sirderpington: SO I WENT TO GO LOG IN AND I'M SO DONE RIGHT...
SO I WENT TO GO LOG IN AND I'M SO DONE RIGHT NOW
gratuitousabs: whataboutthemenses: blackamazon: facebooksexism...
The mayor of Mississauga, Canada is a badass. via
Hazel McCallion, everbody.
92 years old,
34 years in office,
$0 in debt
$700 million in reserve
Eight prime ministers
One truck.
But women aren't strong leaders… OH WAIT.
Now I'm sure somebody's gonna tell me something but
- supports a Palestinian state
- supports Aids CHarities
- told her city well if we cant get money y'all need to pay taxes and maintains a 76 approval rating
- nick named Hurricane Hazel
- and is so boss lady that she don't run she' tells folks to give that money to charity
I will always reblog this lady.
That's the major for the city I used to live in!
She's cool.
starksexual: i was at the bus stop with my sister the other day and for no apparent reason, she...
i was at the bus stop with my sister the other day and for no apparent reason, she says: 'dude, there are more dead people in the world than living people' and the woman standing beside me whispered 'holy shit' and i fucking lost it
shannahmcgill: ladytabularasa: dramaddict: one guacamole is equal to 6.0221415×10²³ guacas SO...
one guacamole is equal to 6.0221415×10²³ guacas
SO DONE WITH THIS WEBSITE
I only make my guacamole out of the freshest Avogadros.
I was at Target today and I was stroking the cover of Supernatural for no reason and a lady who worked there walked up to me
Person: so you like Supernatural?Me: I LOVE Supernatural.
Person: no one loves it as much as me.
Me: I'm sorry, it sounded like you just challenged my loyalty to a fandom. Wanna repeat that?
Person: Well, how do you kill a vampire? Stake to the heart or silver?
Me: neither. You cut their head off.
Person: *arms start flailing and she hugs me*
metallikato: We Californians be like "Excuse me but your shirt...
We Californians be like
"Excuse me but your shirt is fucking gorgeous"
"Wow thank you very much! My nanna fucking knitted it for me!"
"So fucking fetch"
richard-sp8-jr: when i was in kindergarten i had this babysitter who cooked the best steak i'd ever...
when i was in kindergarten i had this babysitter who cooked the best steak i'd ever had and i'd always ask what it was and she said "people" every time and i'd laugh and ask what it really was and she'd just reply "people" and i found out in first grade that she got arrested and was sentenced to 50 years-life in prison
and that's the story about how my babysitter was basically hannibal lecter and i was will graham for a whole year
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instagram.com/bryanteslava
instagram.com/bryanteslava
instagram.com/bryanteslava
instagram.com/bryanteslava
macabrekawaii: dualscar: captainexposition: shermansgallifreya...
Look, I made a gif of this most awesome wizard at the Leaky Cauldron!
DUDE IS READING 'A BRIEF HISTORY OF TIME' BY STEPHEN HAWKING
I NEVER REALIZED
are you serious
I always assumed wizards just ignored science, because the fact that "magic" exists, can explain anything. But there are MuggleBorn wizards, ones who, until they were eleven, lived in the real world and learned science and things. Did they all just abandon that normal, muggle knowledge, like Harry did? It's always been there, itching in the back of my mind.
FOUR FOR YOU SCIENCE WIZARD
YOU GO SCIENCE WIZARD
can we point out that he's doing wandless magic too
like voldemort couldnt even do that shit
molly fuckin weasley couldnt fuckin do that
who are you
Quick, somebody write a book series about the adventures of Magic Prodigy Science Wizard!!!
PLEASE SOMEONE JUST DO IT
Alan Baker had no use for wands, of course. If one were to Prior Incantato his outdated, duct-taped rod of walnut wood and dragon heartstring, its most recent use would have been the enchantment of the long-lived neurons in Alan's own mind. This enchantment, possible only for those who were capable of seeing themselves as a complex amalgamation of neural impulses, allowed him to bypass both wands and words. Alan did this, not for show, not for power, but because wandwork distracted him from his reading.
Unfortunately, there was no legal spell to get rid of barflies.
