where'd the grinch get that dog

Anutka

Why do people keep on giving me horrified looks in the train station. It’s Halloween, I’m a bunny 🐰

Cute little medieval bunny 🐰

@hrimceald

- Dog star, burning through a vast black sky -

In memory of Laika: a greater friend to mankind than mankind was to her.

my drive home from work yesterday

Tumblr is the only place with enough patience to suffer my minimum effort Pictionary-style self portrait of myself in my car long enough to get to the ducks. I can check analytics on other sites that show most people are clicking away before the ducks.

A shivering shape at the edge of your eye — the figure who waits at the end of the drive.

My latest cartoon for Guardian Books.

my love of Antarctica has taken me places I would’ve never gone before (watching a silent film)

Glad I’m watching this alone because this shot came on screen and I literally pointed at it and said “oh my god a tabular iceberg”

An early Halloween cartoon for New Scientist

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

They say no one is living here — but lights come on, once every year.

An early Halloween cartoon for Guardian Books

so ummm welcome to my jar:) lemme show you around! theres some holes poked in the top so i can breathe, theres some leaves to munch on, and ive even got a twig! #mytwig

if you spend your life bitching and complaining about the fact people are 'expected' to engage in the dreaded pointless banal '''small talk''' instead of learning to trade pleasantries with the people around you, you will never know the true and heady joy of doing a dumb bit with a complete stranger and as a result your soul will remain small

#my favorite bit is when i wear my wrist braces in public and someone asks if I got hurt#and I tell them something patently insane #'I got into a Kung Fu Battle with the local canada geese' insane #and realizing that We Are Playing A Game #they will Yes And me #'Oh yeah they've been taking lessons from the squirrels' they nod #and within two minutes the lady cutting my fabric at the quilt store and I have a whole bit about the urban animals all being in rival dojo #The grandma behind me chimes in that the fat raccoons under her porch must be doing Sumo

oh my god it’s laika day everyone drop what you’re doing… we honour a little dog who was sent up into space 65 years ago today. she was found as a three year old stray mongrel wandering the streets of moscow. her ability to endure hardy conditions got her chosen as the candidate for a journey she was never meant to survive. she passed away seven hours after liftoff. I hope she died dreaming of chasing rabbits up in the stars I love u laika forever and ever

Never forget, she was loved

She was not killed as an act of cruelty, or simply neglected. People cared about her, and the many space dogs who survived proves it

She was loved

great ritual for honoring Laika's memory (from another thread)

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…

I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

Fuck man

My mom likes to refrence a story she read

About a guy who escaped North Korea

He said living there was like living in a pot

And he grew up there, so he grew into the shape of the pot

But once he was out

And the pot was gone

He was still in the shape of the pot

And he had to work really hard to grow outside that shape

I think its the same with alot of things

Art, gender presentation, decoration prefrences, food, hobbies

You forget what made you happy in favor of what kept you alive.

illustrations by William Steig for Wilhelm Reich’s Listen, Little Man!