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the best pokemon professor is elm 100% he gets robbed by a 10 year old and his instinct isnt call the cops at first its call another 10 year old
to catch a horse you gotta think like a horse
Reblogged from:magicalgirlmindcrank
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Me when Sandra Bullock and Sarah Paulson turned out to be sisters and not lesbians:
same feeling HAHAHHAA
Reblogged from:daemonstrative
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Reblog for bountiful and relevant employment opportunities in 2019
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Reblogged from:
angrygargoyle
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No, wait you don’t understand.
That cat became an icon THIS MONTH AND IS STILL ONE.
that’s Jo-Pawveski, a stray who wandered onto the ice and past the nashville predators bench during round 2 of playoffs. They eventually picked her up and sent her to the humane society.
Here she is.
The SAN JOSE SHARKS won that game and attributed it to her, naming her after the Sharks captain: Joe Pavelski. When they found out she was a girl, they changed her name to Jo instead of Joe.
She became an instant good luck charm after that as the Sharks won every game at home that series and moved onto round three.
Since then, every game, they stack pucks and stick a idol to Jo for luck.
This little cat has had merchendise made out of her. She’s literally almost replaced SJ sharkie as maschot of the team.
I mean. I’m not making this up. I HAVE A RALLY TOWEL OF HER THEY GAVE OUT FOR GAME 1 OF THE 3RD ROUND. I OWN THIS FUCKING THING:
FURRIES HAVE BEEN SHOWING UP DRESS AS HER.
She had her own livestream to check in on her.
SHE’S IN THE PREGAME OPENING ANIMATION
And so I know what you’re gonna say here.
Well… what happened to Jo, though.
Good news, This week, as Sharks made their first Stanley Cup, Jo and another Kitty were adopted.
And that kids, is the story of JO PAWVELSKI.
The stray black cat of the San Jose Sharks.
I’m beaming with shark pride and I ain’t even that big into hockey
Didn’t a member of the team adopt her?
Yes! Patrick Marleau’s family adopted her so now she’s Jo Marleau :)
Reblogged from:ruby-white-rabbit
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im losing my mind….shes jus a lil baby…
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“villain attempts to go back in time to kill superman as a small child, gets shot in the face by ma kent, who buries him behind the barn with the others” would probably have niche appeal as a comic but i don’t care, i want it
The first time a man from the future showed up at Martha Kent’s house, Clark Kent was two years old.
According to his birth certificate, anyway. She just kind of accepted that the details were a little fudged. Relativity, and all.
Maybe the stranger would have succeeded in whatever it was he wanted to do, except that he really did just show up. Appeared, like a ghost made flesh, right in the backyard. Clark, thank goodness, was out in the fields with Jonathan. He couldn’t bear to be alone, that boy, and they could never bear to leave him.
Which left Martha free to shoot the ghostly intruder in the face.
Martha had not always considered herself a shoot first, ask questions later sort of a person. But that was before she found a baby in a spaceship where her corn was supposed to be.
They’d switch off, Jonathan and her, who got Clark and who got the shotgun. Martha got the shotgun more often than not. Guns made her husband uncomfortable. She was hardly a fan, but she’d always been a terrible pacifist. Too determined to defend herself.
The sight of all that blood and brain and bone was still nauseating. She compartmentalized, told herself it was no different from slaughtering a cow; didn’t think about riot gear or tear gas or the friends she’d lost or all the things she’d moved away from when her heart couldn’t take it any longer. This was different. This was her son.
She prodded the corpse with her foot. It remained a corpse. A real nasty looking corpse, all big and burly and holding a gun much too large. She didn’t like making assumptions based on appearances, but she didn’t imagine he’d been coming for anything nice. She bent down to search his pockets, found a metal wallet and flipped it open.
Born 2018.
Well, hell. Wasn’t that just a kick in the pants?
Probably she ought to have been a bit more unsettled than she was. But she’d been waiting two years for someone to show up on her doorstep, men in black or UFOs or something. Hell, she’d half expected her sweet little boy to hatch into something worse.
Just because she brought home space babies didn’t mean she was a damn fool.
Jonathan had rejoined her in long strides, was holding Clark in such a way that he couldn’t see the corpse on the ground. “Well, shit,” he said.
“Eyup,” Martha agreed.
“Don’t look government.”
“Nope.”
“We burying him?”
“I’ll bury him,” Martha said, standing up. “You get Clark inside and read him a book or something. I don’t want him seeing any of this, getting him messed up in the head.”
“You sure? Looks heavy.”
“That’s why we have a wheelbarrow. I’ll stick him out behind the barn, might as well keep all our secrets in one place.”
Martha had a long time to think as she dug a time traveler’s grave. There were a lot of reasons someone might travel back in time trying to kill her kid. The first was her instinct as a mother, which was: he was a fucking asshole. Who killed a kid? Fucking assholes, that was who.
Now, it was also possible that her sweet little boy grew up to be some kind of space Hitler. She didn’t think she’d raise that kind of a kid, but she didn’t suppose there was any parent who set out to raise a Hitler.
