Some pointless colour things that may or may not be relevant

just-a-line-to-say:

So we all know that colours are written in the format #000000 and a while ago I saw a thing about how #246010 is this colour and this happens:

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So then, because I’m investigating juxtaposition, I wondered what colour ‘246010’ is backwards, and I am so angry right now because #010642 is:

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And you’ll never guess what the goddamn costume department did

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YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW ANGRY I AM

(via broadway-bae)

Anonymous: I'm sorry I didn't visit last night. I almost went to the ER because of joint pain being really bad

Oh I’m sorry :( I hope you’re feeling better!

doctormemelordmd:

fangirling-so-hard-rn:

nowyoukno:

Now You Know (Source)

Crows are scary
They

  • use tools
  • Can be taught to speak (like parrots)
  • Have huge brains for birds
  • like seriously their brain-to-body size ratio is equal to that of a chimpanzee
  • They vocalize anger, sadness, or happiness in response to things
  • they are scary smart at solving puzzles
  • some ravens stay with their mates until one of them dies
  • they can remember faces
  • SIDENOTE HERE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT.  They did an experiment where these guys wore masks and some of them fucked with crows.  Pretty soon the crows recognized the masks = douchebag.  But the nice guys with masks they left alone.  THEN, OH WE’RE NOT DONE, NO SIR crows that WEREN’T EVEN IN THE EXPERIMENT AND NEVER SAW THE MASK BEFORE knew about mask-dudes and attacked them on sight.  THEY PASSED ON THE FUCKING INFORMATION TO THEIR CROW BUDDIES.
  • They remember places where crows were killed by farmers and change their migration patterns.

Guys I’m really scared of crows now.
(q

Yeah but have you seen this 

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(via oceanowllove)

Strings

Strings. Strings everywhere. I see them tightly bound to people holding them to other people; the girl across from me who is staring at her phone, oblivious to their existence even though she has so many, is unaware of my crazed attention to every little detail of her jacket and eye twinkle. I see a couple walk by, their strings are tying them together and they look so happy and intimate. It’s at the sight of those crimson, perfectly bound strings that I am overcome with this inescapable, soul-wrenching desire to have my own strings tied to someone, but they’ve only ever been untied. How do I get mine tied to another? Surely one does not just go and ask someone plainly. Everyone seems to have these strings and this innate knowledge of what to do with them and I am just staring. Just staring. The compressed passion within me is enough to make me go nuclear and all I can do stare. The time spent trying to figure out this simple and inconceivably complex thought the girl across from me gets up and walks away without the briefest acknowledgement.