I’ve just wrapped up my biggest personal project ever - meet Freddy the Dilophosaurus! This journey started with modeling him in Blender, where I tackled learning how to slice the model into smaller, printable pieces. Then came the challenge of transferring the files to my new Bambu P1S printer. Printing took about 2-3 days.
The next step was assembling Freddy and filling in some gaps with gap filler. The final touch? Painting him over a span of 3 days. Now he’s a majestic 50cm tall and 86cm long! My cat Teddy here for size comparison.
I’m planning to take him out to the rainforest tomorrow to celebrate this achievement. And if you’re keen on creating your own Freddy, keep an eye out on my Cults3d store - I’ll be uploading him soon!
This project was a huge learning curve for me, and I’m excited to apply all these new skills to my next venture - a Spinosaurus. Stay tuned!
i have one thing to say to people who complain about gen z and queer people existing: hey look i know you get a boner when you think of children but for gods sake just admit that plainly because blaming it on trans people isnt gonna make you look better
fuck everything else were u a weird obscure touhou/vocaloid videos you didn’t understand kid a mario/nintendo/mc parodies kid or a nyan cat/duck song/asdf movie kid
my friend who is training to be a 911 operator just told me that they are having to restrain themself whenever responding to training calls from saying “that’s illegal people can’t do that” and I find that so fucking funny
the neurotypical invents the neurodivergent. neuro(non)normativity is a constant negotiation of social conditions + relation to capital + carceral frameworks of legal, educational, medical systems. “neurotype” is not an ontological status. it is a mirror held to the world in which it exists.
your first mistake is treating transmasc / transfem like inherent opposites. your second mistake is treating man / woman in general like opposites but you all are not ready for that convo.
“Baikal Zen”: Rocks that have fallen on the ice of Lake Baikal are heated by sunlight and emit infrared rays that melt the ice below. Once the sun is gone, the ice becomes solid again, creating a small support for the rock above.
scrolling down I was like “oh what a cool idea! someone skipped stones on a lake and took high speed photographs to get these pictures where it looks like the water is holding up the stone which is kinda was does happen a-oh, no. nope. it’s just Fucking Lake Baikal up to its god defying nonsense again”
When I was but a wee baby high schooler I made this on my school issued chromebook and posted it to my og tumblr blog and I just knew in my heart it would do numbers but alas it got 1 note. (me on my other blog)
First, you gotta get a cool cup. I got this one from a thrift store for a very affordable price. But if you can’t find one, a standard clear cup or jar should suffice
Now, you don’t need a decal, but I recommend it because they’re cool. I just got some sticker vinyl, traced and cut out the Wii logo and some stars
Now for the drink!!
Start by making or buying jelly. If you make it, you should do so a few hours before you intend to make the drinks, as it will need time to set. You can find jelly at most any grocery store.
Get your cup and add ice and jelly. You should cut the jelly into small pieces or use cookie cutters to make fun shapes. I recommend you don’t add quite all of the jelly, as you’ll need some for the top later
Next, add your flavoring syrup of choice, I recommend blue raspberry or melon. You should be able to find them at any restaurant supply store
Then, add carbonated water. Flavored sparkling waters also work fine, as they don’t taste like much. You should be able to find some at any store that sells drinks.
Next add Calpico, this is technically optional, but it tastes way better with it, so it’d highly recommend it. You can get it at practically any Asian market, or normal market if you live in Asia
Now, add some ice cream, or something of the sort, I use vanilla.
After that, you can top it with some whipped cream, jelly shapes, cherries, really anything!!
I would also recommend using a straw to drink it, because you will need to mix it up a bit. but you can’t really mix it before hand, because it will ruin the cool gradient affect
If anyone makes this, please rb with your results!! I wanna see!!
i was in the library and the lights went out and i whispered “dark academia” and only one person laughed but ive been having a bad enough week that it felt like a win so cheers
thanks everyone :’)
you’re right obviously this joke is too funny to flop like that. what really happened was i whispered “dark academia” and the girl next to me turned around and kissed me, with tongue, and everyone clapped etc etc
To expand on my last point about the irresponsibility of debating genocide: the thing is, after more than 80 days of this genocide being literally televised and widely shared, we just cannot be having the same old discussions about Palestine.
How are we going to have the same conversation about “Hamas this, Hamas that”, “Israel’s right to exist this, bullshit that” when we have lived through the past 80 days watching a tally of an ever increasing number of Palestinians killed by Israel, now reaching over 21,000? We have seen so many instances that many had originally thought “how can Israel recover from this?” and yet here we are after numerous hospitals being bombed, refugee camps shelled, entire residential blocks levelled to the ground, men and women stripped and tortured and executed in football fields.
Not only are these discussions futile in nature as you discuss your humanity with your oppressor, but they had clearly not done anything to stop the bloodshed caused by Israel in the past 75+ years, let alone the past 80 days. These “discussions” are simply Zionists’ favourite pastime to distract from the actual hell we are witnessing and deflect from being held accountable for enabling a literal genocide.