Still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t much like the idea of killing baby Hitler, either.
Reblogged from:unpretty
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“villain attempts to go back in time to kill superman as a small child, gets shot in the face by ma kent, who buries him behind the barn with the others” would probably have niche appeal as a comic but i don’t care, i want it
The first time a man from the future showed up at Martha Kent’s house, Clark Kent was two years old.
According to his birth certificate, anyway. She just kind of accepted that the details were a little fudged. Relativity, and all.
Maybe the stranger would have succeeded in whatever it was he wanted to do, except that he really did just show up. Appeared, like a ghost made flesh, right in the backyard. Clark, thank goodness, was out in the fields with Jonathan. He couldn’t bear to be alone, that boy, and they could never bear to leave him.
Which left Martha free to shoot the ghostly intruder in the face.
Martha had not always considered herself a shoot first, ask questions later sort of a person. But that was before she found a baby in a spaceship where her corn was supposed to be.
They’d switch off, Jonathan and her, who got Clark and who got the shotgun. Martha got the shotgun more often than not. Guns made her husband uncomfortable. She was hardly a fan, but she’d always been a terrible pacifist. Too determined to defend herself.
The sight of all that blood and brain and bone was still nauseating. She compartmentalized, told herself it was no different from slaughtering a cow; didn’t think about riot gear or tear gas or the friends she’d lost or all the things she’d moved away from when her heart couldn’t take it any longer. This was different. This was her son.
She prodded the corpse with her foot. It remained a corpse. A real nasty looking corpse, all big and burly and holding a gun much too large. She didn’t like making assumptions based on appearances, but she didn’t imagine he’d been coming for anything nice. She bent down to search his pockets, found a metal wallet and flipped it open.
Born 2018.
Well, hell. Wasn’t that just a kick in the pants?
Probably she ought to have been a bit more unsettled than she was. But she’d been waiting two years for someone to show up on her doorstep, men in black or UFOs or something. Hell, she’d half expected her sweet little boy to hatch into something worse.
Just because she brought home space babies didn’t mean she was a damn fool.
Jonathan had rejoined her in long strides, was holding Clark in such a way that he couldn’t see the corpse on the ground. “Well, shit,” he said.
“Eyup,” Martha agreed.
“Don’t look government.”
“Nope.”
“We burying him?”
“I’ll bury him,” Martha said, standing up. “You get Clark inside and read him a book or something. I don’t want him seeing any of this, getting him messed up in the head.”
“You sure? Looks heavy.”
“That’s why we have a wheelbarrow. I’ll stick him out behind the barn, might as well keep all our secrets in one place.”
Martha had a long time to think as she dug a time traveler’s grave. There were a lot of reasons someone might travel back in time trying to kill her kid. The first was her instinct as a mother, which was: he was a fucking asshole. Who killed a kid? Fucking assholes, that was who.
Now, it was also possible that her sweet little boy grew up to be some kind of space Hitler. She didn’t think she’d raise that kind of a kid, but she didn’t suppose there was any parent who set out to raise a Hitler.
Still didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t much like the idea of killing baby Hitler, either.
Reblogged from:shadsasaur
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Im gonna hold an egg in my mouth for 2 hours to challenge myself.
OGAHAGSIGf
here is my quick artists rendition.. it was a primal moment
Reblogged from:broliloquy
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Reblogged from:bumblybea
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Zoobooks is planning to create a scientifically accurate new series of dinosaur magazines, and is raising funds for the project on Kickstarter. The updated art will include dinos with feathers! Zoobooks was started in 1980 and publishes 10 animal-themed, amazingly-illustrated magazines for kids per year. They also publish two similar series’: Zoobies and Zootles, for younger children.
They did the thing and a year subscription is $5 at the moment.
Reblogged from:skidar
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Reblogged from:thebootydiaries
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Dogs have a much stronger sense of smell and smell makes up a huge part of taste but somehow that doesn’t stop him from eating deer shit
Reblogged from:showerthoughtsofficial
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Oh my god #bunblr you guys have to watch this!!! 😂
NOW THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE ADS!
OMG it’s the same person who read the “snek” one 😂
Who else has special terms for their buns? I call Shion’s nose a nosicle and the big buns have snoots.
Reblogged from:dadmight
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Hey instead of a Harry Potter world there should be a lord of the rings world where it’s super immersive and you’re given a sword when you enter the world and giant spiders chase you and the elf actors eat dirt and offer you some
can we befriend and/or flirt with the giant spiders asking for a friend
It’s you’re adventure you can do whatever you want but watch out!
HI, THIS EXISTS, IT’S CALLED EVERMORE PARK, IT’S IN PLEASANT GROVE, UTAH
it’s more of a DND park but it’s fantasy and characters give you quests and when you finish quests they give you a tarot card with the characters on it
The town functions as a real-time story with a plot and everybody has backstory and movie-quality makeup and shit
Guys I’ve been and it’s fucking unbelievable
Reblogged from: