cricketcat9:

workfornow:

bogleech:

thebibliosphere:

thebibliosphere:

thebibliosphere:

thebibliosphere:

thebibliosphere:

thebibliosphere:

Mark the electrician has been here for five minutes and he’s already said “well that’s…weird” twice from the other room and frankly I’m afraid to ask.

It’s not good when skilled tradesman are standing in the middle of your room pinching the bridge if their nose, is it?

Mark just referred to the wiring in our bedroom as “creative” and “interesting”.

This is fine.

And now he’s taking apart the ceiling. I’m not worried, are any of you worried? I’m not, haha, it’s not like this house was previously owned by someone who would do something stupid like try to wire their house themselves…or store tins of varnish under the furnace behind a secret alcove…

Ha ha…

Ha.

Hm.

Fuck.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S NO NEUTRAL WIRES??!?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S GROUNDED INTO THE SCREWS HOLDING UP THE CEILING LIGHT???!?!!

I want to know more about this house

Ahh, it’s only money …

Seriously, having owned a few 60+ year old homes, it’s never simple to fix anything because even if what was done was ok under the building codes at the time it was installed  … it’s probably not any longer. I once bought a house with a “computer bedroom” – I realized when it was inspected pre-purchase it was the only room besides the kitchen (ALL the major appliances in the house – stove, fridge, water heater, washer & drier – lived in the kitchen) where the sockets were properly grounded, so it was the only room the previous owner plugged in his electronics. 

Look at it this way – your house hasn’t burned down yet. Now that you KNOW, of course, ya gotta make things safe®.  

The Creative House Renovations! I bought a house in Toronto… it had a nicely drywalled basement. EVERY light socket, outlet, switch, EVERYTHING was dry walled in. The flushing mechanism in the toilet tank was held together with a string. The living room was freshly painted white, AROUND the furniture. Oh, the memories!

deadcatwithaflamethrower:

widow-tracer:

hazoretspartyfavors:

eyesoftirnoch:

rhonas-indomitable:

hazoretspartyfavors:

rhonas-indomitable:

hazoretspartyfavors:

Yall I think I may have been cursed by a very muscular cat that lives outside

???

Okay I’m gonna tell yall the Legend of Buff Cat™

So we take care of a family of cats that live on our back porch basically. There’s Cat Stevens the mom, her four kittens, and Joe, a grey kitty that hangs out with them. We put food and water out every day and they come out and hang around and lounge and play and shit.

There’s a few other stray kitties that come in and bully them to get to the food. Big Head Cat, Tiger Kitty and Buff Cat. Buff Cat is the most RIPPED cat I have EVER seen. He’s all black and he has like a tiny white patch of fur on his chest. I only ever saw him ONCE until the other night when I heard cats fighting outside. Thinking it was my cat being a dick, I went to break it up, but he was upstairs and no where near the other cats. So I went downstairs and Buff Cat was there, by himself, sitting on top of the wooden fence and staring me down. It was creepy as SHIT. Like this cat has an ENERGY about him.

A few days after this incident my dad tells me he has a dream about my cat getting outside and then he looks out there and FUCKING SEES BUFF CAT STARING AT HIM. He has only seen this cat ONCE.

Anyways I go downstairs to get ready to walk to work at 7AM and I see him, again, just STARING at me, and manage to get a picture:

I swear to god I took this picture, BLINKED and he was gone. Like, looking at this picture makes me feel super wrong. I showed it to a friend and they told me I shouldn’t take pictures of Eldritch Beings.

So I JUST get finished telling this story to my good friends @maris-solstice and @foxcoloredcat and I decide I want to get a snack, so I walk downstairs and

THERE HE IS AGAIN IN THE SAME POSITION, STARING RIGHT AT ME. YOU’D THINK IT’S THE SAME PICTURE BUT THESE WERE, IN FACT, TAKEN 11 HOURS APART.

So there’s the story of how I am now cursed by a cat that is probably a demon or was probably at one time a person that was turned into a cat.

Oh my god thats so weird!

That reminds me of a cat i called Atilla the Hun who was a big mf and would linger by the pool during winter. He had like a mane of beige fluff around his neck

OP it sounds like you have a fairy.

The Cat Sìth (Scottish Gaelic: [kʰaht̪ ˈʃiː]) or Cat Sidhe (Irish: [kat̪ˠ ˈʃiː], Cat Sí in new orthography) is a fairy creature from Celtic mythology, said to resemble a large black cat with a white spot on its chest.

I would suggest appeasement.

HOLY SHIT

@deadcatwithaflamethrower cats gotta cat?

