Kamegani

Another very special #Ravenclaw edition 💙 all tea all shade

jewish-belle:

vaguely-pagan:

space-trash-princess:

just-a-fat-bird:

garbageshepard:

feathersmoons:

This is particularly sweet because that wolf almost undoubtedly didn’t have a pack. He was lonely. And then he wasn’t lonely: he had all the weird little squished stunted-development wolves and their weird bipedal not-wolves!

i am ugly crying like snot just avalanched out of my face i love dogs

@mizzwilde

This should be a children’s book

@followmeonelasttime literally crying here

there is water in my eyes

Parece que la única preocupación de los fabricantes de sardinas en lata es cómo encajar el máximo número de unidades en un espacio reducido. Una imagen que siempre es evocada cuando algún medio de transporte viene lleno a rebosar, especialmente autobuses urbanos, metros, trenes y aviones de aerolíneas low cost.

"Parecemos sardinas en lata" se ha convertido en una expresión muy popular para reflejar las situaciones en las que somos obligados a apretujarnos entre desconocidos, muchos de ellos con una higiene personal alejada de nuestros estándares.

Una agencia de marketing rusa, Brandiziac, ha utilizado ese concepto para modernizar el tradicional empaquetado de estos productos.

Han diseñando un packaging que convierte la lata en un divertido autobús repleto, como no puede ser de otra manera, de sardinas con cara de pocos amigos.

El bus está repleto de detalles divertidos. Especialmente el toque marinero del conductor, con gorra de capitán de barco y manejando una rueda de timón en lugar de un volante. También es peculiar el sistema de frenado, en forma de ancla colocada en la parte posterior.

Visto en Creapills

(A guy walks into the shelter with a closed cardboard box.)

Guy: “I have a donation to make to your shelter.”

Me: “Sure. What kind of donation do you have? Toys, food, or beds?”

Guy: “It’s a bunch of puppies.”

Me: “Sir, that’s not a donation. That’s the reason we need donations.”

(I am sitting on the couch at home, relaxing after a 12-hour work day.)

Me: “I’m feeling a bit down. Can you say something lovely about me?”

Boyfriend: “BOOBS!”

Me: “Maybe something a bit more romantic?”

Boyfriend: *pauses to think* “CANDLELIGHT BOOBS!”

Me: *sighs* “That works.”

(A customer came up to me while I am stocking the cooler.)

Customer: “Where’s the straight milk?”

Me: “What? What’s straight milk?”

Customer: “Straight milk!”

Me: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Customer: “Straight milk, so it doesn’t turn my kids gay.”

Me: “Milk doesn’t turn anybody gay!”

Customer: “Sure it does. See right here. It’s HOMO-genized milk. I want the HETERO-genized milk.”

Me: “…”

[Reposted from xxepdudexx via soadysta]

fuckyeahwarriorwomen:

animatedamerican:

mildlyamused:

Another day, another kick ass woman from history who is sadly lacking her own movie franchise.

Source

but nah, women never did anything interesting or exciting in the Old Days

She was known as the Lioness of Brittany.

Holy fuck balls!

(One man, probably in his mid-twenties, is sitting with two similarly-aged attractive women.)

Me: “Good afternoon, ladies and gentle sir. My name is [Name] and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you anything to drink while you look at the menus?”

Female #1: “I’ll take a Coke.”

Female #2: “Me, too.”

Me: “Okay. Two Cokes, and… for you, sir?”

Guy: “Don’t call me ‘sir’! I’m too young to be a ‘sir.’”

Me: “Yeah, I know how you feel. Can I get you anything to drink though, s- uh, mister?”

Guy: “Don’t call me mister, either! And I’ll have an iced tea.”

Me: “Okay, okay. Sorry. Two cokes and an iced tea, coming right up.”

(I get the drinks quickly and come back to their table.)

Me: “Right, here we go. Two cokes for the lovely young ladies, and an iced tea for… ah, young master.”

Guy: *buries his face in his arms in shame as the women burst out laughing*

In 1982, 24-year-old schizophrenic patient J.S. faced a difficult decision: The neuroleptic drug Prolixin relieved his psychotic symptoms, but it produced tardive dyskinesia, a progressive disorder that caused uncontrollable movements of his legs, arms, and tongue.

His therapist learned of an experimental program that might reduce this side effect, and J.S. signed consent forms to enter treatment. But the first step was to stop all medications, and without the Prolixin he descended again into psychosis and refused the experimental medication.

This produces an impossible dilemma: Does J.S.’ “sane” self have the right to overrule his “insane” self, if the two disagree? Can Dr. Jekyll bind Mr. Hyde? Such a directive is sometimes called a Ulysses contract, after the Greek hero who ordered his men to disregard his commands as they sailed past the sirens. If a patient directs his caregivers to ignore his own future requests, can the caregivers follow these orders?

In J.S.’ case, the answer was no. The research unit’s legal counsel decided that his earlier consent did not override his later refusal, and he was withdrawn from the program. When he resumed his antipsychotic medication and learned what had happened, he begged for another chance to try the experimental medication. Had they been wrong to refuse him?

(Morton E. Winston, Sally M. Winston, Paul S. Appelbaum, and Nancy K. Rhoden, “Can a Subject Consent to a ‘Ulysses Contract’?”, The Hastings Center Report, 12:4 [August 1982], 26-28)

by onfreeparking and others

m1ssred:

chemical reaction