We interupt your normal tumblr service for some quality shrew noms.
YOU GUYS I CAN’T LOOK AWAY……
MINI EGGS ARE MY CRACK
I mean really though, something in them is going to destroy me. Or make me 20 stone. Either or.
If you’ve a bit of time this afternoon or tonight, I think there are many worse things to do than to consider the words and ideas of Mr. Fry for half an hour. He was asked what he wished he knew when he was 18. I think most of the time is spent talking about things corollary to the question, including the relationship of technology and tools to the creative person, social networks, goals, and more.
Dylan Moran with an exert from What It Is
“So, yes… death. When you’re young, you think about it… Well, you don’t really think about it, you know — you have the intelligence of raspberry jam — you don’t think about anything. But it’s there, as a mode of force, making you do things. Go and get a job. Go and find a flat. Find somebody else. Put them in the flat. Make them stay. Get a toaster. Go to work. Get on the bus. Look at your boss. Say, FUCK. Sit down. Pick up the thing. Go blank. Scream internally. Go home. Listen to the radio. Look at the other person. Think, WHY? WHY DID THIS HAPPEN? Go to bed. Lie awake at night. Get up. Feel groggy. Put the things on — your clothes, whatever they’re called. Go out the door, into work. Same thing. Same people. Again. It is real — it is happening to you. Go home again. Sit. Radio. Dinner. Mmmm. GARDENING GARDENING GARDENING death.”