just because my subject matter's dead doesn't mean my sense of humor is...
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neilnevins:


hectorsalamanca:

Panda researchers in China wear panda costumes to give mother-like feeling to a lonely baby panda who lost her mother [x]

without context it looks like some guy disguised himself as a panda so he could sneak into their panda community and now he’s making a quick getaway with the baby panda

neilnevins:

hectorsalamanca:

Panda researchers in China wear panda costumes to give mother-like feeling to a lonely baby panda who lost her mother [x]

without context it looks like some guy disguised himself as a panda so he could sneak into their panda community and now he’s making a quick getaway with the baby panda

(Source: lalondes, via amanmangor)

roughhewnends:

di grumpy cat [25/?] 

Alec Hardy can’t determine what pulled him towards that Norwegian Beach.
After Danny Latimer’s murder, he was ordered to take a holiday. Ellie had gone with her father to Spain with the boys till the trial was over, the department had placed him on medical leave or, rather emphatically, threatened him with suspension until his heart was healthy again. Dr Davidson told him he needed to get away for a while; escape and relax. ‘Find a corner of God’s earth and let it heal you. You know how it is; you put things off for a day and next thing you know, it’s a hundred years later. And I’ll tell you this Hardy, you keep living the way you are and you won’t have a hundred days.’
So he walked into a Dorset Travel Agency and picked the first opening to anywhere but Broadchurch. He had always wanted to see Scandinavia.  No he didn’t know the language. Nor did he know anything else about the country except what the little 5 Quid book the agency had on sale told him. But it was immediate. It was his escape.  immediately.
The Locals told him his second day there about the bay. Darlig Ulv Stranden. “Bad Wolf Beach” one tried in a weak attempt of an English Translation. Apparently it was a must visit part for the particular part of the country he was in. Something hidden, something magical about the beach. He didn’t believe in magic, but what could it hurt?  Maybe a foreign beach would ease him into the ones of home. Put him in a place where he could see the sand and not picture a body there. 
The third morning he rose early and watched the sunrise over the rain drenched sand, the waves crashing into the rocks as the wind blew his hair all sticky-uppy. The smell of the sea casting a spell of calm he hadn’t known since his wife’s affair. 
He stayed there standing. Compeltely at peace until he felt eyes staring at him. He opened his eyes and turned his attention to his left. There, a few meters off, stood a woman in a blue jacket. Her shoulder length blonde hair billowing in the wind. She stared at him dumbfounded. As though he was out of place, only in the most pleasant way. She began coming towards him. Walking at first, but then running briskly towards him. A smile plastering itself on her face as her voice in very clear, very native English cried out,
"Doctor"

roughhewnends:

di grumpy cat [25/?] 

Alec Hardy can’t determine what pulled him towards that Norwegian Beach.

After Danny Latimer’s murder, he was ordered to take a holiday. Ellie had gone with her father to Spain with the boys till the trial was over, the department had placed him on medical leave or, rather emphatically, threatened him with suspension until his heart was healthy again. Dr Davidson told him he needed to get away for a while; escape and relax. ‘Find a corner of God’s earth and let it heal you. You know how it is; you put things off for a day and next thing you know, it’s a hundred years later. And I’ll tell you this Hardy, you keep living the way you are and you won’t have a hundred days.’

So he walked into a Dorset Travel Agency and picked the first opening to anywhere but Broadchurch. He had always wanted to see Scandinavia.  No he didn’t know the language. Nor did he know anything else about the country except what the little 5 Quid book the agency had on sale told him. But it was immediate. It was his escape.  immediately.

The Locals told him his second day there about the bay. Darlig Ulv Stranden. “Bad Wolf Beach” one tried in a weak attempt of an English Translation. Apparently it was a must visit part for the particular part of the country he was in. Something hidden, something magical about the beach. He didn’t believe in magic, but what could it hurt?  Maybe a foreign beach would ease him into the ones of home. Put him in a place where he could see the sand and not picture a body there. 

The third morning he rose early and watched the sunrise over the rain drenched sand, the waves crashing into the rocks as the wind blew his hair all sticky-uppy. The smell of the sea casting a spell of calm he hadn’t known since his wife’s affair.

