tumblr please stop telling me to wd40 a mouse

i dont consider myself a 'fashion guru' by any means but one thing i will say is guys you dont need to know the specific brand an item you like is - you need to know what the item is called. very rarely does a brand matter, but knowing that pair of pants is called 'cargo' vs 'boot cut' or the names of dress styles is going to help you find clothes you like WAAAYYYY faster than brand shopping

this also goes for aesthetic or -core titles. 'y2k tank top' is going to get you resellers and fast fashion brands advertising to people looking to meet a current trend. 'thin strap crop tank top' is going to get you a diverse group of results and not upcharge you to hell and back

additionally, shop second hand when you can, second hand and thrift sites typically organize clothes by the cut and color. theyll be more affordable than a depop seller curating you a style to sell you

useful terminology for different kinds of clothing shapes :)

Woah how did that get there

MEAN TO HIM

just overheard my wife spelling something on the phone and i shit you not saying the words “E as in Eeyore” i am on my hands and knees wailing screaming crying pleading and begging people to learn the NATO phonetic alphabet

like the reason this exists is because none of the words sound like each other, which means that even with a terrible signal both parties should be able to clearly understand the words being spelled

i am dead serious that i believe this should be taught in school

I wanna make bigger projects one day but I cannot conceptualize Not having to do every aspect of it myself. Like I know animated shows are made by entire teams of people but I feel like I should have all the skills to do it by myself and the only reason I can’t do it is because I’m not applying myself enough. I’m not trying hard enough, not disciplined enough.

all my problems would be solved by a big enough polycule that i could run a consistent Lancer campaign for them

Of course this pops up after I start getting the Lancer brainrot

eat an entire can of sweetened condensed milk. you deserve it.

(sigh) okay... (CRUUEEENNNCH....) (SCREEEEEENCH...) owie.. (CRUUEEENCH)

this is one of the most rewarding things about posting self care tips on this site. witnessing people's lives getting better in real time. this is why I post

why is no amount of water hydrating enough. i must become 100% water

He's using the batarang as a spoon to eat ice cream

I love how kittens haven't quite figured out tails yet so they stick straight up

sonar

Antenna to receive radio commands

Shark fin cosplay

protection from flanking cavalry

Lightning rod

(guy stuck in a timeloop) fuckkkkk i got yesterday tomorrow

wyd after taking this

Playing Morrowind in a dark room with surround sound

I think about this Juggalo I met in Philly a lot.

It was probably five years ago now.

I used to get on the train after work sometimes and just go to center city. And there was a dress shop I'd stop in front of. The kind you don't walk into unless you know beyond a doubt you've got the dough to buy something.

There was a floor-length dress on a model in the window that I was taken by. It was stunning. With bead work enough to fill a craft room.

It glowed down at me from up on its pedestal of perfection, and I felt down my body, trying to imagine if I'd ever look good in something so magnificent. My pitiful excuse for self-worth was eating at me as I mentally checked every reason why, even if I could afford something so nice, it be wasted on someone like me.

I heard him before I saw him. The jingling of a wallet chain and the heavy thump of black work boots.

He stopped next to me, a big fucker, probably 6'8 or 6'9, in all black except his face which was done up with white and black grease paint. The lines were crisp, and the colors didn't bleed into one another at all. To finish the look, he was wearing an ICP tee, the sleeves cut off at the shoulders. He looked every bit the stereotype.

He looked down at me, them to the dress and then back at me.

I don't know what he saw but he spoke to me, with warmth and conviction the likes I'd never received from a stranger before.

"That dress would look beautiful on YOU."

I could only nod and give him a thank you. He shook his head and pointed at the dress then me.

"You aren't listenin. That DRESS," he pointed again for emphasis, "would look beautiful on YOU."

I thought I understood then what he was trying to say then. That I would be the one assigning the beauty. Not the dress, not the clothes. But me, the person wearing it. I nodded and thanked him again, saying it with more confidence.

Then he kept walking. I never saw him again. The interaction took probably all of twenty seconds. But I'll never forget.

The dress looks beautiful on YOU. Not because the fabric is nice or the materials or fine. But because it's on you. And you make it beautiful.

That's what I took away from Philly Juggalo that day. And I hope I never forget it.

I remember I was in college working the ticket counter for a play when this guy comes up and buys a ticket. I take his money, give him a ticket, and he says something about my voice. Like how I should be on radio, how I had a big, boisterous powerful voice.

And he couldn't have known. In high school, it took forever for my voice to start deepening and I was mocked for it constantly. I remember constantly being told my voice was screechy, annoying, some particularly nasty high school bullies liked to say my voice made them want to strangle kittens.

This guy couldn't have known all that, known the insecurity that years of that I carried because of it, insecurity about my voice in particular. When he said he liked my voice, that it belonged on the radio, he couldn't have known what it meant to me.

Guy probably doesn't even remember it these days. I was just a nameless extra in his life. He never saw me before, he never saw me again. And I don't remember his face, his name, anything. I wouldn't recognize him if I saw him again.

But I will remember that moment forever for how it cut through years of bullshit, ugliness and insecurity. For how that one conversation had such incredible power.

I hope some of the shit I say to people has that kind of power too. I wanna be someone's Philly Juggalo or Voice Guy. One compliment can have untold power.

I just comically spat out my water what is this

I don't care if it's probably fake it's too funny