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noelfieldingnoelfielding:

tupacabra:

liluminati:

toucans freak me out cus thats like THERI WHOEL MOUTH

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without it its just

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NYELLO

there will come a day when i will stop reblogging this, but today is not the day.

(Source: laptoplucifer, via fuckyeahloldemort)

birdchannel:

Cornell Lab Launches Interactive Website “All About Bird Biology”

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology has launched an interactive website that explores bird biology, called “All About Bird Biology.” The website provides custom art and videos, Powerpoint downloads of illustrations and animations (a great resource for teachers), as well as a video library that features 90-plus videos on birds.

Read more here.


Is this a real life bird school?

birdchannel:

Cornell Lab Launches Interactive Website “All About Bird Biology”

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology has launched an interactive website that explores bird biology, called “All About Bird Biology.” The website provides custom art and videos, Powerpoint downloads of illustrations and animations (a great resource for teachers), as well as a video library that features 90-plus videos on birds.

Read more here.

Is this a real life bird school?

(via pwnator)

(Source: misterwonka, via spiritsloth)

(Source: misterwonka, via spiritsloth)

zanetehaiden:

Brian was being nice to you, and this was weird, and weird was bad. Everyone was nice to you today. You woke up, bleary eyed and grumpy as always, but there were pancakes. Actual pancakes. Your parents haven’t made breakfast since summer, much less fucking pancakes. You asked your dad why there were fucking pancakes readily made this morning, and he just said, “Well, I just kinda felt like pancakes today, you know? I was up early anyway, and I thought it would just be a nice thing to do for you and your Mother.”
 This was not a good explanation. This was not a good explanation at all. God knows you’ve heard him complain enough about making coffee for her in the morning, much less a full course meal with ingredients we were supposed to be rationing and— is that apple juice? You looked at him again, and he just kind of smiled and sipped his coffee at the dinner table. The smile was the most off-putting thing, and something in it told you that you were less a person and more a thing to be pitied. Then your eyes flicked to the number above his head, steadily counting down.
 Thirty-three years, eighty-seven days, ten hours, eighteen minutes, and fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven…. That was how long until he kicked the can, or, in laymans terms, died. He would die at that exact moment in the far future, and everyone who saw him knew about it. Of course, nobody was a big enough prick to tell him. Nobody was a big enough prick to tell anybody, because it was the exact same for everyone else. For your mother it was twenty-eight something years, and for almost everyone in your school it was sixty or seventy, with one fucker up to eighty. The only one whom you didn’t know the date of death for was yourself, and that kind of made you pretty paranoid.
 Especially when this kind of stuff happened. When your mom woke up, she hugged you and kissed you on the forehead and called you sweetie like it was the first day of school, and when she drove you to school she let you choose the radio station. When you got there, someone you didn’t know opened the door for you. A boy. A cute boy. You looked at him awkwardly, but he just smiled and said something sort of like a greeting. You said something sort of like a greeting to him too. You walked past him and into the school and looked back, and he was looking at you. You looked around, and other people were looking at you, but they looked away when you looked at them. Something inside your chest felt like it was trying to break out, and the hallways suddenly seemed a million degrees hotter with dozens of pairs of eyes burning into you, so you decided to get to homeroom.
 Homeroom was hell, your teacher was a bitch, but she was smiling. She complimented your outfit for the day (a hoodie and some blue jeans) and asked how you were feeling. You said alright. She said good. You silently wondered why she would give a single solitary fuck about any of that, and sat down with a little voice in the back of your head screaming out an answer you hoped was incorrect. As a girl who’d told you to slit your wrists in seventh grade came over to talk to you, that little voice grew louder. You really wished people would stop fucking smiling at you.
 “What’s up Noam the Gnome, anything been happening lately?” she asked semi-enthusiastically, like someone who’s parents are making her talk to the kid with no friends. You wished she wouldn’t say your name like that, its enough of a joke as is, even if you hadn’t turned out to be barely five feet tall. You shrugged and put one headphone in. “Cool, cool,” she said, continuing, “a couple of girls and I were wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today, seeing as we share a couple classes but don’t really know you too terribly well.”
