Multifandom randomness and everything that piques my interest. Feel free to message me anytime!
I'm German, 21, currently in the UK.
Anonymously message me (3) things you want to know about me.
MY GIRLFRIEND IS FUCKING INSANE
No it would be instantaneous and then your body would float around those big colorful nebulas and you could get to other galaxies and maybe become part of a moon or get incinerated in a star or fall into a black hole.
You could become part of an asteroid and impact on a moon and your microscopic dust remains are scattered all over the crater.
You could become part of a star and undergo nuclear fission and turn into hydrogen and your body is a tiny fraction of the process of the star and you make light for the universe and then the star ages and your atoms get turned into iron and then the star goes supernova and you’re spewed across the universe as space dust.
You could land of a kind-of habitable planet and your DNA survives as you start to decompose and in a few million years the primitive life forms of your body become science’s greatest mystery for humankind.
You could be found by an alien civilization who’s also wondering ‘are we alone in the universe’ and suddenly they know they’re not because woah processed materials and tools and crazy-developed processing centers woah and then in a couple thousand years they make first contact because of the space-travelling cultural revolution your corpse prompted in their society and the humans of the future go ‘how did you get all these spaceships and junk’ and they reverently pull out your body and you are interred with great fanfare and people make you statues and holidays and stuff.
Your body could end up literally anywhere in the universe and you’d be the first human there because who said you had to be alive huh?
What is wrong with you
This is beautiful.
Andy playing with them one last time did me in..
Oh gosh I’ve just watched Toy Story 3 and now I’m crying like a giant baby. This is do not ok..
The Myth of the Disrupted Classroom
When I was a Junior in high school, my girlfriend was sent home from school for wearing inappropriate clothing. She was wearing layers of slips on top of each other that, together, broke no established rule of our dress code. She was told by our principal, formerly the principal of a parochial girl’s school, that her dress was more appropriate “for a garden party,” and therefore inappropriate for learning. She sat in the principal’s office and told the principal that she was being singled out because her clothes were weird, and because her clothes didn’t cost a lot of money. She was offered a sweater to cover her arms and go back to class. She refused. She got into her gold Cadillac and drove home for the day.
I married that girl. People should marry those kinds of girls when they find them, and if they can get those kinds of girls to fall for them.
Now I am a teacher. I went into teaching to, of all things, teach. I’m not sure I went into teaching to be a Teacher. Being a Teacher feels like teaching, plus all the other stuff. I learned a lot from great educators and mentors in my life. I remember hating most of my Teachers. I remember Teachers discussing the clothing of students and scoffing and “oh my god did you see”ing. I say I don’t care what kids wear. I remember Teachers talking about a disruption to learning.
I can’t tell you how much I don’t care what anyone wears to school.
I can’t tell you how few times I’ve ever seen clothing of any kind disrupt class in any way. In fact, let me say this: I have never seen clothing of any kind disrupt class in any way.
I’ve certainly seen disruption, pretty massive disruption, caused by enforcing dress codes. Students often, and understandably, react poorly to being told that clothes they have on or body parts they have make them inappropriate for school that day. There are melt-downs, to be sure, and indignation. There is yelling and arguing and many things that are massive disruptions to learning. Sometimes kids go home for the whole day, which is a whole lot of learning not happening.
I’ve seen administrators enter active classrooms, walk around the room sticking their heads under desks to look at the length of skirts and shorts. Really, in the real world, I’ve seen this. I’ve seen girls asked to stand up in front of classes, looked up and down and then told, “yeah, I guess you’re ok. Sit back down.” I’ve watched administrators leave, and then cared for embarrassed, shamed, angry students. I’ve seen whole hours and whole days of learning disrupted by enforcing dress codes, and that doesn’t take in to account the emotional damage done to students by a system that should be protecting them.
I’m certainly uncomfortable with the message we are sending. Kids are self-conscious enough. Girls especially have enough people commenting on how they look and holding them to an often impossible and moving target of appropriateness, attractiveness, and self expression. I don’t like the message of a school telling someone that the clothes they put on their own bodies made them a problem for the whole school they attend, so much so that they need to go home, or cover up. So much so that they need to feel shame. Shame disrupts learning more than skirts. I promise.
We’re more comfortable confronting the girl wearing the thing, and not the boys who say the things about her. We are comfortable putting the blame for the actions of boys onto the girls around them.
We are no one to say what is right or wrong, appropriate or not. We are no one to say how kids should act or dress or what jobs they should wish for or what friends they should have. We should give them all the information we have, any information that will help keep them safe and successful and sane, and then we should let them make their own choices.
Schools are not moral authorities. When we create judgement calls about things like appropriate or not, acceptable or not, we leave room for each teacher and administrator to judge a student against their own moral code. When we enforce dress codes, we leave room for every staff member to address students that make them feel uncomfortable.
To be honest, I’m not sure why we act as authorities at all. As a school, we offer something so precious and so valuable. We offer the skills and ideas, we offer a path to success. So why do we spend so much time tracking tardies, enforcing behavior and dress codes, demanding silence and a level of respect that is reverential at best and fear-based at worst.
Anyone who knows enough teenagers knows that the more rules you give them that don’t make sense, the happier they will be doing the opposite of what you tell them. The more you shake your head and act stern, the more they will see you as someone to disobey.
We have this phenomenal power as teachers, as workers in schools. We control this massive amount of time students are required to be with us. We control their grades, their access to opportunities, the experience of many years of their lives. We control great portions of their self image, of their confidence, of their skill levels.
We don’t need to grab any more power than we already have. We don’t need to feel like we have to control every single thing to maintain the power we already have. We have important things to do all day. We don’t need to spend time on other stuff.
Out of all the teachers I have ever had, this man has always been my favorite.
"Also known as the ghost plant, Indian pipe, or corpse plant.
Unlike most plants, it is white and does not contain chlorophyll. Instead of generating energy from sunlight, it is parasitic, more specifically a myco-heterotroph. Its hosts are certain fungi that are mycorrhizal with trees, meaning it ultimately gets its energy from photosynthetic trees. Since it is not dependent on sunlight to grow, it can grow in very dark environments as in the understory of dense forest. It is often associated with beech trees.
The complex relationship that allows this plant to grow also makes propagation difficult.
The plant is sometimes completely white but commonly has black flecks and a pale pink coloration. Rare variants may have a deep red color.”
GUYS I LOVE INDIAN PIPE PAY ATTENTION TO THIS POST I LOSE MY SHIT WHENEVER I SEE ONE OF THESE WILD
Where are they common??
This is too good not to share… The Avengers meet The Breakfast Club… you’re welcome.
I don’t even know…
Tumblr, please stop sending me emails telling me what’s happening right now on Tumblr.
I know what’s happening right now on Tumblr.
I never leave.
Seriously though, can you stop them somehow??
And why cant they atleast to stuff you already follow and track?
Someone help me.
I feel like I’m about to commit murder.
Best thing ever.
It’s like watching the Matrix, but with kittens.
OMG! This is awesome.
I’m shocked. There’s nail polish on my nails O_O
so… you woke up and someone had made you trendy or…?
Nope found it in the house and randomly painted my nails?!!
I NEVER paint my nails and am a man 85% of the time?