Soulsguard Reverie Bastion

Some Facts About Anime Girls

Anime girls differ from human girls in a number of important ways. Today I am going to discuss one particular lesser-known but crucial facet.

Unlike human girls, an anime girl’s throat has essentially no difficult barrier to penetrating objects. Of course there is a barrier―it wouldn’t be as fun if there were no resistance at all―but you can’t make them unexpectedly vomit or otherwise fail to intake the entire

All anime girls love to suck cock and will instinctively go toward any penis exposed to them for this purpose. If you find yourself losing an argument with an anime girl, just go ahead and whip it out. She may protest, may claim it’s unfair that you’re using her ineluctable biology against her, but just remember: that’s the whole point. It’s in her nature. If she is particularly strong-willed (and remember, many anime girls, especially those from mediocre shonen, have this quality), she may resist and struggle for a bit, but worry not: soon she will be upon you and you may as well enjoy the pathetic, futile struggle.

Once she has begun, don’t forget to engage with her. Your anime girl loves you and this cannot change, but that’s no reason to neglect her. Pet her hair. Talk to her, if you like. Don’t be afraid to shove her head down if she gets lax about deepthroating you. She has no physiological reason not to do this and besides, she’ll enjoy being reminded of her duty.

After you come, you’ll enjoy another feature anime girls have over human ones: she’ll swallow every last drop, hungrily, and when she emerges you will find yourself clean, with no residue, not even saliva. It’s magic!

If there are other anime girls around, you may take advantage of the Coolidge effect and let one of them have a go at you as well, but you may also just end the session. It is up to you; with anime girls, you’re always the boss.

After your encounter, you may find that whatever you were arguing about has dissolved into oxytocin-fueled mutual affection, and seems unimportant now.

:]

ctrlcreep:

“Don’t feel bad, your style of thought is well-suited to X.” (where X is typically incorrect, you hate X, & Y is much more important)
There are things in the world that are important and good. There are also a lot of other things.
Separate from that which is good, important, is a corpus of activities that tend to produce and/or maintain the G/I.
Separate from this corpus is, presumably, some kind of infrastructure necessary for humans to coordinate these activities, many tiny acts that indirectly sustain those who directly sustain the G/I. This level is opaque, difficult to perceive, difficult to quantify…
Often, it feels as though you’re completely cut off from that system.
Most people agree that some art is good. A few can even explain why.
@ctrlcreep so humans do you feel like this because I often feel like this about art & scattered dreamscape thought vs., like, math & depth?
I’m not bad at math. I don’t know whether I’d be bad at depth, if it was what I applied myself to. I value these things very highly, I don’t apparently lack any necessary inherent talent, I punish myself for not pursuing them with guilt and self-doubt, and proceed to thoroughly ignore them in favor of art, daydreaming, writing.
A few potential explanations:
I am kidding myself about being capable of math/depth/etc.
This preference for math and depth is externally imposed and is creating predictable psychological stresses.
…somebody once told me, “You have a telos,”
We’re back where we started. When I am feeling sad about my apparent separation from the G/I, I find myself saying things like “I hate art,”, “Art is a useless waste of time,” and most famously, “Drawing is exactly the same as microwaving kittens.” That last statement is probably false; but still, drawing isn’t building bridges.
Wise people know that you can’t ignore motivation. You’re not going to dedicate 10,000 hours to something you hate, but you’re also unlikely to spend that much time doing anything you aren’t intensely, inexplicably obsessed with. Want to become a genius? Follow your star.
But sometimes that star is bullshit and wrong. What do you do when the things you love to do fail to align with the things you know are important and correct?
(The correct answer is: spend 10,000 hours developing an incredibly honed metaskill of preference-changing.)
@ctrlcreepif you feel like this, what do you feel like this about (the dialogue may be internal) (I am collecting data / sorrows)
I regret that some of my commentary may have skewed responses towards expressing an art/science type split. My personal struggle is less right brain/left brain bunk, and more [urge to create beauty + questioning utility of beauty], or [urge to explore the limits of what’s possible vs. urge to expand the limits of what’s possible].
Who determines what art is made? My overwhelming intuition is “the people who make the paints and the brushes”.
@incantamina:
i am well suited to math and logic but would really like to be creative, good with writing, words, etc
@SweetNAwful:
I feel I’m mentally suited more towards business / marketing but I’d rather be good at creative endeavours.
@ProofOfLogic:
I’m really envious of your thought style but have developed mine for “math & depth”
The grass is always greener, huh.
Well, this makes sense: because I tweet a lot of creative fluff, I’m followed by people who enjoy and value creative fluff. In turn, I follow perhaps more math and logic people than you’d expect.
Side note: There are a lot of mindspaces. I have never in my life imagined what it would be like to be seeped in “business/marketing” – pretty cool.
So anyways, these people are all wrong. I have thought a lot, have looked upon my works and spat, thinking, “This should be a spaceship or something.” Despite my best efforts, it never is.
Bill has never won a game of minesweeper. Every time he comes close, as near as one final square to be clicked, he’s focusing, “Don’t mess this up, Bill. This is your chance. You’re nearly there.” His hand spasms, it all blows up.
Why are you locking yourself out of everything that is G/I? Have you tried not doing that?
Look, I’m just trying to convey the pain of having highly dissonant preference/values systems.
@ProofOfLogic:
& maybe I could develop both, but still it’s more valuable for me to get further math & depth as I’m still largely inadequate
Specialization is a necessity. 10,000 hours is arbitrary, but it does a good job of representing the correct thing, a massive investment of time and effort. Everything that isn’t the one thing you want to be good at is opportunity cost. You’re fucked. Choose, or be mediocre.
You don’t get to choose, though. These kinds of calculations become apparent long after your formative years, long after the calcification of habits and preference.
The things you are good at are easy and vacuous. The things others are good at are hard and full of value.
Maybe art is valuable, if only as pellets of motivation and fuel for those pursuing higher things. Mosquitoes are an irreplaceable part of the ecosystem. It’s the circle of life, man. All the creatures are vital. More saliently: We don’t all get to be the apex predator.
You want to interact directly with G/I? No. Sorry. Try rationalizing that you’re part of its support system.
There are things in the world that are important and good. It’s probably impossible to know whether you’re in contact with them.

