The Very Definition of Random

Blogging about my stories & reblogging the things I like. Visit the main site too: http//
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Just got ‘The Art of Neil Gaiman’ from the library. Loving it! @neilhimself


Sunday thoughts

(via neil-gaiman)


The model featured in one of Burger King’s infamously suggestive ads for the BK Super Seven Incher has said the company used her image without her permission. In a statement, the woman said that she was publicly humiliated and calls for people to boycott. 

(via seananmcguire)



Where does the smell of rain come from?

If you said “from the sky,” then congratulations! You are hilarious. But it’s a lot more interesting than that. The pungent perfume that accompanies rainstorms carries special chemical signatures, some born from lightning, some from deep within the soil.

And beyond just being pleasant and nostalgic, those smells are actually useful to some living things, such as telling plants when it’s time to grow, guiding camels across the desert, and even signaling some fish when it’s time to get “romantic”. 

Take a big whiff, because there’s a science storm a-comin’!


Designer & Artist:

Zim & Zou

"The Future of Food"

"Cover illustration for Icon magazine 104, about the Future of Food. 
Inspired by 3D food printer technology.”



Hilary White


Wood, Acrylic Paint, Oil Paint, Spray Paint, Acrylic Sheet

7’ ft x 7’ ft x 14’ ft


"Be kind to everyone for we are all fighting a hard battle." –Plato


"Be kind to everyone for we are all fighting a hard battle." –Plato


Window. One of my 2013 quick paintings with ink and watercolor, I love expressive eyes and lots of blue (:
#watercolor #ink #paint #painting #blue #eye #eyes #Ecoline #window #janebeata #sketch






Members of Congress are living off food stamps for a week to protest Republican cuts. It’s a challenge for them, but GOP cuts would hurt millions of everyday Americans

Why does this not have more publicity. This needs it!

I want a reality tv show where politicians have to live in poverty for a month. They have to live in Government housing, shop with food stamps, and get only a limited amount of money for clothes. Because here, they still have all their trappings, lilke nice cars and thousand dollar suits. I want them in Walmart jeans trying to determine if they can afford a carton of milk. 

Give them a full calendar year. I want to see them confident in January, and sometime around June choking back tears at the Safeway because they are tired, so tired, of eating 25 cent cup noodles, eyeing other peoples’ full grocery carts with a dull bewilderment.

Let me see them despair because they have a persistent nagging cough that won’t go away and might be turning into pneumonia but the minute clinic is $60, which might as well be as six million dollars, either way they ain’t got it to spare - and that doesn’t count the cost of prescriptions. Let me hear them tell people about the muscle cramps they get at night due to eating non-nutritious garbage for months, the weakness from persistent hunger. 

Let them know the shame and frustration of only owning one pair of cheap polyester pants for work and one pair of thrift-store jeans, and both persistently have ripped crotches and seams coming undone, no matter how many times they get sewn back up.

Let the women know the particular sort of despair that comes once a month when you can’t afford even the cheapest pads or tampons.

Let them understand the frustration of being charged a $35 fee for a $2 overdraft. Let them watch as the bank holds charges from different days in “pending” till they all come through on the same day, and the bank charges them four times for a single overdraft because “the charges all cleared at the same time”. 

I want them to know the particular pain of having to decide between food for the week, or transportation costs to and from work. You can’t have both. Choose wisely.

You do not truly understand poverty until you’ve lived it and a month isn’t enough to encompass it. Not even close.

I have $7000 in medical bills this year because I let something go untreated for nine years because I couldn’t afford it. When I broke my hand I refused to go to the doctor because I couldn’t afford it - it wasn’t until my manager swore up and down that worker’s comp would cover it that I even considered going - and there were pieces of bone sticking out of my hand. I once walked on a broken foot for a year. A year. Because my boss wouldn’t let me have the time off to let it heal properly and my job required being on my feet for 8+hours a day. And that fucking foot kept starting to heal and then re-fracturing all over again. Spaghetti makes me sick to my stomach because I ate it every fucking day for months on end because pasta and tomato sauce are CHEAP, but there was no meat and no veggies, so it didn’t really do me any good. 

Sometimes I buy things I don’t need just to prove to myself that I can. And sometimes I go crazy and buy bags of things for the homeless shelter and the food bank because Jesus, do people need it and I have a little extra to spare now. Sometimes I hoard things, like soap and food and old clothes that I don’t like and will never wear again, because what if I need it in the future and can’t afford it?

Sometimes I remember being so poor that my power was turned off and my bank account was negative and I had nothing in the kitchen but ramen noodles and canned beans and god only knew how I was going to scrape together $475 to pay the rent on my shitty apartment and the lingering stress makes me start to cry.

(via seananmcguire)


Sony is planning a female-centric ‘Spider-Man’ spin-off

We speculate as to who the main character could be. 

I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.
Jonathan Carroll  (via theremina)

(via neil-gaiman)



photos from suzie szterhas' book, “eye on the wild,” of seven week old lion cubs in kenya’s masai mara reserve meeting their father for the first time.

in order to get these photos, suzie, who noticed a mother venturing alone into a den to give birth, waited patiently outside until the cubs emerged — and this after three months of slowly getting the mother and pride comfortable with her presence. 

notes suzie, “it’s a delicate thing gaining an animal’s trust, particularly when it’s an animal that has newborns.”  but she adds"if you spend enough time around these animals, if you wait through the slow periods (and lions sleep about twenty hours a day) …you get to witness stuff that’s very special and very rare."

and after seven weeks of waiting, suzie witnessed the mother bring her cubs out of the den to meet the pride and their father for the first time, and witnessed the father react by gently playing with them, even when bitten.

"Hey, let’s play with dad!"

"How do you play with dad?"

"Same way I play with you!"

"Bite him on the face?"

Lol @ dad’s mean-mug in second to last photo

(via seananmcguire)