gravityeyelids | Aug. 6th, 2018

Aug. 6th, 2018

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prettyaveragewhiteshark:

thegirlnamedcove:

kristinezhenie:

Make It Gay Marvel

The last gif is whatever the opposite of gay panic is.

Gay Exhiliration™️
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worm:

mapsontheweb:

Half of Australia lives here.

this is so funny because the blue areas aren’t really distinct so it just looks like somebody has posted a picture of all of australia with the caption “half of australia lives here”
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oncesingingalways:

Quality. Content.
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theultravioletcatastrophe:

TIME

TO

GET

SPOOKY
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simonalkenmayer:

liukka:

xonmybullshitx:

galactichippie91:

shadowraiku:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

autumngracy:

Who wants to guess how many bags of peaches are in my dad’s freezer?

The answer is:

Too fucking many

This is gonna make … a lot of jam …….

So, I managed to fit all but one big bowl of peaches into the two stock pots …

An hour and a half later, here they are simmering away …

How long is it gonna take to reduce them to jam, you ask?? Fuck if I know at this size lmao

In case you were wondering, it is, in fact, longer than 5 hours, as I am still stirring this jam over the oven :) :) :)

Oh and also there was another large bowl of peaches in the other fridge that I did not see until later, so I did not in fact fit ALL the peaches into the stock pots

On a brighter note, the whole house smells like a Victorian Christmas dinner

Hello again friends, it is currently REAL JAMMING TIME and I have been in stirring hell for seven hours

Went through two whole containers of pectin and a bunch of cornstarch already and things are looking just PEACHY

So, uh, the first stock pot alone yielded 272 ounces, so I … may have accidentally made about 68 8oz jars of jam …… and I only had 36 jars …

Guess I’m going back to the store tomorrow … and going to have to join the local farmers market to sell them …

Anyway, TEN CONTINUOUS HOURS OF WORK LATER, here I am at around 3am sealing my first batch of jars … (entire other stock pot of jam lurks ominously in the background)

God, it’s like when you overestimate how much pasta you’re gonna end up with, only 300% worse

So I woke up today after sleeping like a log to fibd my dad had already gone back to the store (which is like 30 min away) and gotten me more jars because he saw that I needed them

As you can see one of those pachages is the wrong size jar (4oz) so we’ll see if I can fit all the jam into these suckers (plus the two 8oz ones I had leftover)

My dad also put all the jars of jam in the fridge, although since they were all properly sealed (aw yeah) was totally unnecessary lol

He said he accidentally dropped one on the way to the fridge but I checked and it amazingly A) didn’t break, and B) remained properly sealed, so hats off to Ball corp, and also me I guess

Update: WE BE JAMMIN’

Spices I used for this recipe:

-Cinnamon

-Nutmeg

-Ginger

-Allspice

-Vanilla Extract

The combination worked out very well!

Gotta can the rest of it after I eat tho :P

So, I FINALLY managed to can all the jam, except for like … 6 oz of it, so I made shortbread cookies to use that with ;)

Altogether I did end up with 72 jars of jam, 12 of which are the 4oz size though. What the fuck am I gonna do with all this jam, jesus christ

Anyway, thanks for coming to my jam-filled TED talk guys, take care

send me some jam op

This is my bfs grandparents with pecans. They have two full deep freezers filled with pecans

These math problem weirdos need to be stopped

I’ll inflict that “millions of peaches song on you all”

*breaks out kazoos*

Send me jam. Now. If ever you loved me.
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aughtpunk:

sexybaldwin:

I was feeling really upset in my car before and decided to turn on the radio and when I did it was playing FUCKING DESPACITO

That’s so sad universe play despacito
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dangcrgays:

dablueocarina:

mogtheforgetfulhuman:

swarmofbees-official:

livlove54:

swarmofbees-official:

hey guys why did the bee get married?

Why?

because she found her honey!

I guess they’re just meant to bee

Only good buzz surrounding this relationship

They were lesbeeans
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friendly-animals:

(Source)
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thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

were-all-queer-here:

Yesssss 👏👏👏 trans friends getting the love and respect and support they deserve from their partner is what I fucking LIVE for

Oh my gosh I am SO HAPPY for her! <3
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birdiethebibliophile:

One thing I’m so grateful for in the TAZ verse is that there are - and this may seem like a weird way to put it - adult women.

I don’t just mean women who are in their thirties or forties and look like Hollywood actresses. I’m talking about women in their fifties and sixties and older who are still living their lives and loving their lives. I’m talking about Lucretia, a woman in her mid-fifties who has white hair and an air of authority and an amazing sense of humor and is the savior of the multiverse. I’m talking about Cassidy, a woman in her sixties who makes a new friend and starts a new career after her previous one falls apart. I’m talking about Paloma, the “oldest person [Taako’s] ever seen in real life” who is an integral plot point and laughs at dick jokes. I’m talking about Mama, a woman in her fifties (?) who drives around in a truck and is a badass protector of a bunch of vampires and ghosts and gets into enough shit that she has to stumble into the lodge, her duster in bad shape and leaning on her shotgun.