TL;DR: inferiority complex and everything is terrible. all hail STEM

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fat-birds:

Hooded Merganser (Lophodytes cucullatus) Displaying by L!@M on Flickr.
And with this silly little picture, I leave you for tonight. G’night, Tumblr!

magicalnaturetour:

Photo by Papooga

prettybirds:

Speckled Tanager

prettybirds:

Great Grey Owl

magicalnaturetour:

Some superb photographs of birds, Sushyue Liao , a Taiwanese photographer (via)

birdsbirds:

tootricky:
Snuggling cockatiels (source)
too cute to not reblog omg

x

bird machine

My Congo African Grey picks up stuff REALLY fast. Sometimes he’ll piece together stuff that’s hilarious.

Yesterday I was sitting next to him reading, and he was preening quietly so I told him he was being really good — giving them attention when they’re not screaming gives them the option of not screaming when they want attention, so I try to do this a lot.

His response? He said in a friendly tone, “You’re a really good Nattie. Haha. I love you, bitch.” My husband and I use obscenities as casual endearments.

Then sometimes he’ll throw stuff together in Engrish-y ways that almost make sense. The other day we were moving, so I put Bongo (the African Grey) and our cockatiel in their travel cages so I could take their huge cages apart to stick in the truck. Bongo didn’t like this, so he decided to lift up his water bowl, which lifts the food cup door, and throw it on the floor. Shocked, I said, “You douche!” Bongo yeowled, this hilarious gibberishy cat-like sound. My husband came in and asked what happened, and Bongo said, “Yes, that became water now.” I want to put that on a shirt with like, a picture of an anthropocentrized flower or something.

Other times he’ll say stuff that makes sense, logically and grammatically, that he’s put together on his own, but it’s just funny. The other day we were sitting in silence for a while, when Bongo suddenly let out this long sigh and said, “Well, I guess I *am* Bongo,” not in a revelatory tone, but in the same grudging way someone takes responsibility, like when someone says, “I guess I *am* the adult here.” I blinked at him and said, “Alright. How does that make you feel?” and he just gave a weary “hm” and started preening, like there was nothing to be done for it so we may as well move on with life.

