How come period pieces are almost always dramas, anyway? I want to watch a sitcom about a dude in renaissance-era Tuscany trying to get rich quick by scamming the local merchant princes.

I’m still waiting for Amici, the sitcom about Augustan poets…

What I want is a Late Republic legal procedural. The leads are a young, ambitious orator (who probably has a conscience and definitely isn’t Cicero), and his long-suffering secretary who happens to be a genius detective. Together, they mostly fight corrupt provincial governors (provided, of course, that it’s politically advantageous). 

I will consign this if and only if they regularly end up e.g. pulling out all the stops in court to get their client off even though they know he did it–but forging the will protected the honor of a Vestal and restored to his rightful inheritance a younger son who had been unjustly disinherited, so it’s morally justifiable. 

Guys. BLACKADDER. Four seasons, set respectively in the Middle Ages, Elizabethan Era, Regency, and World War I. Brilliant, hilarious, and occasionally poignant.

(I mean, we should have more historical sitcoms for sure. But BLACKADDER.)

This unearthed a buried memory from the days of yore, 1999.

“Thanks“ was a sitcom about early puritans in Boston Plymouth. It lasted 6 episodes and then everyone promptly forgot about it.

























“I can’t be vegan, I love cheese”

Dairy industry is as evil as meat. No less harm for animals. Does it look natural that calf can’t drink milk so you can taste your piece of cheese? 



That calf is wearing a nose tag. Nose tags are put on calves so that they are able to stay with their mothers longer, but are unable to nurse. They don’t NEED to nurse as they get older, they just get greedier and pushier and will bash up the cow’s udder and bruise it with their noses.

This nose-tag is so that calves can stay with their mothers, their mothers can remain pain-free and healthy, and nobody is stressed.

Educate yourselves you ignorant fucking tarts.

…really? You don’t think it might have anything to do with the milk being stolen for human consumption? At all? Not even a tiny bit?

Militant vegans can fuck right off

Based on fur texture and face shape, that calf is at least six months old, probably older.  Calves can survive without actual cow milk even at three months, though older is better (calves weaned that early are usually fed a sort of formula for another couple months).

Also, nose tags like that one don’t go through the cow’s septum.  They basically work like those fake septum rings for humans.

In addition to weaning the calves, another use for nose tags is protecting non-lactating cows.  Sometimes weanlings or even adult cows will suck on themselves or other non-lactating cows; this can cause internal teat scarring bad enough to prevent that teat or teats from ever working.  I’ve seen this happen, and it’s ugly, probably at least somewhat painful, and, if bad enough, would lead to the cow being slaughtered at a very young age because she can’t produce milk, has chronic mastitis, and/or can’t be milked with automatic milking equipment.  So, nose tags actually prevent animal cruelty.

Also, calves will suck on anything remotely oblong (and attempt to eat literally anything), even if they are being adequately fed or overfed.  Often they will suck on other calves’ ears, and, since ears are longer than teats and cows have upper as well as lower teeth in the back of their mouths, many calves get bites on their ears, which often become severely infected.  I’m not sure if nose tags would work there, because physics—a non-toxic but bad-tasting ear paint would be better—but yeah, letting a calf put anything it wants in its mouth is not always a good idea.

reblogging for educational purposes.

reblogging for people being schooled

This was the funniest argument about false cruelty I have read.. Thank you. 

I love this for 2 reasons: Most people don’t realize that in farming areas agriculture/horticulture/animal husbandry is part of public school education from as early on as 7th grade. (Though I remember dissecting cow eyes in 4th grade science sooo) I assure you fifteen year old farm kids know more about what constitutes animal cruelty in farms than thirty year old vegans with, or without an agenda. 

Also that if you really want good quality beef/pork/eggs/milk/etc you don’t abuse your animals. Ever. That’s not the point and if you want to make any kind of money off your career choice, you are going to treat those creatures better than you treat yourself. You’ll call a vet five times for an infection in your herd before you visit the hospital for a missing foot on your own leg. 

So. Yeah. Watch out, because we’re getting internet access these days. We’re on tumblr too. 

P.S. The immigrant workers farming your supermarket produce have no health care or legal protection, and the Bolivians farming your 365 Organic Quinoa can’t afford to eat it. But PLEASE won’t someone think of the poor baby cows who won’t get off the tit?!

Also this is a LOT nicer than what mother cows do to calves that won’t be weaned. You know what mother cows do to calves that won’t wean? kick them in the head. Now I don’t know about vegans, but I’d rather have a nose tag that discouraged me from injuring my mother (because calves that don’t wean tend to chew on udders and make mother cows bleed) rather than being kicked in the head.
Source: I grew up on a fucking cattle ranch. I have seen chickens skeletonize a mouse I KNOW SHIT.

“I have seen chickens skeletonize a mouse I KNOW SHIT.”

