silvan-raptor:

jenniferrpovey:

the-real-seebs:

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

cryoverkiltmilk:

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

sandstonesunspear:

thisiswhereireblogmymusic:

t-rexinavneck:

did-you-kno:

A stray dog in Bolivia joined a monastery and became a monk. The resident monks of St. Francis Monastery, named for the patron saint of animals, decided to adopt a dog they call ‘Friar Bigotón’ from the Cold Nose Project, which hopes the dog’s story will now inspire more monasteries to take in homeless pets. Source Source 2 Source 3

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@sskullsandb0nes

AKJSDFKLSD THEY MADE HIM A MONK

are we just going to ignore the fact that they named him friar moustache?

HOLY DOGE

Always reblog Friar Moustache.

“WHAT DOIN”

“We are living a life of quiet spiritual fulfillment here in this monastery”

“I HELP”

“What”

“I HELP”

I love Franciscans. They are just like that.

St. Francis is an animal saint. You can’t be a Franciscan and not love animals.

@vidoxi

insomniac-arrest:

lotrfansaredorcs:

During Boromir’s death scene in the Fellowship of the Ring film, you a hear a choir in the soundtrack. The choir isn’t singing random vowel sounds; they’re actually singing in Elvish.

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The English translation of the lyrics? It’s a line from the books: “I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only what they defend.”

For bonus hurt points– in the book, those lines were said by his little brother Faramir.

will anything go as hard as lotr like this ever again? we might never know

coffeewhiskeysleeprepeat:

coffeewhiskeysleeprepeat:

nonasuch:

empressofthelibrary:

nonasuch:

powersandplanetaries:

nonasuch:

thequantumqueer:

tygermama:

nonasuch:

batman: what’s the situation?

commissioner gordon: Harley and Ivy have hijacked an AM radio station and taken the employees hostage

batman: what are their demands?

commissioner gordon: they haven’t issued any. they, uh.

batman:

[commisioner gordon turns on the radio]

harley: —you gotta walk away, sweetie. His family sounds completely toxic, if not outright emotionally abusive, and he’s too enmeshed to see it.

caller: no, you’re right. you’re right. I gotta do it.

harley: you got this, honey. now, stay on the line a minute, I’m writing down some the names of some books for you and you can get those from Ivy after we’re done. okay! our next caller —

[commisioner gordon turns off the radio]

batman: what station is this?

commisioner gordon: WGTM.

batman: the one that rebroadcasts rush limbaugh?

commissioner gordon:

batman:

commisioner gordon: you know what, i probably didn’t need to call you for this.

I WOULD PAY MONEY FOR RADIO SHRINK HARLEY OKAY?

I WOULD CALL RADIO SHRINK HARLEY OKAY?

“alright, babe, one more reminder that my license was revoked which means i have to tell you this as your friend and not as a mental health professional: you have two options here. one of them is safe, legal, and healthy, and will have lasting long term benefits. the other one is fun.”

reblogging for this extremely accurate addition.

Ivy’s segment is where people call in to ask why their succulent is dying and she yells at them for watering it too much.

oh, VERY good

A few weeks in Selina gets dragged into it, and starts offering advice on caring for cats with special dietary needs and stuff. It inevitably turns into Jackson-Galaxy-esque explinations.

“My cat keeps attacking my feet.”

“How often do you play with him?”

“Not as much as I should, but he has a basket of toys right there where he can reach it.”

“He wants to play with you. Grab a teaser toy or a laser pointer and go nuts. He’ll wear himself out in about fifteen minutes and you can go back to work.”

great, now i actively want someone to start a podcast that’s just in-character episodes of batman villain radio shows

Instead of “be the x number caller” giveaways, they have “answer the Riddler” giveaways.  This gets slightly more complicated when Harley starts awarding the prize to the answer that is technically correct, but horribly wrong at the same time.

“What is in my pocket?”

“Lint.” 

Harley, clearly having the time of her life, “While that is NOT the answer that is totally right.”  Behind her, you can distantly hear riddler bleeding into his brain.