Cram them full of non-combustible data.

Izzie. 20. Queer as a three dollar bill. My hair is a hot mess 900% of the time. Cute babies are my weakness.

Anonymous asked: What's your major in college?

morosity:

stress

fatopus:

demontadark:

kedreeva:

8bitrevolver:

This was meant to be a quick warm up, but it turned into a comic that I’ve wanted to draw for a while. This is something that is extremely important to me, and I appreciate it if you read it.

A while ago, I heard a story that broke my heart. A family went a cat shelter to adopt. The daughter fell in love with a 3-legged cat. The father straight up said “absolutely not”. Because he was missing a leg. That cat was that close to having a family that loved him, but the missing leg held him back. Why?!

Many people have the initial instinct of “nope” when they see an imperfect animal. I get it, but less-adoptable does NOT mean less loveable. 9 out of 10 people will choose a kitten over an adult cat. And those 10% that would get an adult cat often overlook “different” animals.

All I want people to do is be open to the idea of having a “different” pet in their lives. Choose the pet that you fall in love with, but at least give all of them a fair shot at winning your heart.

Don’t dismiss them, they deserve a loving home just as much as any other cat. They still purr, they still love a warm lap, they still play, they still love you. Trust me, next time you are in the market for a new kitty, just go over to that one cat that’s missing an eye and see what he’s all about!

Let me tell to you a thing.

This is Lenore. I first saw her in a little cage at the Petco I frequent (I used to take my parents’ dog in for puppy play time), and she looked like the grouchiest, old, crotchety cat in the world, and I fell instantly in love. She was cranky, she was anti-social, hanging out at the back of her cage. Her fur was matted because she wouldn’t let the groomers near her.

She was perfect.

But I didn’t have a place for her. I wasn’t living in my own space yet, and where I was, I wasn’t allowed cats. So I pressed my face to the bars of her cage and I promised that if no one had adopted her by the time I’d bought a house, I would come back for her.

I visited her every week for over six months while I looked for a house. At one point, they had to just shave her entire rear-end because the mats or fur were so bad. They told me she clawed the heck outta the groomer that did it, screamed the entire time, and spent the next two days growling at anyone that came near the cage.

A couple of weeks later, I closed on my house. I went back and I got an employee, and I said: “That one. I need that cat.”

They got the paperwork and the lady who ran the rescue that was bringing the cats in told me that Lenore (at the time, Lila) was 8 years old, had been owned by an elderly lady who had died, and brought in to a different rescue, who’d had her for six months on top of the time I’d been seeing her at Petco.

This kitty had been living in a 3x3’ cube for over a YEAR because she was older and “less adoptable.”

I signed the paperwork, put her in a cat carrier, and drove her to my new home. I had pretty much nothing; a bed, an old couch, a couple of bookcases, and a tank of mice I called “Cat TV”. I let her out of the carrier and onto my bed, and I told her “I told you I would come back for you when I had a place. It’s not much, but it’s yours too now.”

Lenore spent the next three days straight purring non-stop. She followed me around the house purring. Sat next to me purring. Slept next to me purring. Leaning into every touch, purring, purring, always purring. She still purrs if you so much as think about petting her. She’s amazing, and I love her.

So, you know, if you’re thinking about adopting, and you see a beast that others consider “less adoptable,” think about Lenore.

IM CRYING I LOVE CATS FUUUUCK

This is beautiful ❤️

(via some--human)

We can’t jump off bridges anymore because our iPhones will get ruined. We can’t take skinny dips in the ocean, because there’s no service on the beach and adventures aren’t real unless they’re on Instagram. Technology has doomed the spontaneity of adventure and we’re helping destroy it every time we Google, check-in, and hashtag.

Jeremy Glass, We Can’t Get Lost Anymore 

i’m so sick of seeing people trash this generation for no other reason than that things aren’t the way they used to be. there’s this constant vitriolic stream of people snarling that selfies, check-ins and blogs are the death of culture, and i am bored of it.

the human desire to record and document experience is hardly new. without that urge we wouldn’t have art, music, dance, theatre. the world of electronics evolving around that to give us an even broader scope of options to preserve our unique view of the world and share it with others is a beautiful thing. despite a legion of cynical naysayers constantly shouting otherwise, i’ve not actually become immune to earth’s beauty or my own experiences in it. stop being terrified of change and development and calling it profound.

(via thekatediary)

Last line bolded for emphasis

(via fedoraharp)

Additionally, I’m not losing my sense of adventure every time I Google something, I’m feeding my thrist for knowledge. I have easy access to the most information that humanity has ever amassed, and you want me to not use that? Because let’s be real, my ancestors who had a “sense of adventure” were actually far more restricted in their travel. I can travel more widely and more cheaply than any point in human history, and you’re trying to imply that my “sense of adventure” has died because of the very technology that has made that possible?

Actually, how about this: my “sense of adventure” is tempered by the responsibilities and anxieties I carry far more than Google or check-ins or hashtags. My “sense of adventure” is tempered by the money I have (or rather don’t have) in my bank account. My “sense of adventure” is tempered by what society has taught me about traveling alone at night. My “sense of adventure” is tempered by the fact that a girl from my high school went on an adventure and ended up murdered, and whose family is still seeking justice because of the negligence of the local police department. My “sense of adventure” is the same as my ancestors’ “sense of adventure,” and it not this nostalgic retelling of history. 

And how many of these naysayers have actually taken a trip like Steinbeck or William Least Heat-Moon? How many of them have jumped off a bridge? How many of them feel free to benefit from iPhones and Google and cell service and Instagram, but then criticize younger generations for taking full advantage of the world around them?

We can’t jump off bridges anymore because it’s against laws passed by older generations. We can’t take skinny dips in the ocean because it’s against laws passed by older generations, and adventures aren’t a reality for us because they often cost more money than we have. Technology has made travel more cheap and widespread than ever, and we helped destroy it when we weighed an entire generation down with the responsibilities of another.

(via theladyem)

(Source: her0inchic, via all-in-red-ink)