Just to be safe: don’t piss off the cat.

deadcatwithaflamethrower:

notesoftruth:

vibropulse:

deadmomjokes:

ash-of-the-loam:

costumersupportdept:

kynthaworld:

dragoneyes:

dawnthefairy:

ladypandacat:

abwatt:

thegreenwolf:

falsedetective:

falsedetective:

my grandparents have to lock their car doors when they go to sunday mass because people have been breaking in to unlocked cars and leaving entire piles of zucchini

i feel like i should’ve added more context when i posted this. my grandparents live in a rural area where farmers and casual gardeners alike are, at this point in the year, suddenly being hit with unexpectedly abundant zucchini crops. there aren’t just some random vandals leaving zucchinis in people’s cars for the hell of it, this is the work of some very exasperated, probably very elderly, folks who have more zucchini than they know what to do with

Yep. You can also expect to find a bag of zucchini on your porch.

My grandfather once found his neighbor stealing his tomatoes out of his garden at three in the morning. Red-handed, with a basket of the nearly-ripened ones.  He thought he was going to find gophers or something, but no, here’s Henry, taking his tomatoes. The best ones.

There was a long pause between them.

My grandfather (allegedly) said, “Henry… it’s OK.  You can take some tomatoes if you want them.”

Henry sighed in relief.

“But,” my grandfather said, “you have to take two zucchini for every tomato.”

There was another long silence.  “That’s a harsh bargain, John,” said Henry.  “But I accept.  I’ll tell Joe up the street, too.”

My grandfather said, “Tell Joe he needs to take three.”

a friend of my dad’s came by in the middle of the night, he seemed very nervous when my dad answered the door. he wouldn’t come inside but he leaned in and whispered to my dad in spanish, “i have some fresh grapes for you.” and then this happened:

the melon was a special bonus.

MY DREAM

A friend of mine lives in a rural area and he has been surrounded by zucchini for most of May, June, and July.

At one point he was so done with the whole zucchini madness that he came to classes actively begging people to “Please please please!! Take some my family’s damned zucchini!! I’ve been eating zucchini for weeks!! I’m going insane!!!”

Having grown up in a rural area and having come home to zucchini on the front step or in the mailbox, i find it highly amusing the OP had to clarify.  I’m sitting here nodding “yup.”

I have a friend with a garden in Oregon who literally made Zucchini Chocolate Chip Cookies and sent them to me in Indiana. I texted her back “I SEE WHAT YOU’RE DOING HERE”

I’m waiting for the day when someone will hear about my background in Botany and ask me for advice on what someone who’s just wanting to start exploring planting vegetables should try.

I know fuckall about gardening because my background is wild plants and not agriculture, but I’m gonna tell them

“Zucchini. Definitely try Zucchini. Just plant plenty of them and you’ll get a decent sized crop! They’re very rewarding to grow.”

It may be a bit of a long game, but I’ll enjoy their screams of despair from across the void as they realize that they will eat zucchini forever

This is NOT an exaggeration, guys. Zucchini (and most squashes, really) will outgrow you so fast. Let our tale be a caution– or an encouragement, whichever. You decide as you hear the story of Squish.

When we were so broke we had to choose between gas and store-bought-food (I think I was about 10?), we had a garden so we could eat regularly (we also had chickens and pigs and hunted, but that’s beside this point). One summer, we planted 6 rows of yellow squash and 6 rows of zucchini. Each row probably had 10, maybe 12 plants in it. We created this giant squash-block in our garden plot so it was all right there together in the middle, and the needier plants like tomatoes were on the outside of the whole plot. We thought we were clever, til the first crop started coming in.

The outside two rows of each squash, yellow and zucchini, were normal. High yield, of course (because squash), but standard size for both summer squash and Italian zucchini. The inner 8 rows, however, created this hybrid monstrosity that we called Squish. It was pretty– a nice swirly yellow and green combination that made it clear the squash and zucchini had interbred.

Squish became a living nightmare for us. Something about the hybridization caused them to forget how to stop growing, or at least how to grow at a normal rate because those suckers were longer than my dad’s forearm, and bigger around than my (albeit child-sized) thighs. They didn’t get all hard and nasty on the inside, either, for some reason, like most squash will at that size. And they just kept coming. I don’t even remember seeing that many flowers, but every day we were pulling upwards of 20lbs of Squish out of the garden, only for there to be more the next day, or sometimes by the end of the day if we harvested in the morning. I don’t know where they were hiding, but it was like some sort of squash portal had opened into our yard and started crapping out Frankenstein’s Squashes.

At first, it was great. We could eat all we wanted and not worry about rationing it. But the growing season in Arkansas is long, and we had incredible weather that summer, so those darn things kept alternating flowers and fruit. Pull off a few Squish, new flowers budded out, and they ripened super-fast in the heat. We were absolutely swimming in Squish, because they were so big that even gorging on them meant only 1 or 2 got eaten per meal. (I think I recall using a few particularly enormous ones as swords for a duel with my sister, if that says anything about their size. I cannot overemphasize how absolutely, heinously gigantic they were. You probably don’t believe me but I am not kidding. Those things were bigger than a newborn by several many inches and a couple pounds.)