 “You didn’t care before. Why do you care now?” you said, looking past her head at her clock. Sixty more years. Damn.
 She said “no reason” a bit too quickly for your liking, but at least she left you alone after that. You didn’t have anything against her personally, you were just in a bad mood today, even more than usual, and you knew she wasn’t being genuine but you didn’t know why. People didn’t just randomly start being nice, that’s not how things worked.
 The bell rang, you went to your first class, and everyone continued to stare. You hadn’t done the homework for last night, but the teacher didn’t take it up anyway so at least that was good. When you raised your hand to ask if you could get a drink of water, your teacher smiled sweetly and said of course, but when you peeked through the door there wasn’t a face in sight not sporting a grim visage. The little voice was booming now. You re-entered the room, and everyone went back to smiling.
 Second, and third blocks were the same, but in fourth block there happened to be this guy named Brian. Brian was like the boy who had held the door open for you in that he was cute, the main difference being his constant sweetness and the fact that if given the chance you’d ride him like a fucking carousel. He was a boy with black hair and green eyes and a jawline set in stone and arms that looked quite nice in that well fitted shirt he was wearing. The best thing about him was the look on his face he got when he talked about things he was passionate about, like penguins. He’d once told you that when he was little he wanted to grow up to be a penguin and live in the Antarctic and give all the other penguins blankets and ear muffs, and you almost slammed him on the desk right then and there.
 That day, he sat close to you and talked to you. Not just idle chit chat either, like actual talking. It made your insides feel strange, but in a good way. He asked if you wanted to hang out after school, and you said sure. You asked your parents if it was alright, and they said sure. You almost forgot about being paranoid in that hour and a half, but then you glanced up at his and saw eighty years, and couldn’t help but think it would be eighty years spent without you.
 Whatever. You half convinced yourself you didn’t care as you walked home with him. He skipped along like a massive dork, and smiled genuinely, and you couldn’t help but smile too. His house wasn’t that far away, but he took a long and winding path through a steel jungle near the school, climbing on the various scrap heaps and balancing on the muzzle of an old tank. You told him to get down, but he just recited one of the various bullshitty speeches from your history books that some old fucker or another had said about never surrendering. He saluted, a silly look on his face, and you both laughed as he hopped down. You ended up laying together on the roof of a rusted auto, his hand kind of close to yours, and you joked about various things and such.
 You don’t really remember how, but he ended up on top of you, a weird sort of half smile on his face and what looked sort of like admiration in his eyes. It might’ve been admiration, but you only had a few seconds to look before his face became very, very close to yours.
 And thats how it went for about an hour before you actually bothered to close the difference between his house and you to none, but of course by then you were quite flustered. You met his parents, and they were nice. You played video games and beat him badly, but you’re fairly sure he let you win. You both went for another walk, and it ended up about like the first one, on the roof of an auto with lips going places and hands going others.
 When he said goodbye, it sounded final, and you tried not to break down crying. You failed, but at least it was when he wasn’t there. You sat on a bench and looked at the stars, and wondered what their numbers were. You didn’t bother for too long, you knew that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the amount of time even if you could see it. But you couldn’t, and for that single moment the sky seemed like a mirror. It was only a moment though, for the next an out of control auto swerved off the road and flipped onto you, crushing every single bone in your body and killing you almost instantly. In your last moment, you didn’t think about anything poetic like the feel of his lips on yours or the frailty of life or anything like that, but the brief though of fuck, I was right, did cross your mind.
—-
So this thought occurred to me earlier and I decided to actually write it. Feedback is appreciated.

zanetehaiden:

Brian was being nice to you, and this was weird, and weird was bad. Everyone was nice to you today. You woke up, bleary eyed and grumpy as always, but there were pancakes. Actual pancakes. Your parents haven’t made breakfast since summer, much less fucking pancakes. You asked your dad why there were fucking pancakes readily made this morning, and he just said, “Well, I just kinda felt like pancakes today, you know? I was up early anyway, and I thought it would just be a nice thing to do for you and your Mother.”