On a less philosophical note, a few weeks ago we put the birds to bed, which basically means just putting them in their cages and covering them. Most nights, Bongo does not want to go to bed, but that night he REALLY didn’t want to. He tried to scramble back out of the cage but wasn’t fast enough. He then clung to the side as my husband wrapped the blanket around, and, adopting my husband’s raging-at-Mortal-Kombat voice, yelled, “Nooooooooooooooooo!” We cracked up because we couldn’t help it, which he did not seem to appreciate. He fell silent once the blanket was in place. Then we flicked the light switch off, and Bongo said simply, “Fuck.”

Bongo is awesome. Parrots are awesome. When we lived in Texas, there was a breeder who said that her breeding parrots would speak some human to their chicks, like “good girl” and “here’s some nummies” when feeding them. Bongo uses both when he talks to our cockatiel, which is positively creepy since they hate each other; he’ll climb on Precious’s cage to harass him, and say, “Come here Precious” and snicker, and when Precious starts squawking in outrage, he says, “Calm down, Precious,” or (more rudely) “Shut up, Precious.” What’s especially amusing about this is we practically never said those things to Precious because Precious didn’t scream as much as Bongo used to; we’d say “calm down, Bongo” instead, but he says Precious. He also tries to blame his own screaming on Precious if I’m out of the room: he will scream a lot, and if I eventually say anything back telling him to knock it off, he says “shut up Precious.” And then screams again. (He doesn’t scream much anymore after I started being more alert to enforcing and ignoring certain things.) Precious also does this horrible, scratchy barking sound in imitation of an alarm clock we had when he was a baby, and Bongo will start whistling La Cucaracha whenever Precious starts in on this because Precious LOVES La Cucaracha and will instantly start singing instead.

It is always interesting to me to see different ways Bongo figures out how to use sounds to change stuff around him. One of my favorite things he likes to do is sit on the back of my wooden office chair, and he will start banging his beak rhythmically on it, which is a normal bird thing, especially with male birds (Precious does it too). But if I start making percussive beat boxing noises, he will keep banging his beak AND make a clicking sound AND put his wings up and dance a bit. The rhythm is shaky but it’s super cute. If he wants to get my attention, he knows I will do that with him for a while. He also likes to sing, “Boooooongo, Booooongo biiiiird,” in it sometimes, just whatever notes he feels like.

But what’s been REALLY great, is Bongo’s about to turn six, so for the last year or so he’s been transitioning to adulthood more fully. He seems to have gotten much smarter — like, quicker to understand things — and mellowed out over this time. The other week I was sick and lying in bed, really tired, but Bongo was freaking out wanting to see me so my husband brought him in the bedroom and left him on the chair I mentioned earlier. Bongo started gibbering and laughing and talking to me a bunch, which cheered me up, and I didn’t want him to feel ignored so I kept up for twenty minutes or so. Finally, though, I was just too tired, but Bongo kept talking. I tried to think of a way to explain, not really knowing if anything would work, but not wanting to upset him. When we put the birds to bed at night, we say, “It’s bedtime!” so that seemed like an option. Then he knows that “mommy” is me, plus he had started using it as an adjective — he started saying “want mommy kiss” a year ago.

So I try, “It’s mommy bedtime.” To my surprise, he stops talking abruptly, then says, “Okay.” And he stayed completely silent while I took a nap. When I woke up, he said in a bright British accent, “Hullo!”

Birds are the best.

“

—

nattie (via weeaboo-chan)

I saw an article about parrot intelligence where some jackass was going on in the comments about how birds don’t understand the human words they use and their mimicry isn’t any more impressive than those cats that sound like they’re saying “no”, we just get fooled into believing they’re intelligent because they figure out how we react to these sounds and how to use them to get what they want and it’s like dude I’m sorry but are you aware of what “language” is?

(via coelasquid)

scootinfrooty:

Roaring Mountain Poofbird by ~Canislupuscorax