The Patron Saint of Losing Sleep

Photo

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 15:11:14 -0400

Overly Honest Methods

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 14:47:55 -0400

As a grad student, and a scientist, I found these to be hysterical……and frighteningly accurate!!!!!

We would have done more tests substituting fructose in place of other sugars, but someone decided to use all the fructose in the lab to make cookies.

grnboost: THE BMW E9...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 12:23:58 -0400

grnboost:

THE BMW E9 CSL

I would so rock a custom 73 BMW 3.0 CSL if I had an unlimited...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 12:16:40 -0400

I would so rock a custom 73 BMW 3.0 CSL if I had an unlimited budget.

thesearetheupsides: SOTD: Home Grown - Tomorrow

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 08:03:28 -0400

thesearetheupsides:

SOTD:

Home Grown - Tomorrow

Audio

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 08:02:32 -0400

Photo

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 07:40:54 -0400

gallagh3r: Steriogram- Tsunami …. Theyre best known for the...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 01:10:31 -0400

gallagh3r:

Steriogram- Tsunami …. Theyre best known for the song Walkie Talkie Man but this is another gem from Schmack

Things I’ve forgotten about.

tonytoggles: fuck the gender binary Hey it’s...

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 01:08:07 -0400

tonytoggles:

fuck the gender binary

Hey it’s Tank Girl.

Photo

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 01:02:44 -0400

Photo

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 22:19:34 -0400

timelordinatrenchcoat: fun fact: jensen improvised that part

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 21:37:56 -0400

timelordinatrenchcoat:

fun fact: jensen improvised that part

Photo

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 18:39:16 -0400

Photo

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 13:30:46 -0400

Photo

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 13:21:51 -0400

It always seems that the memories of acquaintances that stick with you the longest are the ones who...

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 01:43:17 -0400

It always seems that the memories of acquaintances that stick with you the longest are the ones who turned out to be nothing like you thought. Those pensive looking souls, scowling permanently, whom you suspect are deep in thought, but find later to be empty up top; those eccentric, raggedy characters who seem to fly by the seat of their pants throughout college, apparent geniuses, only to out themselves as insane and insanely lucky in truth later on; and of course that one person you thought was a beacon of restraint and vestige of purity, only to find that they are the most out of control, hedonistic person you’ve ever met. All of those people were either a welcome or unwelcome rewrite of your viewpoints, but it was the surprise that made them stick. That novelty. I like to think that eventually we will run out of novelty. That somehow it will dry up in the next hundred years and our children, holding on to their last threads of mortality, will tell gathered toddlers and mud-covered children about a time when things were new, and no one could look just anything up, or remember it via digital file. They’ll tell the big glittery eyes staring them down that once the Internet was empty, and people took it upon themselves to fill it. One day, when every possible outcome of every possible action by anyone in history was finally catalogued via hyper-processor with a final profound and numbing click, the thinking was all finished for us, and our processors never cycled another predictive data stream. The only thing left to do was to forget everything we knew and ask the master almanac what was to become of us, and how to properly cook a chocolate soufflé should the occasion call for it. So considering the fact that we could instantly access all knowledge as a race now, negating the need for education, to fill our remaining time we relearned the art of storytelling. Recombining things in a way that fit our personalities. Unsurprising, of course, considering the fact that our actions and tastes were all calculated years ago, but still keeping the small ember of creativity alight for a time when we might be able to properly create again without the hindrance of data to tell us how every story will be told, over and over, in the same manner as the last, with the same archetypal characters in the same familiar settings.

spoookyscary: After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705,...

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 00:24:17 -0400

spoookyscary:

After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.

The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.

The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.

Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.

Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”

When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.

Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”

The kid.. did he do it? He got the powers of the Pirate King!

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 00:20:51 -0400

The kid.. did he do it? He got the powers of the Pirate King!

Photo

Sun, 16 Jun 2013 14:54:04 -0400

Photo

Sun, 16 Jun 2013 14:45:49 -0400