I JUST REALLY WANNA MAKE 3D MTG CARDSSSS
Its like chattering teeth
WATCHING THIS DROVE ME UP THE WALL
Extreme Tortoise Close-Up!
Arlo Midgett set up his camera near a tortoise and the old creeper moseyed on over to investigate. I promise you, if you set this to full screen and HD, you’ll never look at a tortoise the same way again.
Instead, you’ll probably look at it like this (I can’t be the only one who immediately thought of The Neverending Story right?!):
Morla and other tortoises are true “ancient ones”. Which made me wonder: Why DO they live so long? The short answer is “because it’s an evolutionary advantage based on their environment and reproductive process.”
The long answer is much more interesting, and can be found here at Slate.
Today in art history class we learned about Victorian weeaboos.
That is, people in the Victorian era who were obsessed with Japan. It was called Japanisma.
I had to try really hard to not die in class.
chzcake asked: hey! I wanted to ask you what you think of the whole Yahoo and Tumblr thing, and if they join together. You always have a good insight on things!
aww thanks Christine :3 I’m honestly pretty neutral. As someone that has used Google for things like web searches and email, I’m not a huge fan of Yahoo!. I also wonder how much of this was out of necessity and how much is David Karb kicking back and laughing in a bath tub filled with gold coins… or maybe I watched too much “Duck Tales”. It seems like nothing much will come of it, except that any changes made to Tumblr will probably happen faster (according to the post made by the staff, anyway). So, yeah. That’s the long answer.
You sit at the restaurant with your young son, he says he is hungry. You agree to get him dinner. You open up to the kids menu, your child is far to young for adult food. Chicken nugger stares at you from the page. You don’t understand. Your palms get sweaty and your son complains. He says he is hungry. Your mind strains, searching for an answer in a world of sweer potato and french fried. You try to order the chicken nugger, but you cannot. The words cannot escape your lips. Your son is hungry, he complains. The waitress stares at you, her head a spinning chicken nugger, her arms swinging french fried. Your son cries the tears of a chicken nugger-less child. In your mind you scream. It is raining sweer potato now, you have french fried engraved on your left temple and you do not understand. Your son weeps in the corner, he is starving. Starving for the chicken nugger.
I can’t breathe