"Hey- hey mate, you gotta- gotta minute to-"
Sobrius, Alan thought, placing one hand on his neighbor's forehead without looking up. He pondered whether or not to cast a silencing barrier, even in violation of the Leaky Cauldron's safety code.
"Thanks," said the now-sober man, "Readin' more of that Muggle trash, I see."
Alan closed his eyes and counted to three, but when he opened them, the man was still there. Alan lowered his "muggle trash" in defeat, meeting the baggy, bloodshot eyes of the wizard sitting across from him.
Alan leaned forward, placing his hands steeple-like on the table. "Mr. Fletcher, do you know why time turners don't send you into space?"
"The sky, y'mean? Cause they're fer time turnin', not apparation."
Alan had to take a deep breath. "No," he replied, "If time turners weren't anchored to anything, the Earth's rotation alone would be enough to ensure a time traveler's demise. But someone at the ministry was clever enough to anchor them to a carefully guarded object that never moves relative to the Earth."
"Fascinat'n," slurred Mundungus, whose eyes had glazed over once it became clear that Alan didn't actually have a time turner on him.
"But time turners are still very limited," continued Alan, more to himself than to Mundungus, "They can't go more than seven hours back, and not forward at all, and only in increments of one hour, and they only work on Earth… no, they're very clumsy, if one truly pauses to think about it."
"What's yer point?"
"My point is that while wizards are slowly stagnating in their backwards remnant of the Dark Ages, Muggles are making progress, ever reaching for the light. Do you know that they don't need magic to craft a hand of living silver?"
"Bah," was Mundungus's only reply, "You'd be best mates with that Weasley nutcase at the ministry, you would."
Alan stood up, silently casting an infantes gelata to check for paradoxes. "I don't know why I bother with you," he sighed, "you've just wasted another two minutes of my time. Perhaps I bother because I have time to waste."
And he twisted, as if to apparate, but instead faded out of existence with a distinct vworp. The air swirled in the wake of his departure, blowing back Mundungus's straggly ginger hair.
"Muggleborns," the short wizard muttered, then turned back to his drink.
••••••••
Thirty minutes earlier, Alan lounged contentedly within his quieting barrier, stirring his cup of tea absently and rereading one of his favourite Muggle books. He wondered, vaguely, which planet held the nearest sapient life, and what their magic would look like…
This rereading, however, would be slightly shorter than the last. Even within the barrier, the presence of another at the table tickled at Alan's consciousness. He set down his book (rather forcefully, he had to admit,) and looked up. The bloodshot eyes of Mundungus Fletcher didn't meet him when his own rose.
"Hello," mouthed the man. Finite Incantatum, thought Alan.
"Hello," he answered, "Can I help you?"
"No, not really. Well, maybe. Well, probably. Have you seen anything strange lately? Disappearing cats, people moving backwards, variances in the time vortex causing precise and intentional reversal of the course of events?"
Alan couldn't help but stare. "Er…now that you mention it, I was just…" he trailed off as he glanced out the window and did a double take. There was a 1960s-style Muggle police telephone box in the middle of Diagon Alley. "…Is…is that a telephone box?"
"No. Yes. Recreation. Mock-up. Don't worry, nobody will notice," the man said, waving his hand dismissively even as he pulled on a pair of what appeared to be cheap 3-D glasses. "What I want to know," he murmured conspiratorially, "is what's giving you that floaty, aurary, bizarrey stuff all over you, because that should not be happening to a human. Person. I said person"
Alan's eyebrows furrowed. "First of all, this is Diagon Alley. Most people out there wouldn't know a police box from a pillbox, especially given it's bright blue. Second of all, those glasses shouldn't give you the ability to see what you're seeing. And thirdly, Expelliarmus."
"Expelliwhat?" the man squawked, just as a long, chunky metallic object with a blue tip shot out of his jacket pocket and into Alan's hand. A quick Identification spell told him all he needed to know.
"Fuzzy logic neural interface configured for ease of use, limited nonverbal manipulation of mechanical and electronic objects…Interesting. And leaps and bounds beyond anything wizards or Muggles can conjure up. What are you?"
