

One group turns to spinning wool, though I warn them the winter is coming on fast. Another to slipping mud in the spaces left between the sticks of their shelter, to keep out the bitter wind. A third group plans snares made out of vines. Yet another group tells me they'll build a beaver dam, but to catch fish, and smoke the fish before the winter comes.

"That's called a fish weir," I tell them, impressed. "You might survive the winter yet."

We'll take a rock, the last group says, and go hunting.

"With just the rock?" I query skeptically.

A sharp rock, they say.

"... All right."

And then we'll find a deer and kill it.

"How?" I ask, both eyebrows raised.

By sneaking up and hitting it over the head!

There are two kinds of people, my friend says, when I tell her this story, but she does not specify whether these people are thinkers and doers, or whether they are people who do survive a long winter without lighter fluid and people who don't.

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How do you pronounce the word "learned," as in a very educated scholar?

Ler-ned

Learnd

Something else?

people tend not to read the whole thing so I reworded lol

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@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

@pointless-achievements

This blog was featured in the video ‘Depths Of The Tumblr Gimmick Blog Iceberg’ on the YouTube channel ‘STRANGE ÆONS.’

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ANOTHER TPOH POLL SORRY OKAY

heyyy so we're getting down to designing the stretch goal art, and I have done a TV head RGB for the magnets! but we also want a design for sew on patches aaaand idk which one to do lmao help me

... disregard my typos IT'S THE MORNING. OKAY

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Ths bishop’s twitter post

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One of my students today goes:

“Art class. The worst part of school is art class. I hate art.”

And there I am, standing there, vividly recalling my refusal to draw so much as a line in my own art class eons ago: “Yes, okay. I have two things to tell you, I guess. One is that I absolutely hated art class. So much.”

Several children look sad while a few others cheer. I hold up a hand.

“The other thing is that, as far as we know, the one thing human beings have done for thousands and thousands of years is to make art. They carved animals, they painted stories into caves and on rocks and trees and wherever they stopped to rest. Before they had reading or writing, before they farmed or lived in one place or lived as long as you and I expect, they painted pictures of hunts, they painted pictures that flickered with the firelight, they drew their lives and their dreams into fields and walls.

“So it’s totally valid to hate art class, but it’s also the oldest thing we know.”

“Thousands of years?” one student asks. “Like way, way long ago?”

I nod.

“You know,” the first child says, considering. “That’s actually pretty cool.”

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added wktd prints to my shop due to popular demand, get them here

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Sometimes being a therian is "I'm a lil kitty haha :3" and sometimes it's "My bones are wrong. My muscles wrap around them the wrong way. My eyes can't see in the dark the way they should. My hind legs are too long. My fur is gone. My fangs have been stolen from me. My joints ache when I place them the way they should be. I curse whatever deity or being has placed me in this form." And then it's like "haha I'm a deer UwU."

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you contradict yourself because you contain multitudes. i contradict myself because i am wrong.

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they should invent 7 hours between 10pm and midnight

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if you ask me, the guy who put the sword INTO the stone should be king, not the chucklefuck who got it out.

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Tumblr word of the day:

lasslorn (adjective; not comparable)

From lass +‎ lorn.

(obsolete) Forsaken by one's lass or mistress.

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Sorry, all out of sexy maids. We can do you a sexy window washer, a weirdly photogenic high school janitor, or a muscular garbage truck operator in one of those fancy uniforms they give you after twenty years on the force – take 'em or leave 'em.