babygirl your enormous eyebags and just barely noticeable tremor have captivated me
09.14.14_06.59 Curious Coyote Pups
William Harper
What
….this was an absolute R i d e and i am irrevocably curious
Let me just say as someone who is up to date on this comic, this isn’t the wildest thing to happen.
is…IS THAT FUCKING SWIPER???!?!
I fully assumed this was just some crazy one-shot, and now I find out there’s over a hundred other pages just like it.
There’s how many pages.
there’s 131 pages and this comic is a masterpiece
may i share with you the best video on the internet
Hardware store saturday
1999-2003 Renault Scénic
@cat-identifier identify the car cat if you feel like it
Phenotype: black mackerel tabby shorthair with <50% white
This does feel like the kind of cat that would be a mechanic.
Breed: Likely random-bred
Interesting Features: wrench
wronch,,,
100k notes and I get the jerma womb tattoo
the tattoo in question
oh fuck oh gods oh shit
Hi followers, there's enough of you to get this post to a 100k, reblog and like plz :)
Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.
Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.
Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.
You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.
As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.
Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.
This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.
A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.
What if you put toothpaste on your dick and I used it as a toothbrush😍
No, you will not do this to me!
I refuse to let the fucking toothbrush post be my legacy on the internet
reblog, teasing sam by making this her legacy just like neb is known for soup
sorry the what
Oh, you are missing out on some serious lore ;p
W-would you care to inform me hun? It sounds too interesting to not hear about it.
I guess only if @esthermika wanted that ;p
So. It started with a post: "Call me pizza the way I moz her ella". Pretty good post i thought. I made that post because someone bragged to me about eating pizza and i got jelly about it. Later, when I got my pizza, I made the second post: "Sloppy pizza sex with mozzarella lube and semen cheese". Then someone decided that i would funny tell me to eat cum covered pizza. I went along with the joke and now i'm cursed with pizza fucker jokes forever more.
hey have you seen pilf.gif? she is saved in my computer for totally non-nefarious reasons
@esthermika you might not be the onky pizzafucker anymore gawddahm
Aand just like that the toothpaste dick post is back on your blog, it has come full circle
toothbrush dick
I-I-I... it's way beyond me...
not this fucking post again
does anyone in this thread smoke weed