We had (luckily) a big deep freezer, and someone gifted us a bunch of freezer ziploc bags, so we started chopping them up and freezing them as we pulled them off. We ran out of bags real fast, so we caved and bought a ton more. We filled that deep freezer near to bursting. It was probably 3-4 feet deep, (as I remember barely coming up to the edge of it), and at least 4-5 feet long, about 2.5 feet across, and we filled it to the top with Squish. And that’s while we’re eating fresh ones every day with dinner! But still more Squish came before the first frost, so we started packing the fridge. And my grandma’s freezer. And my grandma’s fridge. And feeding them to the pigs and chickens. And giving them away at church.

Do you realize how big a deal it is that people who were so broke that they had to choose between gas and the power bill were GIVING AWAY FOOD??? That’s how much gosh darn Squish we had. And little did I know, but apparently, my dad HATES squash. He only planted them because they were a cheap, quick source of food and my mom loved squashes. And he got stuck with the folly of his decisions. For over a year.

Yep. We had Squish in the freezer for over a year. Eating it regularly. It lasted for over a year. A family of 5, plus often feeding my grandmother, we ate off a single garden’s haul for over a year. Of just the Squish. I tell you, if we’d had a farmer’s market back then, that Squish could probably have single-handedly lifted us out of poverty. Well, maybe not, but you get the idea.

We never planted both again, probably because my dad would have combusted out of rage if he’d ever seen another Squish in his life. But man those were the days for thems of us what loved squash.

So survival tip: If you need an absolute crapton of food, plant you a row of yellow squash and a row of zucchini, and keep that pattern going for as many rows as you like. You too can drown in Squish and love it.

Oh wow.

@deadcatwithaflamethrower I’m both laughing, and wondering a) if you have any squash allergies and b) what the Maine growing season is like

omg the Zuchinni Tale got better

space-fey:

thatonelesbiangirl:

so I work at a library now and during training we were shown each section and how they’re organized bluh bluh normal stuff, until we got to the 680s and my boss sighed at this shelf nearly busting from the weight of a shit ton of yarn books. now you may be wondering “how much is a shit ton of yarn books exactly max???” well let’s just say it’s about 2 shelves worth crammed onto one.
so when we got to this area my supervisor looked at us new pages and said in the most serious voice, “if anyone EVER gives you book donations never EVER accept donations of yarn books. EVER.” and we all laughed but deep down in the pit of my stomach I knew that was not a joke.

fast forward to a month later (today) and my shift starts pretty normally, I’m casually chatting with my co worker about video games and sorting books in the workroom when this couple walk into our workroom with big boxes saying they wanted to donate some books. so my coworker nods and says something about just leaving them there and he’ll grab our manager. so they put down these boxes and leave. so my manager comes along exclaiming how nice it is to get such a big donation and so she walks to the boxes, opens them, and starts shouting “JAMES GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW JAMES IT HAPPENED AGAIN” and so now I’m interested and I walk over and it just looks like boxes filled to the brim with books until I see the books all had library stickers on them and all have the numbers 680. so james comes running over and sees them and drops to his knees and starts shaking his head.

so then we got the details. apparently all libraries in my city all have too many yarn books and since you can technically check out a book and return it to any library and they’ll just shelve it there, all libraries just try and get rid of the books by tricking other libraries into taking them in. ways of this happening is staff from one library checking out the maximum amount they can of yarn books and dropping books around another library, or just viciously shoving these books through our returns, and now this, and apparently it’s a full out war with war maps and planning sheets written inside these yarn books. so please for the love of god never donate yarn books to your local library

Ahhhhh I also work at a library and this applies to all craft books. The 700-760 section is ridiculous. Plus they tend to be weird shapes/sizes which makes the mess worse

foxyshadow:

neurodivergent-crow:

thecoldheartofspace:

so there’s this guy in three of my dance classes

and first off, I’m 5’7, 5’11 in dance shoes, 170 pounds, broad shoulders and big hips and not small in any dimension. For a ballroom dancer, this means a lot of time spent learning the men’s parts. Especially in lifts.

I’ve had years now of guys kinda just going “lol heck naw” when told to lift me. I don’t admit this part much, but it makes me want to sink into the ground and die when every other girl can be lifted, but I’m just too big.

So this guy, smaller than me and really cute, shows up at auditions and I see this girl across the room getting tossed about like the beautiful pixie she is, and apparently I looked a little wistful because this boy asked me if I liked lifts.

“Oh. I… Uh… I’ve never really done the girls part. I’m a little big, haha…” (laugh it off, as usual.)

He looked me dead in the eye and then picked me up like a movie princess, bounced me in the air a few times, and set me down effortlessly while telling me whoever refused to lift me before was just being a lazy wimp.

I seriously doubt this boy will ever really get how much that meant to me. But, holy cow. Some faith in humanity just got restored.

Magical Boy of Body Positivity

This is beautiful