This was not a good explanation. This was not a good explanation at all. God knows you’ve heard him complain enough about making coffee for her in the morning, much less a full course meal with ingredients we were supposed to be rationing and— is that apple juice? You looked at him again, and he just kind of smiled and sipped his coffee at the dinner table. The smile was the most off-putting thing, and something in it told you that you were less a person and more a thing to be pitied. Then your eyes flicked to the number above his head, steadily counting down.

Thirty-three years, eighty-seven days, ten hours, eighteen minutes, and fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven…. That was how long until he kicked the can, or, in laymans terms, died. He would die at that exact moment in the far future, and everyone who saw him knew about it. Of course, nobody was a big enough prick to tell him. Nobody was a big enough prick to tell anybody, because it was the exact same for everyone else. For your mother it was twenty-eight something years, and for almost everyone in your school it was sixty or seventy, with one fucker up to eighty. The only one whom you didn’t know the date of death for was yourself, and that kind of made you pretty paranoid.

Especially when this kind of stuff happened. When your mom woke up, she hugged you and kissed you on the forehead and called you sweetie like it was the first day of school, and when she drove you to school she let you choose the radio station. When you got there, someone you didn’t know opened the door for you. A boy. A cute boy. You looked at him awkwardly, but he just smiled and said something sort of like a greeting. You said something sort of like a greeting to him too. You walked past him and into the school and looked back, and he was looking at you. You looked around, and other people were looking at you, but they looked away when you looked at them. Something inside your chest felt like it was trying to break out, and the hallways suddenly seemed a million degrees hotter with dozens of pairs of eyes burning into you, so you decided to get to homeroom.

Homeroom was hell, your teacher was a bitch, but she was smiling. She complimented your outfit for the day (a hoodie and some blue jeans) and asked how you were feeling. You said alright. She said good. You silently wondered why she would give a single solitary fuck about any of that, and sat down with a little voice in the back of your head screaming out an answer you hoped was incorrect. As a girl who’d told you to slit your wrists in seventh grade came over to talk to you, that little voice grew louder. You really wished people would stop fucking smiling at you.

“What’s up Noam the Gnome, anything been happening lately?” she asked semi-enthusiastically, like someone who’s parents are making her talk to the kid with no friends. You wished she wouldn’t say your name like that, its enough of a joke as is, even if you hadn’t turned out to be barely five feet tall. You shrugged and put one headphone in. “Cool, cool,” she said, continuing, “a couple of girls and I were wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today, seeing as we share a couple classes but don’t really know you too terribly well.”

“You didn’t care before. Why do you care now?” you said, looking past her head at her clock. Sixty more years. Damn.

She said “no reason” a bit too quickly for your liking, but at least she left you alone after that. You didn’t have anything against her personally, you were just in a bad mood today, even more than usual, and you knew she wasn’t being genuine but you didn’t know why. People didn’t just randomly start being nice, that’s not how things worked.

The bell rang, you went to your first class, and everyone continued to stare. You hadn’t done the homework for last night, but the teacher didn’t take it up anyway so at least that was good. When you raised your hand to ask if you could get a drink of water, your teacher smiled sweetly and said of course, but when you peeked through the door there wasn’t a face in sight not sporting a grim visage. The little voice was booming now. You re-entered the room, and everyone went back to smiling.

Second, and third blocks were the same, but in fourth block there happened to be this guy named Brian. Brian was like the boy who had held the door open for you in that he was cute, the main difference being his constant sweetness and the fact that if given the chance you’d ride him like a fucking carousel. He was a boy with black hair and green eyes and a jawline set in stone and arms that looked quite nice in that well fitted shirt he was wearing. The best thing about him was the look on his face he got when he talked about things he was passionate about, like penguins. He’d once told you that when he was little he wanted to grow up to be a penguin and live in the Antarctic and give all the other penguins blankets and ear muffs, and you almost slammed him on the desk right then and there.

That day, he sat close to you and talked to you. Not just idle chit chat either, like actual talking. It made your insides feel strange, but in a good way. He asked if you wanted to hang out after school, and you said sure. You asked your parents if it was alright, and they said sure. You almost forgot about being paranoid in that hour and a half, but then you glanced up at his and saw eighty years, and couldn’t help but think it would be eighty years spent without you.

