lmao on the edinburgh zoo site it says “there is a daily penguin parade at 14:15 but it may be cancelled last minute as it is a voulntary parade, we do not coax the penguins with food, and they may not want to go out” lmao anarchopenguinism
this is the cutest goddamn thing i’ve ever heard
I saw the penguin parade. It was a very slow parade, because the
pingüinos take their sweet time and aren’t very fast walkers to begin with.
can I volunteer to be a penguin
I feel like the world needs to know the context of the edinburgh zoo penguin parade, becausr I’ve been going there my entire life and I only found out about this the other year.
So a while back (I can’t remember exactly when but I think it was some time around the 40s/50s), a bunch of penguins escaped. A keeper left the gate open so a bunch of penguins just… followed them. And the people loved it. Look at these adorable birds outside their cage just following that guy around! So they get all the penguins back inside and realise that none of them really ran off, they just followed the keeper and went back inside and crowd thought it was amazing, so why not make it a regular thing? Get enough people there that if one of them goes to make a run for it (which at least one has in the past), they can’t get past the people, and let the ones who want outside have a little wander. So every day, they get a crowd, they open the gate, and whatever penguins want to get out can go, waddle about, squawk at people, and then hop back inside.
Also, one of those penguins is Brigadier Sir Nils Olaf III, Colonel-in-cheif of the Norwegian King’s Guard. This isn’t really related to the parade at all, I just love the fact that there’s a penguin in the Norwegian army
The underground homes, often a
century old, are topped with gardens exploding with lush dune
grass, diamondleaf willows, and yellow wildflowers—a flash of color in
an otherwise gray landscape.
“They’re bright green and everything around them is just brown,” says Brian Person, a wildlife biologist for the North Slope Borough in Barrow, Alaska. “It pops”…
I can die happy now that I know this fact.
I am now picturing soft little foxes with watering cans and spades planting and tending to their Fox Gardens
IIRC they were made like this (with a rounded/pointed bottom, so they had to be stored lying on their sides) because if they were able to stand upright, the carbon dioxide for the bubbles would all gather in the space under the cork and, because the cork couldn’t provide a perfect seal, would gradually escape leaving the soda flat. So until really airtight bottle caps could be developed, this was a workaround; the carbon dioxide would collect in a bubble under the upper side of the bottle but couldn’t escape through the glass, so the gas stayed in the soda and it remained fizzy when you turned the bottle right side up and opened it.
This item looks exactly like a Bag of Holding, can carry an unlimited number of items. Whenever it is opened, Zethromax the Beholder is summoned for 1d4 hours.
Upon being summoned, Zethromax will first list off all of the items within the bag, along with their weight, value, and origin. After that, Zethromax will ask questions with obvious answers and criticize the people around him for not being more like him, all while constantly bragging about how great he is. Zethromax is does not obey commands, unless you ask him nicely, but even then he was commanded to do after 10 seconds. Every day at noon and midnight, he will sing a 3 minuet long song on repeat for one hour. It is the same song every time. He always speaks as loud as possible and will follow around whoever opened the bag for the entirety of the duration. He can shrink himself at will to fit into smaller spaces and is unaffected by muting spells such as silence and can be understood by any creatures that can understand at least one language. When polymorphed, he can still speak telepathically with up to 30 creatures within a 120ft radius. Upon dropping to 0 hit points, Zethromax will be instantaneously teleported to a demiplane until he is summoned again. If he is killed, he will be resurrected in 1d10 days. He will not attack unless provoked by and has the stats of a regular Beholder.
A cleric who is the Team Mom and only heals by kissing you on the forehead and buffs you by licking her thumb and rubbing away some schmutz on your face
someone’s like “you know that’s not actually required for your job” and she’s like “shhhhh my beautiful child, my healing my rules, I made you a potion, it’s chicken noodle mana”
Their holy sigil is a macaroni necklace you made in second grade. You didn’t know them in second grade. You’re not sure how they got that macaroni necklace. You ask them about it, and they just slip you a twenty and tell you to get whatever you want at the food court. “What is a food court?” you cry, but it doesn’t matter because they summoned a hero’s feast and everything tastes wonderful, and at some point you crawl into their lap to cry about something you thought you were adult enough to handle.
“This is you handling it,” they say. “You’re never too big to ask your mom for help.”
“You’re literally not my mother,” you sob.
“But metaphorically,” they say, and you’re like truuuuuuuuuu and sob a little more before they tuck you into a bedroll because you’ve got a big day tomorrow stopping an assassination at a royal palace
thisacelovesheadcanons 