the recreation + child-making area is right next to the septic outlet. if humans were 'intelligently designed' it was by a civic engineer that should've been fired

We have a blindspot in our eyes because our optic nerve goes through the retina.

our last set of molars often grows in sideways because we don't even need them anymore

Our bodies eventually evolved to turn off the ability to heal from spinal injuries because the repair process is so poorly coded that it was more likely to kill us than it was to help. The reason your spine doesn’t mend itself like other body parts and deteriorates is because we have specific genes telling the body “don’t fucking try to fix that thing, just leave it the fuck alone, all you’ll do is fuck it up”.

#the human body is it's own argument against the existence of god

This gets funnier to me everything I watch it.

I love that she’s not putting on a scary mask, or making scary faces or noises, or wearing her clothes to distort her figure, or doing anything overtly scary or inhuman. She’s just… walking in a way that humans are technically capable of walking and it’s somehow terrifying. It’s not even just that it’s unusual– if she’d come around the corner walking on her hands I doubt they’d have bolted.

I wonder if this is a learned fear (from horror movies and such) or something instinctive about the pose?

WHY IS THIS FUNNY?!?!?!

I love kids they’re all like.. “when i grow up i’m gonna be an astronaut and a chef and a doctor and an olympic swimmer” like that self confidence! That drive! That optimism! Where does it go

It gets destroyed by adults not believing in you and telling you to pick a realistic career. And by society creating all these obstacles to the point that you’re too tired to try.

But they’re not really unrealistic, SOMEBODY is going to be an olympic swimmer and it might as well be you.

Actually I want to talk about this a little more than I did, because olympic swimming is incredible and works perfectly to talk about attaining goals.

I used to be a varsity swimmer, and I was damn good, but I was forced into it by my parents and completely lost my love for it and therein my drive. But in high school I was swimming against such talented swimmers like Olympic Swimmer Missy Franklin. I’ve met her, and the main difference between her and me was that I was strong but had no passion, but she was strong BECAUSE she had passion. 

And I could have been good, really good, maybe even Olympic good. I even have the predisposition for it, been swimming since I was 2 years old, have a mom who was almost an olympic swimmer. Missy didn’t have either of those things, she just wanted it, loved it, had been doing it for a long time, and decided she was going to kick ass at it.

Right, that’s great and all, but I completely missed my opportunity to be an olympic swimmer, yeah? and can never achieve those dreams I had as a kid? No, not even though. There was this whole thought that female athletes peak when they’re 17 years old and lose their skills quickly after that, and male athletes peak around 19. But then Olympic Swimmer Dara Torres shows up. She was an olympic swimmer when she was 17, 21 and 25. Pretty normal age for retirement. She had a few kids. She kicked butt at being a mom. 

And then at 33 years old she decides she’s bored or something gets back in shape and kicks so much ass at the trials that she lands herself on the Olympic Team ONCE AGAIN. And then 8 years later, she decides, heck I’m 41 now, no one has ever made the olympic swim team as old as I am, I want to get in shape yet again and teach these children how sports work.

And she still has the record for oldest US Olympic Swimmer, not even any men have beat out that record.

So basically what I’m saying is you could be an olympic swimmer, you really could be. And there are obviously a lot of things stopping you and trying to get in your way: your brain, society, too much chocolate cake for example. But if you really dedicate yourself to it and love it with all of your heart you could, you really could.

And lets say olympic swimming isn’t your jam? That’s cool too. There isn’t a single skill in this world that you can’t learn if you absolutely love it and want to. Any skill you want is going to take time. There are countless famous people who started learning a skill after 20, 30, 40, or even 50. Not a single person has even been president under age 35 (most likely because you’re not allowed to be, but there’s a reason for that). Whatever you want to do you’re probably going to be bad at first, and I’m talking really shitty.

Van Gogh got started in his 20′s and was thought to have no artistic talent at first and was forced to sit in the back of classrooms where the worst artists in the class sat. So yeah you’ll probably be bad, like really bad and everyone including you will think you’re bad. If you stick with it though, if you’re willing to work for years and years, if you keep loving it after all the pain it’s given you, 

then you might just paint Starry Night.

#looks like there’s still time for me to learn how to draw … YES. As someone who started drawing at 35 and who always was like: ‘eh, I can’t draw a stick figure to save my life, but I would love to be able to’ this is near and dear to my heart. If you want to draw, start drawing. Keep drawing. Be shit at drawing at first. Keep it up, doodle things on scraps but also draw stuff you don’t think you can draw. Challenge yourself, you will be surprised what you can do. It will be frustrating at times, but it will also be awesome. It is SO much a matter of practice and dedication, not talent.

This applies for writing, too.  

Don’t ever think for a second that it doesn’t!  Want to start writing?  Then write!  You will get better the more you write, the more often, and you will improve, all of the time, as long as you dedicate yourself.  

The worst lie we tell ourselves is “it’s too late.”

Talent is a pursued interest.

Human’s are pursuit predators.

Be awesome.

DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THE NEANDERTHAL CHILD WITH DOWN'S SYNDROME? Because they're all I've been thinking about when I'm sad for the past few days. Their existence makes me less sad.

Did you know that this is not a rarity? We have found remains showing catastrophic injuries - permanently disabling ones. With fully remodeled, healed bones.

It is NOT the default, it is NOT human nature to exclude disabled people from society. By nature we look after each other, by nature disability is just a natural part of the human variety that's made us so successful as a species.

By nature, people love.

when florence and the machine said "I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject" and when romeo x juliet said "a simple life with you would be paradise" and johnathan coulton said "it's okay, I like you in glasses" and everything everywhere all at once said "in another life I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

How you doing friend

realizing more and more as I grow older that a mundane and imperfect life shared with the people I love is all I could ever really want or need and that I'm so thankful for the chance to experience it hbu

its 1am and i am overwhelmed with love for a person who kindly and knowledgeably answered questions on a forum about niche topics. this is not the first time and it absolutely will not be the last

I wanted to figure out how to identify/describe a silver blade vs a steel blade for a fic, and I found a post on silver-collecter.com from 2010, and answers from a man named uncle_vic:

in this same thread, olewheat asked about another silver piece; uncle_vic explained that blades were not made from silver, because it'd be too soft - often carbon steel would be silver plated, and eventually get pitted.

after a volley of questions, several users asked if they could contact uncle_vic directly. vic responded, very kindly:

I am always, always charmed by a clearly veteran hobbyist helping out new people on a forum, and i wanted to see what else uncle_vic posted, what other nuggets about his life i could learn, and it turns out he was a pillar of the community:

He joined in 2006, when the website was only 2 months old, and throughout the next 6 years, he helped many identify their silver pieces, and welcomed them all with: "Hi there and thanks for joining us", and always ended with a "Regards, Uncle Vic"

He helped so often, he'd post on the social thread to let people know he'd be gone without internet access for an extended period of time!

These often didn't get many interactions, but he did so anyway, like a journal made public: one about how a hurricane was reaching him in Baton Rouge; several about his fishing trips, like this one in 2011:

A year later, he wrote a similar vacation post, which became his final topic on the forum, titled: "Gone fishin'".

In May 2012, 3 months later, a newer user asked Vic what type of fishing he liked.

Vic replied: (content warning for cancer)

This was Uncle Vic's last post on the silver-collecter.com forums. Unflinchingly honest, and this time, instead of his usual "Regards", he ended with "Keep the Faith".

According to the obituary posted in the same thread, he passed away the next day, at his camp on the Tickfaw river -- well known for fishing.

--

This isn't the first time I've come across kind, dedicated forum users, usually knowledgeable retirees, who suddenly stop posting; it certainly won't be the last. But everytime I fall in love with them, and in turn, with humanity even more, to see what we leave behind.

A retired Cajun lawyer from Baton Rouge found a silver collecting forum from a hobbyist magazine in 2006, and decided to spend the next 6 years, up to his dying day, sharing his life, his love, and his knowledge with strangers.

Thank you, Uncle Vic, for the forum users you helped; thank you for the countless, anonymous users who found your posts through search engines like me.

I'm glad your corner of the internet exists so that, 12 years since you've been gone, I can visit and you can still teach me a whole lot about identifying silver and silver makers.

So I'm washing a blanket. It is a weighted blanket so it cannot go in the ancient washing machine (can I just call that a washine? Is that allowed?). But it NEEDS to be washed. So I put it in the tub and filled it with hot water and detergent and got to scrubbing.

And I'm sat there beside this tub of hot water and suds and cloth, hands and forearms red from the heat of the water and the friction of the washing, sweat dripping into the mix off my forehead, and the thought wanders through my brain that this has been done, like this, for almost all of human history. Maybe it was a metal tub, or a wooden one, or a river or lake shore, but through all of our time here together we have done this thing in this way.

I cherish these moments so dearly. Washing and wringing and hanging. Kneading bread. Sweeping the floor. Putting things in baskets. Owning a bag with a strap or two for carrying things that need carrying. Building a fire. Roasting meat. These things are eternal for us and we have always done them. When I do these things it's like....it's not just me. It's everyone.

You may not be here but you did this thing. Your hands knew these motions. Your heart beat like mine, and I feel you there. I feel you here with me. Do you feel me too?

Individualism is a lie. Everything I am and everything I do was built by other people, and I have helped build others. You are with me and I am with you and there is so much love in that.

This is lovely advice.

Met an old teacher today and we got talking about ‘the good old times’ and ten minutes into the conversation I jokingly said the one regret I have from middle school is that I never won anything at her magnificent tombolas? Because, like, she used to hold this game about once a month so we’d learn the numbers in French and it was never big prizes, but as a 12-yo I desperately craved them - a cactus-shaped eraser, a bright blue notebook with slightly larger-than-usual squares, a set of coloured pens - and never ever got a single one of them. 

(Actually spent a good few months thinking I was genetically unlucky and researching ancient family curses with my grandma.) 