Simply put, conversations about Palestine can no longer centre the aggressor and go through their talking points first to finally be able to discuss the ongoing genocide they’re committing against Palestinians. For a start, shift your focus and make telling Zionists to shut the fuck up an integral part of your daily routine.
When I was young, I never really understood my parents insistence to only use olive oil imported from Palestine. It took a long time and a great distance in a process that was neither cheap nor convenient. The oil came in old beat-up containers that did not look appealing to me at all. In my head, if they wanted to support distant family back home, they could just send them money and save us and them a big hassle. We could just use the nice looking olive oil containers from the nearby store. Yet, this was never an option in our household. The only olive oil we used at home was from Palestine.
As I grew up and started a student part-time job, I worked with olive oil a little. I knew all about olive oil imported from Spain, Italy, and other countries. I knew which ones were better and more expensive. I also learned to tell, based on the pungent taste, which ones were extra virgin. I was tempted to use my employee discount to bring home one of the fancy bottles and use at our kitchen. I could not get myself to do it, and I did not exactly know why. I felt like it would be disrespectful to my parents even if it didn’t make sense to me. It did not feel right. It was not an option.
After living in Palestine for a year during the olive picking season, something changed. The olive picking season in Palestine is holy.
Palestinians relate to the weather based on how it would benefit or harm the olives. There is well-known unspoken rule about treating olive trees with respect. There is a day off from work just to pick olives. On public transportation, it is not unusual to hear someone on the phone telling their friend to stop by for their share of this year’s olive oil stored in what used to be a Coca-Cola or a liquor bottle. A driver will stop in the middle of the way to give his brother- in- law a jar of olives that are so close to one another that they start to crush showing their insides.
In Nablus, the owner of the Nabulsi soap factory takes pride in how picky he is about getting his olive oil. He insists on filling a cup to let me smell how authentic it is and smirks as he sees my diasporic facial expressions transform in appreciation of its strong smell running through all of my brain cells.
I started noticing how olive oil is an essential part of so many dishes. “Palestinians drink more olive oil than water” I would jokingly say and they would laugh in agreement. Olive oil is truly an everyday ritual.
They fantasize about its color when it’s fresh and remind me that it starts to change as it reacts with oxygen over time. They dip their bread into olive oil, just like that and without any additions, and enjoy it more than the sweetest of all foods. I can guarantee that every lunch invitation (عزومة) I received during the olive-picking season was a chance for my hosts to share their olive oil using Msakhan (a traditional Palestinian dish).
I now have a deeper understanding of the psychology behind the burning of olive trees by Israeli soldiers and why farmers moan at the scene as if they lost a loved one.
Wherever you are, if it’s accessible to you, make sure your olive oil is Palestinian. Your ancestors would want that.
the US dropped more than 7.5 million tons of bombs on vietnam, laos and cambodia from 1965-75. they destroyed our land, used agent orange, slaughtered villages, separated families, the list goes on.
but we’re. still. here.
indigenous people are still here. black people are still here. colonized people are resilient. even if you kill our people, ban our languages, destroy our homes, heritage sites and artifacts, we will always find a way to keep our cultures alive and that has always been true
so much of the west and isntreal’s tactics and actions are hauntingly familiar to me as a viet person. its a colonizer’s rinse and repeat. and so that’s how i know palestine will be free. we’ve seen this film before]
When I was young, I never really understood my parents insistence to only use olive oil imported from Palestine. It took a long time and a great distance in a process that was neither cheap nor convenient. The oil came in old beat-up containers that did not look appealing to me at all. In my head, if they wanted to support distant family back home, they could just send them money and save us and them a big hassle. We could just use the nice looking olive oil containers from the nearby store. Yet, this was never an option in our household. The only olive oil we used at home was from Palestine.
As I grew up and started a student part-time job, I worked with olive oil a little. I knew all about olive oil imported from Spain, Italy, and other countries. I knew which ones were better and more expensive. I also learned to tell, based on the pungent taste, which ones were extra virgin. I was tempted to use my employee discount to bring home one of the fancy bottles and use at our kitchen. I could not get myself to do it, and I did not exactly know why. I felt like it would be disrespectful to my parents even if it didn’t make sense to me. It did not feel right. It was not an option.
After living in Palestine for a year during the olive picking season, something changed. The olive picking season in Palestine is holy.
Palestinians relate to the weather based on how it would benefit or harm the olives. There is well-known unspoken rule about treating olive trees with respect. There is a day off from work just to pick olives. On public transportation, it is not unusual to hear someone on the phone telling their friend to stop by for their share of this year’s olive oil stored in what used to be a Coca-Cola or a liquor bottle. A driver will stop in the middle of the way to give his brother- in- law a jar of olives that are so close to one another that they start to crush showing their insides.
