shell-tear-your-world-apart:

endsofadream:

SOMEONE DO A DATE LIKE THIS WITH ME. I’LL EVEN LET YOU TOUCH THE BOOTY.

Now that’s how you get laid boys.

shell-tear-your-world-apart:

endsofadream:

SOMEONE DO A DATE LIKE THIS WITH ME. I’LL EVEN LET YOU TOUCH THE BOOTY.

Now that’s how you get laid boys.

90,259 notes

effyeahnerdfighters:

pizzajohn:

Hank and John, avert thine eyes.  The rest of you, delve a little deeper. 
We need your help.

Fill out this form, so that we can do something with the information.
(it shouldn’t take long, and it should turn out really well)

And that’s it.

Seriously.

Secret secrets! If y’all wanna get involved in a cool thing (and aren’t John or Hank), click that link!

1,406 notes

gerardcalmyourhands:

my biggest fear is someone asking me out as a joke like i have literally had this thought at the back of my mind since like 2nd grade and i am terrified

This has happened to me twice and it’s the only times i’ve been asked out so I’m pretty sure the first time it’s not a joke I’ll think it is and so i’ll be single forever bc of two stupid 8th and 9th grade boys. 

(Source: juniorband)

118,525 notes

azurelunatic:

virtualclutter:


Hair washing and care in the 19th century


Hair washing is something that almost every historical writer, romance or not, gets wrong. How many times have you read a story in which a heroine sinks gratefully into a sudsy tub of water and scrubs her hair–or, even worse, piles it up on her head to wash it? Or have you watched the BBC’s Manor House and other “historical reenactment” series, in which modern people invariably destroy their hair by washing using historical recipes?

Historical women kept their hair clean, but that doesn’t mean their hair was often directly washed. Those who had incredibly difficult to manage hair might employ a hairdresser to help them wash, cut, and singe (yes, singe!) their hair as often as once a month, but for most women, hair-washing was, at most, a seasonal activity.
“Why?” you might ask. “Wasn’t their hair lank, smelly, and nasty?”
And the writers who embrace ignorance as a badge of honor will say, “Well, that just goes to show that people used to be gross and dirty, and that’s why I never bother with that historical accuracy stuff!”
And then I have to restrain myself from hitting them…
The reason that hair was rarely washed has to do with the nature of soaps versus modern shampoos. Soaps are made from a lye base and are alkaline. Hair and shampoo are acidic. Washing hair in soap makes it very dry, brittle, and tangly. Men’s hair was shirt enough and cut often enough that using soap didn’t harm it too much and the natural oils from the scalp could re-moisturize it fairly easily after even the harshest treatment, but in an age when the average woman’s hair was down to her waist, soap could literally destroy a woman’s head of hair in fairly short order.
Instead, indirect methods of hair-cleaning were used. Women washed their hair brushes daily, and the proverbial “100 strokes” were used to spread conditioning oils from roots to tips and to remove older or excess oil and dirt. This was more time-consuming than modern washing, and this is one of the reasons that “good hair” was a class marker. The fact that only women of the upper classes could afford all the various rats, rolls, and other fake additions to bulk out their real hair was another. (An average Victorian woman of the upper middle or upper class had more apparent “hair” in her hairstyle than women I know whose unbound hair falls well below their knees.) Women rarely wore their hair lose unless it was in the process of being put up or taken down–or unless they were having a picture specifically taken of it! At night, most women braided their hair for bed. Now that my hair is well below my waist, I understand why!
The first modern shampoo was introduced in the late 1920s. Shampoos clean hair quickly and also remove modern styling products, like hairspray and gel, but the frequent hair-washing that has become common leaves longer hair brittle even with the best modern formulations. (From the 1940s to the 1960s, many if not most middle-class women had their hair washed only once a week, at their hairdresser’s, where it was restyled for the next week. The professional hairdresser stepped into the void that the maid left when domestic service became rare. Washing one’s hair daily or every other day is a very recent development.) That’s where conditioners came into play. Many people have wondered how on earth women could have nice hair by modern standards before conditioners, but conditioners are made necessary by shampoos. Well-maintained hair of the 19th century didn’t need conditioners because the oils weren’t regularly stripped from it.
Additionally, the oils made hair much more manageable than most people’s is today, which made it possible for women to obtain elaborate hairstyles using combs and pins–without modern clips or sprays–to keep their hair in place. This is why hair dressers still like to work with “day-old” hair when making elaborate hairstyles.
There were hair products like oils for women to add shine and powders meant to help brush dirt out of hair, but they weren’t in very wide use at the time. Hair “tonics”–mean to be put on the hair or taken orally to make hair shinier, thicker, or stronger–were ineffective but were readily available and widely marketed.
If you have a heroine go through something particularly nasty–such as a fall into a pond or the like–then she should wash her hair, by all means. This would be done in a tub prepared for the purpose–not in the bath–and would involve dissolving soap shavings into a water and combine them with whatever other products were desired. Then a maid would wash the woman’s hair as she leaned either forward or backward to thoroughly wet and wash her hair. Rinsing would be another stage. The hair would NEVER be piled on the head. If you have greater than waist-length hair and have ever tried to wash it in a modern-sized bathtub, you understand why no one attempted to wash her hair in a hip bath or an old, short claw foot tub! It would be almost impossible.
A quick rundown of other hair facts:
Hydrogen peroxide was used to bleach hair from 1867. Before that, trying to bleach it with soda ash and sunlight was the most a girl could do. Henna was extremely popular from the 1870s through the 1890s, especially for covering gray hair, to such an extent that gray hair became almost unseen in certain circles in England in this time. Red hair was considered ugly up until the 1860s, when the public embracing of the feminine images as presented by the aesthetic movement (Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood) gained ground, culminating in a positive rage for red hair in the 1870s to 1880s. Some truly scary metallic salt compounds were used to color hair with henna formulations by the late 19th century, often with unfortunate results.
Hair curling was popular in the 19th century and could either by achieved with rag rolls or hot tongs. Loose “sausage” rolls were the result of rag rolling. Hot tongs were used for making the “frizzled” bangs of the 1970s to 1880s–and “frizzled” they certainly were. The damage caused by the poor control of heating a curler over a gas jet or candle flame was substantial, and most women suffered burnt hair at one time or another. For this reason, a number of women chose to eschew the popular style and preserve their hair from such dangers! Permanents were first in use in the 1930s.  
(From: http://www.lydiajoyce.com/blog/?p=1022)




