Icon by @ThatSpookyAgent. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. The X-Files. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
i didn’t realise that gordon ramsey kitchen nightmares he was actually meant to help i just thought he went into random restaurants and started to harass people
i didn’t realise that gordon ramsey kitchen nightmares he was actually meant to help i just thought he went into random restaurants and started to harass people
tumblr is, if anything, the Appalachia of social media…easy to get lost, sparsely populated, out of the loop with fast-moving modern trends. Attached to tradition. Close-knit communities. Believe in “talk shit, get hit.” Everyone is doing their own thing in their own obscure little holler. Prone to pulling the most inventive turns of phrase you’ve ever heard out of nowhere. Somebody’s always starting a racket. We sometimes repel outsiders with much aggression. Lots of talk about hell and damnation to be found. Everybody tends to forget about us for some reason
What is pirating media but the moonshining of the internet
Hand mixers and Sewing Machines are Two different Types of horses
These are wild animals… Untamed Stallions…
They respond well to a confident handler, but they can smell fear and will act up if they don’t respect you. Other horses include printers and hot glue guns.
So one of my neighbors has a lawn Roomba or whatever they’re called, and this thing trundles around looking like a background robot in the background of the original trilogy, and ABSOLUTELY BAFFLING THE DOGS.
They have concluded, I think, that it’s some kind of prey animal because right after this video ended they decided to crouch down and stalk it, which means I’m 90% sure I’m going to have to stop Arwen from eating it at some point.
Of course it’s a prey animal it fucking eats GRASS
While I can’t fault your reasoning on robot taxonomy, apparently we’re both wrong: Arwen, as much as she is a high-prey-drive animal, is foremost, a herding dog, and has decided that the Lawn Roomba is a SHEEP.
What happened is the lawn roomba belongs to the guy that does most of the maintainence on the neighborhood park, and he had it out grazing on a different section of lawn when my parents came down for a walk and Arwen was siezed by 200 years worth fo Kelpie Instincts, rolled out of her Harness and proceded to herd the shit out of this tiny, oblivious robot.
Everything was on display- mock-stalking, intimidating eye contact, barking, running in front of it to try to get it to balk, the scariest barking she can muster (which is actually. pretty scary if you’re not used to Loud Dogs), looking back at my parents for directions. or rather, looking at my Mom while Dad tried unsuccessuflly to capture her.
After about ten minutes they realized she wasn’t biting it, and decided to let her play Sheep Simulator 5000 for a while. She eventually figured out that
It doesn’t respond to Yelling, Posturing or Aggressive Eye Contact
It does respond to having it’s wheels or bump hazards hit
It would respond to its side being nosed or slapped by moving in a different direction
Conent that this was apparently some kind of blind, deaf and particularly stupid sheep, she could now manage the robot by smacking it if it got too close to the creek bed or fence for her liking, and was eventually content to sit on the highest point of the field and Supervise ™ it.
“Hey.” Said Roger, owner of the robot. “Do you think if I put the ramp down she’ll herd it into the back of my pickup?”
Arwen was mostly asleep in the afternoon sun as roger put the ramp down but woke right up when mom Whistled, then pointed at the truck. She immediately went after the robot and did something that wouldn’t have occured to me, an allegedly more intelligent being: the robot is roughly triangular, and when it hits an obstacle, will change direction so that one of its other sides (rather than points) is now the ‘front’. So to get it to move in a straight line in the direction she wanted, Arwen would smack the two sides of the robot that she didn’t want it to go in in quick sucession, and got it across the field, over a small hill and up the ramp as fast as it’s clumsy little wheels could go.
“I didn’t know you had a fully-trained sheepdog!” Said Roger
“Me either.” said Mom.
So Arwen now has a Semi-Weekly Appointment to play with Sheepbot.
Well this is just beguiling
It also just goes to show that all the dudes who have fretted about the Robot Apocalypse for generations needed to hang out outside with dogs more
Anonymous:
what's your favourite fruit and what's a song you like to listen to when you're happy?
ooooo prob ultimate fav fruit is limes! They’re delicious and useful! Also love peaches and all the stone fruits. Also all the rest of the citrus fruits.
Cannot recommend enough doing a cold read of the Wikipedia article for clam juice out loud for eliciting wonder and disgust in a post dinner crowd. There was shouting from the room next door. I was very nearly crying by the end.
A geographical story in three parts (with thanks to @freetoflythecrimsonsky for pointing out that clam juice is a regional ingredient and no one outside New England understands it, and also that we can probably blame the concept that you should use the leftover water from steaming clams on the Puritans taking a zero-waste mentality to an extreme).
To be clear, I can understand adding it to fish-centric dishes for extra fishiness, since that’s not terribly different to, say, oyster sauce, but it was the Wikipedia section on its use in beverages that drove me into hysterics. To quote (please imagine a rising pitch of incredulous horror throughout, audience contributions added in square brackets, my emphasis etc etc):
Some restaurants and bars in the US serve shots of pure clam juice. For example, the Old Clam House in San Francisco, California serves a shot glass of hot clam juice [‘…ew’] at the beginning of each meal. In the early 1900s in the United States, clam juice was purported to be a hangover remedy. [‘as an emetic?!’ — my horrified audience]
The Everleigh Club, a former brothel in Chicago, Illinois, that was in operation from 1900 to October 1911, would serve iced clam juice and a tablet of aspirin as a starter for breakfast, which began at 2:00 in the afternoon. [indistinct scoffing and some juvenile chortles]
In the United States in the early 1900s, clam juice was used as an ingredient for various beverages at soda fountains. Beverages prepared with clam juice included hot clam juice, HOT CLAM SODA, [‘WHAT?!’ — visiting sibling in the next room, who let out a blast of steam from the iron in shock and promptly came in to hear better]hot ginger clam broth, hot celery punch, hot clam cream, [‘that might actually just taste like a sad bisque?’ — tentative commentary] clam night cap, tomato clam broth and others.
I mean…hot carbonated clam water. There’s no coming back from that. That’s the devil’s drink. No wonder New England’s full of horror stories, it’s cursed by clams.
[whispering] Just wait till they find out about Clamato.
FRIENDS! FELLOW FANS! MEMBERS OF THE (highly unofficial) ELIM GARAK FAN CLUB!!!!
I come with glad tidings!
ALT
[IMG ID: A tweet from @sidcityonline “Very excited about the news Andy shared with us today: @simonschuster listened to the fans and an audiobook of A STITCH IN TIME is in the works! [hand clap emoji] ” Below the tweet is a photo of a copy of A Stitch in Time by Andy Robinson with Elim Garak on the cover holding an orchid. END ID]
Andy comments on the audiobook in the 2nd half of this cameo, which I would embed if Tumblr didn’t break video reblogs 🙄:
sappho’s fragments but it’s just garak becoming more and more unglued at the thought of touching julian’s cheekbone and deleting his own unsent emails over and over again
ALT