So often in media, I see stories either focused on young women (my age into early thirties), or, even if the characters and/or actors are supposed to be older, who look no older than thirty. I want something to look forward to - I want to be able to look into the future and see myself aging and still see myself living a full life and fighting monsters and saving the world, wrinkles and greying hair and all. I don’t want my media to stop once I turn thirty, or even forty. I want to imagine that I’ll keep living beyond that, and keep loving my life. These characters are so important to me because I want someone to look up to and something to look forward to. So thank you, Griffin, for giving me those women, not prettifying them or smoothing over their flaws and wrinkles. Thank you for letting them be big and loud and funny and happy. Thank you for allowing me to see a glimpse into my own future, hopefully, and look forward to it with joy and expectation.
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hubedihubbe:

hubedihubbe:

hubedihubbe:

hubedihubbe:

I’ve been wanting to do a thing like this for a while. Behold my amazing animu mongah skills there wow swoons

2016 rendition!

She finally has hands!

She’s on her way!
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folkpunkrattrash:

“I hate to kill her but she sucks,” is a fucking brutal line.
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xanthera:

shesnake:

“I think it’s vital that teachers are trained about dyslexics, about dyslexia, about spotting it, and about working with dyslexic kids. It’s absolutely vital because the world is changing and imagination is key to everything and there’s going to be a lot of kids whose potential are lost unless we train our teachers to effectively teach them.”

Keira Knightley for Made By Dyslexia

#dude the fact that shes an actor with dyslexia is unreal #you know HOW MUCH actors have to read?! #and they change the script constantly #so much respect
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okagami:

marypsue:

Kill the idea that naivety is an unforgivable flaw but cynicism is just wisdom, murder it, chop it up and serve it for dinner, I don’t care, just end this bullshit idea that it’s better to hate than to love and better to rot in miserable bitter resignation than to hope for the best.
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leahberman:

a chill in the air

instagram
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punlich:

punlich:

You’re a good person and you treat yourself unfairly

A lot of people are reblogging this post with “nah I’m trash” and I just want to say listen you problematic fucks, you have more value then you realize
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annadittmann:

‘Poise’

Prints available here

annadittmann.com
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Romeo + Juliet, 1996
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thebootydiaries:

Interviewer: So, Mr Loaf…

Meat Loaf: please, call me meat
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turing-tested:

me, holding the water gun with shaking hands, tears in my eyes: you’ve crossed me for the last time. you know the rules. it has to be this way

my cat, who has gotten onto the counter yet again: *purrs*

me, wiping away tears and steadying my hand: there’s nothing you can say to make this easier
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bai-xue:

So one time in my 10th grade English class, we were doing a journalism-related project where we had to look through a newspaper for certain articles and cut them out and study them, I don’t remember exactly why. The teacher brought in a huge stack of newspapers and we all grabbed one and started doing our thing.

I wanna stress that Mr. B was an incredibly chill teacher and was super good, and he really believed that high school students should be encouraged to take responsibility for their education and that teachers should be willing to engage in deep conversations with their classes. He was almost always willing to answer questions. But this ended up proving too much for even poor Mr. B.

Now, I was a precocious little shit, but while reading my newspaper article I came across a phrase that truly confused me: “sodomised with a pine cone.” There was no context in the article which could have told me what this meant. It was 2002 and I had access to the internet, so I knew about the concept itself (and indeed multiple other concepts), but from sheer chance I had just never happened across the word “sodomy” before. This 15-year-old’s bum-related vocabulary went no further than butt-sex, fudge-packing, ass-fucking, or anal if you’re feeling technical.

I read the whole article, then read it again, trying to figure out what in the world had been allegedly done with this pine cone. There was nothing whatsoever to indicate what was involved in being sodomised, especially not with a pine cone. There was only the implication that it was painful, considering a hospital visit was involved.

So, finally, I raised my hand. And poor Mr. B, he called on me.

“Mr. B, what does ‘sodomized’ mean?” I asked.

All my classmates looked up from their newspaper clippings and notebooks, also curious, because apparently none of them had ever heard this word before, either. Mr. B, a man in his thirties with many years of teaching behind him, stood there silently staring back at me, a 15-year-old girl, as twenty other pairs of eyes watched him expectantly. I can only imagine the panic in his brain at that moment.

Finally, he sighed. “Go look it up in the dictionary, Karen.”

I stood and went over to the cabinet in the corner where Mr. B kept a huge copy of the Merriam-Webster. My classmates, meanwhile, started looking in their newspapers for the article that had prompted my question, all of them trying to figure out what it meant to be sodomised with a pine cone.

When I found the word, everything clicked. “Oh, EW,” I burst out. I went straight back to my desk and sat down.

“So? What does it mean?” My classmates asked me.

I looked at Mr. B. He had his head in his hands.

“Go look it up yourselves,” I told them.

A couple kids got up and did just that. When they returned, their faces were grim with the new knowledge of what could be done with a pine cone.

“Well?” The other students asked.

“It’s butt sex,” one of them said solemnly, looking and sounding exactly like someone announcing an incoming nuclear missile.

We all looked at each other, pondering the technicalities of putting a pine cone up your ass.

Then the bell rang, and the incident was never spoken of again.
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