Anne Shirley probably used indigo on her red red hair. Indigo will turn brown hair a lovely blue-black. Blue and orange? A most appalling green.

azurelunatic:

virtualclutter:

Hair washing is something that almost every historical writer, romance or not, gets wrong. How many times have you read a story in which a heroine sinks gratefully into a sudsy tub of water and scrubs her hair–or, even worse, piles it up on her head to wash it? Or have you watched the BBC’s Manor House and other “historical reenactment” series, in which modern people invariably destroy their hair by washing using historical recipes?

Historical women kept their hair clean, but that doesn’t mean their hair was often directly washed. Those who had incredibly difficult to manage hair might employ a hairdresser to help them wash, cut, and singe (yes, singe!) their hair as often as once a month, but for most women, hair-washing was, at most, a seasonal activity.

“Why?” you might ask. “Wasn’t their hair lank, smelly, and nasty?”

And the writers who embrace ignorance as a badge of honor will say, “Well, that just goes to show that people used to be gross and dirty, and that’s why I never bother with that historical accuracy stuff!”

And then I have to restrain myself from hitting them…

The reason that hair was rarely washed has to do with the nature of soaps versus modern shampoos. Soaps are made from a lye base and are alkaline. Hair and shampoo are acidic. Washing hair in soap makes it very dry, brittle, and tangly. Men’s hair was shirt enough and cut often enough that using soap didn’t harm it too much and the natural oils from the scalp could re-moisturize it fairly easily after even the harshest treatment, but in an age when the average woman’s hair was down to her waist, soap could literally destroy a woman’s head of hair in fairly short order.

Instead, indirect methods of hair-cleaning were used. Women washed their hair brushes daily, and the proverbial “100 strokes” were used to spread conditioning oils from roots to tips and to remove older or excess oil and dirt. This was more time-consuming than modern washing, and this is one of the reasons that “good hair” was a class marker. The fact that only women of the upper classes could afford all the various rats, rolls, and other fake additions to bulk out their real hair was another. (An average Victorian woman of the upper middle or upper class had more apparent “hair” in her hairstyle than women I know whose unbound hair falls well below their knees.) Women rarely wore their hair lose unless it was in the process of being put up or taken down–or unless they were having a picture specifically taken of it! At night, most women braided their hair for bed. Now that my hair is well below my waist, I understand why!