Whatever. You half convinced yourself you didn’t care as you walked home with him. He skipped along like a massive dork, and smiled genuinely, and you couldn’t help but smile too. His house wasn’t that far away, but he took a long and winding path through a steel jungle near the school, climbing on the various scrap heaps and balancing on the muzzle of an old tank. You told him to get down, but he just recited one of the various bullshitty speeches from your history books that some old fucker or another had said about never surrendering. He saluted, a silly look on his face, and you both laughed as he hopped down. You ended up laying together on the roof of a rusted auto, his hand kind of close to yours, and you joked about various things and such.

You don’t really remember how, but he ended up on top of you, a weird sort of half smile on his face and what looked sort of like admiration in his eyes. It might’ve been admiration, but you only had a few seconds to look before his face became very, very close to yours.

And thats how it went for about an hour before you actually bothered to close the difference between his house and you to none, but of course by then you were quite flustered. You met his parents, and they were nice. You played video games and beat him badly, but you’re fairly sure he let you win. You both went for another walk, and it ended up about like the first one, on the roof of an auto with lips going places and hands going others.

When he said goodbye, it sounded final, and you tried not to break down crying. You failed, but at least it was when he wasn’t there. You sat on a bench and looked at the stars, and wondered what their numbers were. You didn’t bother for too long, you knew that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend the amount of time even if you could see it. But you couldn’t, and for that single moment the sky seemed like a mirror. It was only a moment though, for the next an out of control auto swerved off the road and flipped onto you, crushing every single bone in your body and killing you almost instantly. In your last moment, you didn’t think about anything poetic like the feel of his lips on yours or the frailty of life or anything like that, but the brief though of fuck, I was right, did cross your mind.

—-

So this thought occurred to me earlier and I decided to actually write it. Feedback is appreciated.

ladyastolat:

sixpenceee:

Hey! Made a compilation of the darkest corners of the internet.
Dionaea House: a horrifying story, told through two guys mail conversation, about a haunted house
Page of Ted: another haunting story about a man’s experience in an uncharted cave
Castle of Spirits: a website with ghost stories, experiences and pictures. my mom banned me from going here because I used to freak myself out as a kid from this website
Deep Cave: A man breaks scuba depth world record and finds the body of the last man to attempt it while down there. He makes plans to recover the body, but dies during the attempt. This is his website, as he left it, before he went on his last dive.
Reborn Baby Dolls: where you can buy dolls that look EXACTLY and feel EXACTLY like a newborn baby
Find a Grave: a website where you can find the graves of ancestors or famous people, create virtual memorials, add ‘virtual flowers’ and a note to a loved one’s grave
This Man: a website about 1000’s of people all over the world, dreaming of the same man. Some say he’s the devil some say he’s god. 
Exit Mundi: a collection of end of the world scenario’s
Haunted House: where you can find any haunted house in the U.S
Truthism: an extremely wacko cult website about how reptilian aliens are responsible for everything wrong, how humanity is controlled by aliens and how the sun is a cube and that the inner Earth exists
The Jonestown Mass Suicide Death Tape: Trigger warning and you know why
Shaye Saint John: The story/myths behind Shaye Saint John is that she was a hot woman who was horribly disfigured in a car accident. As a result, she appears in public wearing this creepy mask, and hobbles along with prosthetic legs and hands. This is her website
SCP Foundation: collection of fictional works that its members contribute that deal with the “paranormal”. They range all the way from a television working without a broadcasting station, to deadly creatures that have never been encountered
Blog of Joseph E. Duncan: sentenced to death by a federal jury on August 27, 2008 for the kidnapping, of Dylan and Shasta Groene and murder of Dylan. He had been convicted of a sex crime years before. Go back to the beginning and read forward. You can trace his further descent into madness.
Annie96 is typing: a creepy chat between two teenagers that has a horrific twist at the end
Alright, I hope you enjoy. Maybe look through these one day at a sleep over with some friends. That would be fun.
And don’t worry. NONE of these are screamers. I wouldn’t do that. 
Speaking of sleepovers, here’s a masterpost of creepy sleep-over games

I knew about SCP, the rest I’ll have to come back to later on. :)

ladyastolat:

sixpenceee:

Hey! Made a compilation of the darkest corners of the internet.