The man stared at him for a few minutes before breaking out in a wide smile. "Hello. I'm the Doctor. Let me tell you a little bit about the universe…"
IT GOT BETTER
I am done, this is the end of the world, it's all downhill from here
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Hey Valjean
That's a nice jacket you've got there.
I wonder what color it is.
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nationalpost: Thought-controlled helicopter shows potential of...
Thought-controlled helicopter shows potential of brain-powered devices
University of Minnesota researchers have been able to control a small helicopter using only their minds, pushing the potential of a technology that could be used to help paralyzed or motion-impaired people interact with the world around them.
The controls for the mini-vehicle, which looks and flies much like any remote controlled helicopter, are otherwise fairly simple: if you want it to go up, think about it going up. If you want it to go down, think about it going down.
There have been other brain controlled devices before, but the project created by Professor Bin He's team offers extremely smooth control — and doesn't require drilling holes in your head.
"It's completely non-invasive. Nobody has to have a chip implanted in their head!" said Brad Edelman a graduate student working on the project. (University of Minnesota)
holy snap….if you had a random thought, you could potentially injure/kill yourself/other people. heh i'm so negative
unhistorical: June 6, 1944: The Allied invasion of Normandy...
June 6, 1944: The Allied invasion of Normandy begins.
In June of 1940, Nazi Germany successfully completed its invasion of France with the signing of an armistice at Compiègne, which divided France into two zones - one which was to be henceforth occupied by German troops, and a "free zone", to be administered by a French government at Vichy. In late 1942 German-Italian forces carried out a complete military occupation of the free zone. By 1944 much of Europe was either occupied by Axis forces or controlled by direct allies; between the neutral Iberian Peninsula to the Eastern Front, France, Greece, the Baltics, the Netherlands, and Denmark were among the states occupied by German or Axis forces. Along the western coast of Europe, Germany established a system of fortifications collectively known as the "Atlantic Wall", whose construction began in 1942 to thwart an Allied invasion launched across the English Channel from Great Britain.
The landing of Allied forces at Normandy on June 6, 1944 (commonly known as D-Day) marked the beginning of Operation Overlord and the beginning of the liberation of mainland Europe from its occupation by Nazi Germany. As Supreme Allied Commander in Europe, Dwight D. Eisenhower was charged with planning and carrying out the beach landing assault, an enormous and momentous task - in the end, approximately 160,000 troops participated in the assault on an 80 km long stretch of Normandy coast, which was divided into five sectors: Gold, Utah, Sword, Juno, and Omaha, the link between the U.S. and British sectors, the most easily defensible beach, and the area where fighting was bloodiest. The troops were supported by a fleet of nearly 7,000 vessels, directed mostly by the Royal Navy; airborne operations were also a key element of the landings, with at least 13,000 paratroopers taking part. To mislead and confound Axis military leaders regarding the true date and location of the impending assault, the Allies implemented Operation Bodyguard.
The enormously successful operation was a decisive victory for the Allied powers and a major blow to Germany's psyche and morale. Operation Overlord came to an end with the destruction of German forces at the Falaise Pocket in August of 1944 and the liberation of Paris days later.
lovesolitudes: i actually feed on intelligence i love it when people know a lot about a lot of...
i actually feed on intelligence
i love it when people know a lot about a lot of things
about music, films, religion, beliefs, history
i love listening to peoples opinions
i love big words
i want to suck in all these smart things like a sponge
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klartie: costanzastan: jacobfuckedme: klartie fucking hell my dad was carving the chicken for...
fucking hell my dad was carving the chicken for dinner and all of a sudden i just hear him manically giggling to himself so i fucking go into the kitchen and this is what i fucking find
jesus christ dad what the fuck
except no.
with the fake text posts lbr we kno u decapitated a bratz doll for the sad, sad purpose of this post
"COME HERE YOU FUCKING TWAT YOU CALL THAT RISOTTO!"
"COME HERE YOU FUCKING TWAT YOU CALL THAT RISOTTO!"- Gordon Ramsay (via aweirdspeciesofbeauty)
distraction: heart: treasure: gnarly: comforting: unimportant: collapsed: succeeding: quiet: ...
date:
with me
but no
me instead
down bitches
at this
with laughter
to me
like a hug
dudes
this post
to heart
is what this site is
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