He stayed there standing. Compeltely at peace until he felt eyes staring at him. He opened his eyes and turned his attention to his left. There, a few meters off, stood a woman in a blue jacket. Her shoulder length blonde hair billowing in the wind. She stared at him dumbfounded. As though he was out of place, only in the most pleasant way. She began coming towards him. Walking at first, but then running briskly towards him. A smile plastering itself on her face as her voice in very clear, very native English cried out,

"Doctor"

(via gallifreyburning)

ukinusa:

Entitled ‘Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red’, this huge and evolving art installation has seen the dry moat of the Tower of London filled with ceramic poppies to remember those who fought in the First World War 100 years ago. At the launch event, the Band of the Welsh Guards (pictured) played ‘Hymn to the Fallen’ and songs from the First World War. Click here to read more.
[Photo by Sergeant Steve Blake RLC, Crown copyright]

ukinusa:

Entitled ‘Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red’, this huge and evolving art installation has seen the dry moat of the Tower of London filled with ceramic poppies to remember those who fought in the First World War 100 years ago. At the launch event, the Band of the Welsh Guards (pictured) played ‘Hymn to the Fallen’ and songs from the First World War. Click here to read more.

[Photo by Sergeant Steve Blake RLC, Crown copyright]

therealultrabaguette:

essegigi:

daftwithoneshoe:

harleys-hyenas:

daftwithoneshoe:

Am I the only one really bothered by the fact that the strawberry and the blackberry are touching?

Let them touch, they don’t get to often because of their tragic forbidden love.
Long ago, two Elder berries got into a fight, the tribe split in two, the strawberries against the blackberries. Now, new passions arise between the new generation - could this be the end of the feud or will it just fan the flames? 

Two flavors, both alike in sweetness In fair Verona, where we lay our scene From ancient cold break new freezer burn Where civil juice makes civil fruits unclean


Did you just turn gelato into Shakespeare. 

therealultrabaguette:

essegigi:

daftwithoneshoe:

harleys-hyenas:

daftwithoneshoe:

Am I the only one really bothered by the fact that the strawberry and the blackberry are touching?

Let them touch, they don’t get to often because of their tragic forbidden love.

Long ago, two Elder berries got into a fight, the tribe split in two, the strawberries against the blackberries. Now, new passions arise between the new generation - could this be the end of the feud or will it just fan the flames? 

Two flavors, both alike in sweetness
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene
From ancient cold break new freezer burn
Where civil juice makes civil fruits unclean

Did you just turn gelato into Shakespeare.
 

(Source: royalinterior, via twogirlsonemajor)

"That’s the thing about Hogwarts. No matter how long you’re away from it, there’s always a way back."

Diana, Princess of Wales

July 1, 1961 - August 31, 1997

(Source: ravishingtheroyals)

(Source: aconitemoon, via holdonthyway)

A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.

You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.

A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.

You are in a garden, and you are astonished.

  • World: Why are you attacking Ukraine?
  • Putin: Wha... Oh, no those soldiers are just on vacation. Yes, vacation.
ww1incolour:

greatwarincolour:

Five Australian troops survey the destruction after battle of Passchendaele - Chateau Wood, Belgium on 29 October 1917Original image source: State Library of New South Wales, Taken by James Francis Hurley

Amazing Colourization!

ww1incolour:

greatwarincolour:

Five Australian troops survey the destruction after battle of Passchendaele - Chateau Wood, Belgium on 29 October 1917

Original image source: State Library of New South Wales, Taken by James Francis Hurley

Amazing Colourization!

(via asyayay)

mapsontheweb:

Map Posted on Twitter by Canada’s NATO Delegation with the caption “Geography can be tough. Here’s a guide for Russian soldiers who keep getting lost & ‘accidentally’ entering #Ukraine”

mapsontheweb:

Map Posted on Twitter by Canada’s NATO Delegation with the caption “Geography can be tough. Here’s a guide for Russian soldiers who keep getting lost & ‘accidentally’ entering #Ukraine


Soldiers of the King 

 I heard my country calling, away across the sea,Across the waste of waters she calls and calls to me……I hear the noise of battle, the thunder of her guns,I haste to thee my mother, a son among thy sons.

Soldiers of the King 

 I heard my country calling, away across the sea,Across the waste of waters she calls and calls to me……I hear the noise of battle, the thunder of her guns,I haste to thee my mother, a son among thy sons.

(Source: jackclegg3.webspace.virginmedia.com, via bantarleton)