  • Dionaea House: a horrifying story, told through two guys mail conversation, about a haunted house
  • Page of Tedanother haunting story about a man’s experience in an uncharted cave
  • Castle of Spirits: a website with ghost stories, experiences and pictures. my mom banned me from going here because I used to freak myself out as a kid from this website
  • Deep Cave:man breaks scuba depth world record and finds the body of the last man to attempt it while down there. He makes plans to recover the body, but dies during the attempt. This is his website, as he left it, before he went on his last dive.
  • Reborn Baby Dolls: where you can buy dolls that look EXACTLY and feel EXACTLY like a newborn baby
  • Find a Gravea website where you can find the graves of ancestors or famous people, create virtual memorials, add ‘virtual flowers’ and a note to a loved one’s grave
  • This Man: a website about 1000’s of people all over the world, dreaming of the same man. Some say he’s the devil some say he’s god. 
  • Exit Mundi: a collection of end of the world scenario’s
  • Haunted Housewhere you can find any haunted house in the U.S
  • Truthism: an extremely wacko cult website about how reptilian aliens are responsible for everything wrong, how humanity is controlled by aliens and how the sun is a cube and that the inner Earth exists
  • The Jonestown Mass Suicide Death Tape: Trigger warning and you know why
  • Shaye Saint JohnThe story/myths behind Shaye Saint John is that she was a hot woman who was horribly disfigured in a car accident. As a result, she appears in public wearing this creepy mask, and hobbles along with prosthetic legs and hands. This is her website
  • SCP Foundation: collection of fictional works that its members contribute that deal with the “paranormal”. They range all the way from a television working without a broadcasting station, to deadly creatures that have never been encountered
  • Blog of Joseph E. Duncansentenced to death by a federal jury on August 27, 2008 for the kidnapping, of Dylan and Shasta Groene and murder of Dylan. He had been convicted of a sex crime years before. Go back to the beginning and read forward. You can trace his further descent into madness.
  • Annie96 is typing: a creepy chat between two teenagers that has a horrific twist at the end

Alright, I hope you enjoy. Maybe look through these one day at a sleep over with some friends. That would be fun.

And don’t worry. NONE of these are screamers. I wouldn’t do that. 

Speaking of sleepovers, here’s a masterpost of creepy sleep-over games

I knew about SCP, the rest I’ll have to come back to later on. :)

(via memewhore)

*61

Spooterdootendale

idgafsometimes asked: Are we all just gonna ignore the episode of Pokemon where James comes out as gay? Season 1, Episode 10, about 18 minutes in, James says something along the lines of "it's moments like these when I consider going straight" with NO other context, nothing else said about it. What could it mean other than James being gay?

all-that-is-pokemon:

sweetvixenellie:

all-that-is-pokemon:

I’m not sure if I noticed this or not but for me I just assumed he was but people also like to ship him and Jesse together

I believe in this context going straight means giving up a life of crime and has nothing to do with sexuality.

Oh ok now I remember the episode lol I was like uhhh i don’t know if I remember that one but I do remember him saying something like that so maybe it’s true but I could not remember the context it was in at all

The context is team rocket is trying to steal pokemon from the cerulean city gym. Pikachu shocks the water which in turn shocks team rocket. While being electrocuted James says the line about going straight.

tramampoline:

hentaihotsprings:

oh fuck he getting it

this video is so good-hearted. this video has never failed to make me smile

(Source: flightcub, via memewhore)

riordam:

oscarsfordicaprio:

it feels like the screen actually shakes woahhhhhh

Please don’t tap the glass it frightens the bloggers

riordam:

oscarsfordicaprio:

it feels like the screen actually shakes woahhhhhh

Please don’t tap the glass it frightens the bloggers

(Source: wutscraicalackin, via hellokenzie)

(Source: tio-skrillex, via nigga-chan)