In Nablus, the owner of the Nabulsi soap factory takes pride in how picky he is about getting his olive oil. He insists on filling a cup to let me smell how authentic it is and smirks as he sees my diasporic facial expressions transform in appreciation of its strong smell running through all of my brain cells.
I started noticing how olive oil is an essential part of so many dishes. “Palestinians drink more olive oil than water” I would jokingly say and they would laugh in agreement. Olive oil is truly an everyday ritual.
They fantasize about its color when it’s fresh and remind me that it starts to change as it reacts with oxygen over time. They dip their bread into olive oil, just like that and without any additions, and enjoy it more than the sweetest of all foods. I can guarantee that every lunch invitation (عزومة) I received during the olive-picking season was a chance for my hosts to share their olive oil using Msakhan (a traditional Palestinian dish).
I now have a deeper understanding of the psychology behind the burning of olive trees by Israeli soldiers and why farmers moan at the scene as if they lost a loved one.
Wherever you are, if it’s accessible to you, make sure your olive oil is Palestinian. Your ancestors would want that.
Whenever I see people try to differentiate what is “Israel” and what is the “Palestinian state” I always have a very awkward feeling - which is why I think a lot of people need to reevaluate how they speak about Palestine and Israel, specifically what they define as occupied Palestine.
My father’s family is from a village in Jaffa (the district), which is now part of what most people define as “mainland Israel” or an “undisputed” part of Israel - like that land was acquired legally or ethically and an unequivocal part of what is Israel vs what is considered (at least to some) Palestine (the West Bank & Gaza).
My father’s family had the choice to flee or die and to this day cannot return home to Jaffa. It leaves me with a strange feeling when people discuss a hypothetical “two state solution” as if that land is inarguably Israel and the West Bank and Gaza is inarguably Palestine - my family is not from the West Bank or Gaza, they’re from Jaffa. Proudly Palestinians from Jaffa - they’re not Israeli and never be Israeli, they predate the modern colonial state of Israel.
When people talk about occupied Palestine, they’re usually referring to the 1967 borders and the increasing settlements in the West Bank, when Palestinians talk about occupied Palestine, we’re talking about all of it - every corner of what people define as “mainland Israel” there is a story of Palestinian dispossession - It includes my family and thousands of others.
Porn bots on here are trying out new pick up lines, I see
This has to be adaptive learning. A line like this wouldn’t work on any other goddamn site or its userbase aside from this godsforsaken one and it knows that
Men and masculinity are not inherently bad or untrustworthy things and I don’t mean that in a ‘misandry is real and a problem’ way, I mean that in a 'I think some of you might have contracted minor TERF poisoning’ way
I hate how when you add ANY amount of new liquid to a boiling pot it immediately goes dead silent like…. Oh. You’re here 😐. The water molecules looking at you like
at work we have a bartender named tyler and he collects wine corks so we put them in a little box for him and another bartender makes fun of him cause his t’s look like l’s so she wrote “lyler’s corks” and i saw it this morning and i grabbed a marker and changed the ‘c’ to a ‘g’
and after he left a bartender came up to me and said “aww lyler left his gorks” and i lost it
can i be honest im 100% for the fact that like the tradwife stay at home mom thing is really fucked culturally but also like i think we as a society have to figure this shit out because a child needs the equivalent (if not more) of a full time job’s worth of work from an adult who (for the health of the child and for the ethics of the situation honestly) needs to be able to function in a way that isn’t making the adult miserable because being raised by miserable adults has really tangible negative impacts on children. whether its community childcare so that simply more adults can be involved in the situation or much more robust social aid towards young families. like this might he stupidly idealistic but i think really the root of a lot of issues in society come from the fact that people refuse to understand the gravity of like. parenthood. its an insane responsibility. i think it should be treated as such
raising a kid is a full time job. it can be a part time job for about three people. keeping a household clean and cooking 2-3 meals a day is another full time job. so like, no shit women want to have ONE job at a time. right now they’re expected to have about three.
Overall, Israel’s killings in Gaza are not given proportionate coverage in either scope or emotional weight as the deaths of Israelis on October 7. These killings are mostly presented as arbitrarily high, abstract figures. Nor are the killings described using emotive language like “massacre,” “slaughter,” or “horrific.” Hamas’s killings of Israeli civilians are consistently portrayed as part of the group’s strategy, whereas Palestinian civilian killings are covered almost as if they were a series of one-off mistakes, made thousands of times, despite numerousOpens in a new tabpointsOpens in a new tab of evidenceOpens in a new tab indicating Israel’s intent to harm civilians and civilian infrastructure.
Biased coverage in major newspapers and mainstream television news is impacting general perceptions of the war and directing viewers toward a warped view of the conflict. This has led to pro-Israel punditsOpens in a new tabandOpens in a new tabpoliticiansOpens in a new tab blaming pro-Palestinian views on social media “misinformation.”
Analysis of both print media and cable news, however, make it clear that, if any cohort of media consumers is getting a slanted picture, it’s those who get their news from established mass media in the U.S.
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