The first modern shampoo was introduced in the late 1920s. Shampoos clean hair quickly and also remove modern styling products, like hairspray and gel, but the frequent hair-washing that has become common leaves longer hair brittle even with the best modern formulations. (From the 1940s to the 1960s, many if not most middle-class women had their hair washed only once a week, at their hairdresser’s, where it was restyled for the next week. The professional hairdresser stepped into the void that the maid left when domestic service became rare. Washing one’s hair daily or every other day is a very recent development.) That’s where conditioners came into play. Many people have wondered how on earth women could have nice hair by modern standards before conditioners, but conditioners are made necessary by shampoos. Well-maintained hair of the 19th century didn’t need conditioners because the oils weren’t regularly stripped from it.

Additionally, the oils made hair much more manageable than most people’s is today, which made it possible for women to obtain elaborate hairstyles using combs and pins–without modern clips or sprays–to keep their hair in place. This is why hair dressers still like to work with “day-old” hair when making elaborate hairstyles.

There were hair products like oils for women to add shine and powders meant to help brush dirt out of hair, but they weren’t in very wide use at the time. Hair “tonics”–mean to be put on the hair or taken orally to make hair shinier, thicker, or stronger–were ineffective but were readily available and widely marketed.

If you have a heroine go through something particularly nasty–such as a fall into a pond or the like–then she should wash her hair, by all means. This would be done in a tub prepared for the purpose–not in the bath–and would involve dissolving soap shavings into a water and combine them with whatever other products were desired. Then a maid would wash the woman’s hair as she leaned either forward or backward to thoroughly wet and wash her hair. Rinsing would be another stage. The hair would NEVER be piled on the head. If you have greater than waist-length hair and have ever tried to wash it in a modern-sized bathtub, you understand why no one attempted to wash her hair in a hip bath or an old, short claw foot tub! It would be almost impossible.

A quick rundown of other hair facts:

Hydrogen peroxide was used to bleach hair from 1867. Before that, trying to bleach it with soda ash and sunlight was the most a girl could do. Henna was extremely popular from the 1870s through the 1890s, especially for covering gray hair, to such an extent that gray hair became almost unseen in certain circles in England in this time. Red hair was considered ugly up until the 1860s, when the public embracing of the feminine images as presented by the aesthetic movement (Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood) gained ground, culminating in a positive rage for red hair in the 1870s to 1880s. Some truly scary metallic salt compounds were used to color hair with henna formulations by the late 19th century, often with unfortunate results.

Hair curling was popular in the 19th century and could either by achieved with rag rolls or hot tongs. Loose “sausage” rolls were the result of rag rolling. Hot tongs were used for making the “frizzled” bangs of the 1970s to 1880s–and “frizzled” they certainly were. The damage caused by the poor control of heating a curler over a gas jet or candle flame was substantial, and most women suffered burnt hair at one time or another. For this reason, a number of women chose to eschew the popular style and preserve their hair from such dangers! Permanents were first in use in the 1930s.  

(From: http://www.lydiajoyce.com/blog/?p=1022)

Anne Shirley probably used indigo on her red red hair. Indigo will turn brown hair a lovely blue-black. Blue and orange? A most appalling green.

18,961 notes

hellugh:

toxxic-fairyy:

This guy has the biggest balls

"did she say yes? …..hell yea"

(Source: my-jane-doe)

97,212 notes

Limits on Tumblr

abnormalgalliovant:

superlockedhogwartianinthetardis:

Followed blogs: 5,000

Liked posts: 99,999

Queued posts: 300

Daily posts (of any kind): 250

Daily photo uploads: 150

Daily liked posts: 1000

Daily followed blogs: 200

Tracked tags: 20 (otherwise it’ll stop counting new posts)

Only the first 5 tags will show up in search and tags

the more you know

29,786 notes

rionhunter:

I made a response to this, but unfortunately, tumblr has a way of eating up anything more than 10 lines long, and it got a little lost.  So, even though I’m not Hank, I thought I would make a full post explaining the science. 