So today I don’t know what I was hoping for - nothing, really?

(I mean, that part of me that’s still twelve was probably expecting this sweet old woman to have a set of glitter stickers in her purse and just go ‘You know what, you’re right - I’ve been saving this one for you all these years, here you go’ but I’m a solidly rational person and I know that’s stupid.)

No, I thought we’d just laugh and it would be a good shared memory and that would be it. Instead, my teacher got flustered and a bit embarrassed and explained the game was rigged. It was never about learning French at all. She’d just noticed some kids couldn’t afford even basic stationery, so she’d buy a few half-fancy items every month with her own money just for them. She didn’t want them to feel different or left out. And obviously the way she used to walk around in the classroom, looking over our shoulders - it wasn’t to prevent cheating. It was because she was cheating herself, wanting to see which number a particular child needed to get a Minnie Mouse pencil case.

Guys - the world is fucked up, but so many people out there are just good and kind and humbly heroic it honestly gives me hope. 

It’ll be alright, you’ll see.

this is killing me it's so cute

OMG everyone I know the ACTUAL story behind the gif this time! Yes, it’s in Australia– that’s a big angry goanna that wandered into a popular restaurant. All the Australians in the vicinity went OH FUCK NO and cleared off, because goannas are mean. The waitress you see there is a French exchange student, who was quoted as saying something to the effect of “I thought it was a weird ugly dog” and had no idea it was a reptile that wanted to rip her arms off. She’s been hailed as a hero who saved diners.

It’s amazing what power “not knowing” has.

The thing I especially love about this is this is a pretty dangerous animal, except she managed to defeat it by just fucking grabbing it by the tail and walking too quickly for it to turn around. Once again the animal kingdom is thwarted because we evolved opposable thumbs, long limbs, and reckless bravery.

weird, ugly dog thwarted by foreign exchange student and polished floors 

my take-home lesson here is that nobody in france has ever first-hand seen a dog

no no, french dogs just be like that

unrecognizable force VS ignorant object

the comments on this get better and better every time it comes across my dash

This video got posted on Reddit a while back, and when I identified the lizard as a goanna, I got THIS delicious response from a dudebro:

Please tell me you destroyed this man by proceeding to correct his asinine “correction”.

Lizard: Fear me for i am-

Waitress: Getting the fuck outta here to wait outside, that’s what you are.

Lizard: but i’m-

Waitress: O-U-T-S-I-D-E

Lizard: *fails and flops in a childlike tantrum as he get’s dragged outside*

Lizard: *fails and flops

in a childlike tantrum as

he get’s dragged outside*

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

sobbing and crying at the woman who stole a meth addicted kitten from her dealer and then she and the kitten got clean together

thats love baby!!

Reminds me of the guy who got his life together for his shrimp, good for them both.

I’ll never forget the time my parents said they were going out for a few hours, and left my siblings and me at home by ourselves (ages 9-14), and instead of going nuts or just sitting around, we all rushed and did our hair and makeup and got dressed as fancy as we could; sister pulled out the wine glasses and grape juice and made an hors d'oeuvres platter, another googled how to play poker, pulled out chips from a different game, dimmed the lights, and we set up a fancy 4-person gambling den at the kitchen table and played until my parents said they were on their way back with dinner. Then we quickly picked everything up, washed our faces, changed back into our casual clothes, and pretended nothing ever happened. They never found out.

I think having a baby niece is great cause my brother will send me just a constant stream of messages that sound indistinguishable from how someone at Jurassic park would text if they were being hunted by the raptor

My grandfather and my godfather (a beloved neighbor and dear family friend) had a long standing bet- for one dollar- about who would die first. Both of them being slightly pessimistic (in the funny way), they both insisted that they themselves would be the first to die. Any time my grandfather had a health scare, he’d gleefully call up my godfather to boast that he’d be passing “any day now” and he was sure to win the bet. It was a big family joke and they were always amiably sparring and comparing notes about who was in worse shape, medically speaking.

When my grandfather was in hospice care dying of liver cancer, my godfather was quite ill also. It took him great effort to make the journey to see his dying friend. As he came into the room, supported by a family member, he shuffled to my grandpa’s bedside and silently handed him a dollar bill. He was ceding his loss of the bet, as they both knew who was going first. My grandpa had been in quite bad shape for a while and was no longer able to speak but let me tell you he snatched that dollar with unexpected strength and literally laughed aloud. He knew exactly what the gesture meant and he couldn’t help but find the humor within the grief. It was the last time any of us heard my grandpa laugh, as he passed shortly after.

When I talk about my appreciation for “dark humor” I’m not so much thinking about edgy jokes, but rather the human instinct to somehow, impossibly, both find and appreciate the absurdity that is so often folded into the profound grief of life and death. When I tell this story I think it kind of perturbs people sometimes, but it’s honestly one of my favorite memories about two men I really deeply admired. I could never hope for anything more than for my loved ones to remember me laughing until the very end, and taking joy in a little joke as one of my final acts.