I’m sorry, what? What??? WHAT??? you can’t just leave it there please explain @thehornedwitch

Happy to explain!
See, chickens are omnivorous. They eat bugs, plants, and meatstuffs. Y’know how crows and ravens and things eat meat? Well, chickens too. Ours had a particular fondness for ham when someone accidentally put it into the bucket of good scraps we set aside for the chickens. A bucket we tried to keep as meat-free as possible, because few things are more terrifying than a chicken looking you in the eyes as it scarfs down ham.
Anyway, back to the mouse.
One day i was doing Chicken Chores, like gathering eggs, putting out grain, emptying the bucket of greens, etc, when a mouse runs across the pen.
All at once, eight or so chickens stop dead, look at it, and SWARM.
Now I’m six at this point in time and developing a healthy fear of chickens, and so do nothing.
By the time the chickens are done, all that is left of the mouse is its bones. I left the chicken pen very, very quickly.
Chickens crave meat. They were dinosaurs. They did not forget that they were dinosaurs.
They will also cannibalize each other with reckless abandon. Sometimes we just had to remove one chicken to its own private pen away from the others because no matter what we did, that specific one always tried to eat the other chickens. We had one that really liked other chicken’s eyes. Bear in mind, our pens ensured each chicken had about five to six square feet all its own if you managed to space every chicken out evenly, we never locked them in teensy pen things, and fed them LOTS. These chickens just really, really wanted to maim.
Chickens that are not Buff Orpingtons are the devil. Buff Orpingtons are sweethearts. If you must have chickens, have that kind. And never get Guineas. Guineas are SATAN INCARNATE. THEY SMELL FEAR.

Holy shit, I dont think I’ll ever use chicken as an insult again. 

Holy Shit, same here that is terrifying

Will I’m using it as a compliment

I love farm animals.

“Chickens crave meat. They were dinosaurs. They did not forget that they were dinosaurs.”

If you’ve ever looked a chicken in the eye you know that they don’t just remember; they’re patiently awaiting the day they become dinosaurs again. 


I have reblogged this before because watching farmers school vegans is always hilarious, but now we’re into birds, specifically fowl, and I have got stories.

I had to give my turkey an antibiotic injection once upon a time, and she turned the needle puncture into a six inch by three inch hole in her back overnight as she attempted to eat herself because apparently turkeys find themselves to be delicious. She had to spend 3 months duct taped into a tea towel (the bandages underneath cleaned and replaced daily, mind you) until it healed because she would not stop ripping the bandages off to continue consuming herself.

Your chickens strip a mouse to the bone? Mine draw and quarter them and run around with the parts shrieking. My peacocks grab mice, beat them to death on the ground with this insanely fast back and forth head twisting motion, and then swallow them whole. You would not think an entire adult mouse would fit in their face, and you would be wrong.

I knew a guy that used to regularly post photos of the 5-6′ long Copperhead snakes his peafowl would destroy. And I don’t mean kill, I mean destroy. These venomous snakes would get into the pens and the peas would just peck them into oblivion like nbd.

Fowl didn’t just used to be dinosaurs. They are still dinosaurs.

Thankfully they are small dinosaurs

and we can just tape them into tea towels if we have to

BEGGING for a Jurassic Park reboot where farmers run the place instead of brogrammer scientists, and the raptors frequently get scolded and taped into tea towels

squid’s laws of fic (not inclusive)






first law: write the fic you wish to see in the world aka goddammit do I have to do everything myself around here

second law: it’s going to be longer than you think. much longer. hahaha so long. why are you crying 

third law: the time spent writing is inversely proportional to the amount of smut present, dammit

fourth law: flesh out your secondary characters. make them real people. have them take over. oh god. put them back. somebody please help 

fifth law: the time spent researching canon is directly proportional to the amount of time you’ll spend altering your plot. that one person on the internet 

sixth law: the time spent researching in general will eclipse the time you spend writing. the nsa agent monitoring your internet search history is curled up in a corner. his boss wants to know if you’re a threat. “I don’t know,” the agent sobs. “I just really don’t know.” 

seventh law: at some point, someone will ask what your favorite hobby is. you will feign a heart attack to get away

eight law: cultivate your fannish friends, because someday you will need to know bedroom layouts in fifteenth century Estonian villages or the lyrics to that 80s garage-band song you heard twice, and Google will have nothing.

ninth law: there’s always room for a sequel. ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE DIED. Just don’t think about it. NO! WHAT DID I SAY? PUT THE IDEAS DOWN!

tenth law: write your ideas down. write them down. Write them down. Write. Your. Ideas. Down. WRITE THEM DOWN BEFORE THEY WRITE YOU DOWN.

Eleventh law: Edit. You know that paragraph you wrote at 4 am and found yourself sleeping on top of the next morning? You know you loved it when you wrote it, but go back and look at it. What is this? What does this mean? Be prepared to write the same story two or three times over in this process.