To understand why it’s happening, though, I’m going to have to quickly explain to you what is happening first.

Hopefully we all know that animation (and film) is just a collection of images, flashed in quick succession.  The motion that we see, however, is pieced together in our brains, thanks to a thing called ‘persistence of vision’.

Persistence of Vision is caused by the lag in your brain.  Seriously.
That brief instant it takes for your brain to understand what it’s seeing is the reason you’re able to watch movies.  And we should be thankful for that brief instant.

Light comes into your eyeballs, and it’s crazy hectic data.  There’s so much stuff happening all the time everywhere.  And while our brains are good, they can’t process everything they’re seeing at light speed.  Everything we perceive through our retinas is just light, bouncing off other things.  We all know that, but it’s something we often forget.

The brain processes one instant of reality, then a snapshot of the next, and then the next, and so on, and pieces them together to create motion.

This is everything.  This is your entire reality.  The perception of instances blended together to form a delicious smoothy of senses.

For motion to be consistent, however, what it’s seeing needs to resemble what it was seeing the moment before.  For example, for objectX to look like it’s moving, it needs to mostly be where it was the microsecond before, but slightly not.

Basically, you need to think about those ol’ claymations kids make, where the lego slowly edges fowards.  You need to take that concept, and apply it to everything you’ve ever known and loved.

If objectX doesn’t overlap where it was before, it’ll look liked it appeared there out of nowhere or a whole new objectX.  This is when the illusion of movement is broken.  It doesn’t occur in live-action movies or reality as much, because it’s hard to break the illusion of reality when you’re in reality, whereas to create a realistic perception of reality, from nothing, on a screen?

Yeah, a little trickier.

In an industry setting, animators have to create at least 25 frames for every second of footage (FPS).  And sometimes, in that 25 frames, animators need to have something move so fast on a frame, that it doesn’t overlap its previous self.

Their solution, as you probably know, is to stretch and contort their object in a way that’s not dissimilar from motion blur with cameras.  Especially when you acknowledge that motion blur is everything that’s happening for that 1/25th of a second.

Again, a lot of this is common knowledge, but it’s a matter of how it all pieces together to work.

As you can see here, in figure A, the hotdogs are smoothly sliding out at a consistent speed, which means, if you were to mark each spot they were in every frame, the marks would make a straight line.

The intervals between each marking isn’t very much, because they’re moving quite slowly.  The hotdogs are mostly overlapping themselves between each frame.

Now remember that the illusion of movement is all in your brain, where it looks for something that resembled the instant before, and projects trajectory into your concious.

The only reason you’re able to reverse the flow of hotdogs is because they look so similar, and because it’s literally all in your head.

When you make yourself think the flow of hotdogs is going into this fine gentleman’s pants, you’re making yourself believe that, in one frame, hotdogX moves almost a whole hotdog length down, instead of only a little bit of a hotdog length up.

And because it’s almost a whole hotdog length down, in just one frame, the distance of the intervals along the hotdog’s trajectory increases, which means it travels more distance in the same amount of time. 

In that one instance of perceived reality (IPR)(Don’t use that anywhere serious, I just made that up), the hotdog moves 9 pixels, instead of 2 (approx.)(I’m not going to count them)

So, to summarize the answer to your question (aka TL:DR);

The reason why the ‘dogs fly into his pants faster is because your brain lag enables you to perceive motion through light  (it likes things that look the same).  And when things look the same, you can screw with your brain something hardcore. 
When you force your brain to see things at different intervals, it can change how you perceive them.

9,120 notes

pulsecrow:

countsassmaster:

geardrops:

fastcompany:

Portable Robot Printer Is Like A Roomba That Squirts Ink

it’s so cute i want an army of them

take it to school and print gay porn in your teacher’s planner book.

That is not the intended use sir

pulsecrow:

countsassmaster:

geardrops:

fastcompany:

Portable Robot Printer Is Like A Roomba That Squirts Ink

it’s so cute i want an army of them

take it to school and print gay porn in your teacher’s planner book.

