souredvalentine

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Knowledge is empowering

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they used to make smackable technology. you used to be able to hit your tv when it didn't work good.

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you know in retrospect it's weird that the splatooniverse has a band called "the squid sisters" when, like... they Are squids. that's like if the real world had a band called "the human league"

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I love you “unlikeable” female characters I love you rude girls I love you mean women I love you girl interpretations of the “Asshole with a Heart of Gold” trope I love you women who get labeled Cold and Unfeeling I love you girls who lash out I love you women who lie I love you female characters who make people mad just by existing

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if you dont want print media to die, buy physical copies of things. if you don’t want independent journalism to die, subscribe to a local newspaper. if you want more libraries and skate-parks and arcades, get a bunch of friends and call in the individual charge of your village or town or whatever and ask for one to be built and use the existing ones. if you want more native flora and fauna, start looking at the ones that already exist and how to preserve them. this is your world too. fight for it. get rid of the rot of passivity.

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I stumbled upon a website that allows you to blend any colors evenly no matter how opposite on the spectrum they are.

sharing the knowledge

very helpful art resource

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did I ever tell yall I used to think charlie chaplin was a drag king. for like three years straight

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every day I think about the religious anime girls…

And how the artist drew several pro-Palestine drawings like this one

in 2014, that’s right, 2014, this did not fucking start October 7th.

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around when I first started dating my boyfriend i bought myself this novelty blanket that looks like a photorealistic tortilla because I am SUCH A SUCKER for novelty shit. when he saw it in person for the first time his eyes lit up, which should have been a warning sign for the indignities to come.

so he’s a first responder and his day shifts start obnoxiously early as far as I, a pampered corporate asshole, am concerned. almost invariably when he’s at my place there will be an alarm at an hour that is downright unconscionable that will make him wake up and roll out of bed to get ready and will simultaneously make me burrow under the pillows grumbling about how surely nobody actually NEEDS their lives saved this early in the morning, after which I will promptly attempt to go back to sleep

he is a clever man and he knows this is when i am most vulnerable to attack.

every single time we do this dance, he quietly dresses, packs up, goes about getting ready to leave, and then when i have juuuust fallen back asleep, he returns with the tortilla blanket. He finds it no matter where I have hidden it.

He then creeps silently up to my side of the bed and uses his superior speed, strength, and reflexes to wrap me up in it incredibly tightly while i am still dazed and sputtering, so that i cannot move my legs or arms and am reduced to humiliating halfhearted magikarp flops that do not deter him from at least attempting to kiss my forehead.

then he goes to my bedroom door, opens it, then pauses, turns around, looks at me, the soft human filling of the facsimile of an enormous burrito he has just constructed, and says in his best romantic lead voice “I’ll see you soon, beans.”

you cannot understand how devastating it is to my ego that i am beans.

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i love little kids with very niche interests. Like for awhile I nannied for a family who had a little girl who loved old black and white movies. She adopted a transatlantic accent, constantly wore a long string of plastic pearls, and would often dramatically drape herself over pieces of furniture when told to do something and say “I just can’t do it babe”

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spent 8 hours on these tag urself i’m sweet revenge [dont repost]

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I saw a comic panel and I couldn't resist og utc

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Hello, Kevin

You have spent the last six months terrifying your roommate's new boyfriend. Every time he comes over for board game night, you dress up as a clown, despite being told repeatedly that he had a phobia. You have made your apartment a hostile space and destabilized their relationship. But now, the joke is on you.

In front of you is a tattoo machine and a mirror. You have one hour to tattoo your own nose red. If you fail to do so, the occupants of that tiny car in the corner of the room will come out and beat every last laugh out of you.

I'm sure you think there can't be more than one person in there. But I promise, we aren't clowning around.

Live as the joke that you are or die as the punchline, Kevin. Make your choice.