Tag: for angel

nayx:

thetrashiestoftrash:

sharkbutt-groove:

here’s a compilation of different people driving box trucks into a low bridge over and over

It’s worth knowing a few fun facts, courtesy of 11foot8.com:

  • They can’t raise the bridge because it’s a train trestle, and raising it would require closing and modifying miles of busy track.
  • They can’t lower the road because it’s directly over a sewer main.
  • They can’t ban trucks entirely because there are too many local deliveries.
  • That section of road has a speed limit of 25 mph, numerous signs alerting drivers to the 11’8" limit, and recently they added a sensor that activates the stoplight and a flashing “overheight warning” sign so that drivers have to stop and think really hard about going forward.
  • The clearance is actually nearly three inches more than 11’8", the maximum deviation from the signage allowed.
  • Trucks have been getting stuck or damaged since the 1960s.

The guy who runs the website (and owns the cameras) says he sees a lot more trucks pull up to the stoplight, look at the warnings, and turn off onto the side road, but about once a month, someone hits the bridge.

why is this video so satisfying

(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)

100 word prompts – Temeraire and Snow

Temeraire normally did not care one way or the other for snow.  It did not bother him and he did not bother it.  For the most part.

Today was different though.

He snorted, sending a plume of vapor from his nostrils and surged to his feet.

Today was new.

In a flash he ran outside of his warmed and sheltered overhang, rolling and frolicking in the snow as if he’d never had a chance to before. In a way, he hadn’t.  From his birth it had been sailing and learning and war.  But today he was free.

Today he played.

bonehandledknife:

spirit-of-science:

perkwunos:

Dwarves shit huge and pee little… elves pee large and shit barely at all

Dwarves work in mines, their kidneys are in overdrive clearing all of the toxins and heavy metals they come into contact with. Their diet is mostly high efficiency foods, such as meat and fat and mushrooms. They probably don’t get a lot of plant matter in their diets.

Meanwhile elves’ diet is almost 100% plant matter (and all of the fiber that comes along with that) and their lifestyle is obsessed with fresh air, clean water, and a pure environment.

Face the facts: dwarves pee huge and shit little, and elves shit large and pee barely at all

growningupgeek:

woodelf68:

ednursey:

theoffensivemomma:

stardustandswirls:

me to the demon in the corner of my room: ain’t u got shit to do

He’d been lurking about for days now, this shadow thing. It used to scare me, terrify me straight into insomnia. But it had just stood there the whole time. Now it seemed part of the furniture, if I’m being honest.

I started talking to it. Probably not my best idea, I’ll give you that, but it’s not like I had anyone else around. I would tell it about my day as I readied for bed. Jeff was a dick at the meeting this morning. Had the best hot dog off the best cart in the city for lunch. SIX reports due by Friday? Kellen must be trying to kill me. I even wished it good night. And it just stared, with its glowing red eyes.

One night, I had to stay late at the office. Really late. Remember those six reports? They turned into fifteen. And if I didn’t get them done for this major client, it was my head on the HR guillotine. So I stayed late. I ended up crashing on the sofa in the break room and woke up to more work on my desk. That was Thursday morning. I had to get this all done by Monday.

On Friday night, around ten, I decided to go home and get some real sleep before going back to the office to finish this insane task. And then I felt it. Something was here with me and it wasn’t the janitor.

I looked in the corner and there were those eyes again, surrounded by shadow. I sighed. I really didn’t have time for this, not here.

“Ain’t you got shit to do?” I snapped, walking to the break room for yet more coffee. So much for going home to sleep.

A growling sound, then a deep, rasping voice said, “I miss you.”

I stopped. “What do you mean, you miss me? Aren’t you a demon or something?”

“You didn’t come home. I’ve been worried. What are you doing here?”

We’d never conversed like this. It was almost comforting, like a friend would be.

“I’m working, man. I’ve got a big client coming on Monday and Kellen put all these damn reports on my desk and if I don’t get them done, I’m probably gonna get fired.” I ranted as I took off my tie and ran my fingers through my hair.

The demon paused, thinking. It moved slowly around the room, taking it all in.

“Do you want me to eat Kellen?” it suddenly asked.

I laughed, “No, don’t eat Kellen. It’s not really his fault.”

“Then what shall I do?”

I sighed and considered. What could a shadow demon do to help me?

“Do you know anything about graphic design and marketing?”

It paused its roaming. “I ate an artist’s soul, once.”

“Good enough. Just sit behind me and tell me what looks good.”

On Monday morning, the company landed the client, I got a raise, and arranged it so I could work from home two days a week. We moved to a bigger flat two months later. It makes cinnamon pancakes on Saturdays.

I love this honestly

“I ate an artist’s soul, once.”

“Good enough.”

This is just wonderful