That is not the intended use sir

149,836 notes

tfios-changed-my-life:

askgoodolmothy:

tfios-changed-my-life:

askgoodolmothy:

tfios-changed-my-life:

So this little cigarette right here has sparked a whole new brand of TFiOS hate, much of which is coming from people who claimed to love the book. 
Many people are now pointing out how “pretentious” Augustus is, and I can’t help but think, You’re only just now realizing this. He was written to be a seemingly pretentious and arrogant person. The acknowledgement of this is actually highly important because, without it, the book loses the message that a hero’s journey is that of strength to weakness. 
Augustus Waters has big dreams for himself. He wants to be known and remembered; he wants to be a hero; he wants to be seen as perfect. But there’s already something standing in his way… He has a disability, and society tells him that a person cannot be both perfect and disabled. So what does he do? He creates a persona for himself. He tries to appear older and wiser than he is. But the pretentious side of him is NOT who he truly is. It’s all an act. (This is evident in the fact that he often uses words in the wrong context.)
And when his cancer returns, we begin to see his mask cracking. The true Augustus begins to bleed through… Hazel even takes notice of this from time to time. And by the time we get to the gas station scene, Augustus is no longer the picture of perfection he was when we met him. The play has been canceled. The actor must reveal himself. And he’s revealed to be a weak, defenseless boy, succumbing to the cancer that is made of him. 
THE PRETENTIOUSNESS IS INTENTIONAL. It stands to show Augustus’s journey from flawless to flawed, from strong to weak. It’s the key to understanding that Augustus was the hero he always wanted to be, even if he didn’t realized it. 

I just want you to know that that speech was also really pretentious.

I’m wondering, do you actually know the definition of pretentious? Because I don’t think you do…

You’re right, doubting someone’s intelligence and requesting they look something up in a dictionary is very down-to-earth and humble. I apologize.

I didn’t doubt your intelligence. I asked if you knew the definition of pretentious. Because my “speech” does not fit the definition at all. You don’t even know me or anything about me but you keep right on pretending you do.

tfios-changed-my-life:

askgoodolmothy:

tfios-changed-my-life:

askgoodolmothy:

tfios-changed-my-life:

So this little cigarette right here has sparked a whole new brand of TFiOS hate, much of which is coming from people who claimed to love the book. 

Many people are now pointing out how “pretentious” Augustus is, and I can’t help but think, You’re only just now realizing this. He was written to be a seemingly pretentious and arrogant person. The acknowledgement of this is actually highly important because, without it, the book loses the message that a hero’s journey is that of strength to weakness

Augustus Waters has big dreams for himself. He wants to be known and remembered; he wants to be a hero; he wants to be seen as perfect. But there’s already something standing in his way… He has a disability, and society tells him that a person cannot be both perfect and disabled. So what does he do? He creates a persona for himself. He tries to appear older and wiser than he is. But the pretentious side of him is NOT who he truly is. It’s all an act. (This is evident in the fact that he often uses words in the wrong context.)

And when his cancer returns, we begin to see his mask cracking. The true Augustus begins to bleed through… Hazel even takes notice of this from time to time. And by the time we get to the gas station scene, Augustus is no longer the picture of perfection he was when we met him. The play has been canceled. The actor must reveal himself. And he’s revealed to be a weak, defenseless boy, succumbing to the cancer that is made of him. 

THE PRETENTIOUSNESS IS INTENTIONAL. It stands to show Augustus’s journey from flawless to flawed, from strong to weak. It’s the key to understanding that Augustus was the hero he always wanted to be, even if he didn’t realized it. 

I just want you to know that that speech was also really pretentious.

I’m wondering, do you actually know the definition of pretentious? Because I don’t think you do…

You’re right, doubting someone’s intelligence and requesting they look something up in a dictionary is very down-to-earth and humble. I apologize.

I didn’t doubt your intelligence. I asked if you knew the definition of pretentious. Because my “speech” does not fit the definition at all.
You don’t even know me or anything about me but you keep right on pretending you do.

98,961 notes

folieasherlock:

actualucifer:

lumos5001:

skeletonflight:

AU The Fault In Our Stars where Hazel Grace succumbs to the cancer and dies and in the last scene all you see is Augustus standing out side with a cigarette between his lips and a hand slowly reaching up to light it.

HOW IS THIS ANY BETTER THAN THE ORIGINAL ENDING!!!!

image

image

image

image

image

living up to your url i see

143,345 notes