WRENCH
He tumbled
Cotton-tailed ass over steaming tea kettle
All the way down the rabbit hole
Until there was nothing left to do but to hit the bottom

But the bottom refused to come
Thus proving that holes can be deeper than you think
And the temperature got a bit hotter
Showing that things can always get worse as well

Still he tumbled
Past not safe for work images
And recipes for things he had no hope of making
With impossible makeup tips for good measure

Until a weighted rescue rope of dubious length suddenly reached his paws
Which he naturally grabbed on to with a relieved sigh
Then being pulled up all that unlikely way
Through the bottom of the farmer’s bubbling pot
Safely back into the hasenpfeffer stew

He tumbled

Cotton-tailed ass over steaming tea kettle

All the way down the rabbit hole

Until there was nothing left to do but to hit the bottom

But the bottom refused to come

Thus proving that holes can be deeper than you think

And the temperature got a bit hotter

Showing that things can always get worse as well

Still he tumbled

Past not safe for work images

And recipes for things he had no hope of making

With impossible makeup tips for good measure

Until a weighted rescue rope of dubious length suddenly reached his paws

Which he naturally grabbed on to with a relieved sigh

Then being pulled up all that unlikely way

Through the bottom of the farmer’s bubbling pot

Safely back into the hasenpfeffer stew

The relaxing art of jet engine maintenance.

The relaxing art of jet engine maintenance.

How many of you are awake right now?
One or two or ten?
As my eyelids grow heavy
And sight retracts to a slit
I know that I almost am surely not
Not awake
Not asleep
But somewhere in the middle
With movements paralyzed
Aware but not able to move
This torturous unawake sleep state that I’m in

It’s a human rights violation
A horror
A sin

How many of you are awake right now?
One or two or ten?
As my eyelids grow heavy
And sight retracts to a slit
I know that I almost am surely not
Not awake
Not asleep
But somewhere in the middle
With movements paralyzed
Aware but not able to move
This torturous unawake sleep state that I’m in

It’s a human rights violation
A horror
A sin

Good morning!

Good morning!

One of our female mechanics, working it on a CFM-56 jet engine core.

One of our female mechanics, working it on a CFM-56 jet engine core.

preciousandfregilethings:

ratak-monodosico:
early Leica


Boy do I love old cameras. I have a few neat old Kodak folding cameras. Though they are just knicknacks at this point. Anyone using film out there still?

preciousandfregilethings:

ratak-monodosico:

early Leica

Boy do I love old cameras. I have a few neat old Kodak folding cameras. Though they are just knicknacks at this point.

Anyone using film out there still?

I’m seeing the Venice level of Tomb Raider in this photo.

I’m seeing the Venice level of Tomb Raider in this photo.

Sometimes it’s just soothing to burn things.

Sometimes it’s just soothing to burn things.

An MD-11F aircraft being painted in our hangar 7.

I will revisit next week when it is more complete.

I can’t catch my legs,
When rolled into a ball

I can’t catch my legs,
Magician sawed me in half

I can’t catch my legs,
Train is dragging them behind

I can’t catch my legs,
Since the aliens probed me

I can’t catch my legs,
I’m too busy eating them

I can’t catch my legs,
They’re running much too fast

I can’t catch my legs,
When rolled into a ball

I can’t catch my legs,
Magician sawed me in half

I can’t catch my legs,
Train is dragging them behind

I can’t catch my legs,
Since the aliens probed me

I can’t catch my legs,
I’m too busy eating them

I can’t catch my legs,
They’re running much too fast

Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

Some things are better left unsaid. (via poppyflowerpoetry)

Poppyflowerpoetry so beautifully written

When you walked in the room
My brain exploded in expletives and innuendo
An internal case of tourettes
Out of control until you were out of sight

Afterwards I’m left drained and panting
As if I’d run a marathon
Or like we’d had sex
Though perhaps a few rounds in the ring is more accurate

I’ll never know

I’m running away from you

When you walked in the room
My brain exploded in expletives and innuendo
An internal case of tourettes
Out of control until you were out of sight

Afterwards I’m left drained and panting
As if I’d run a marathon
Or like we’d had sex
Though perhaps a few rounds in the ring is more accurate

I’ll never know

I’m running away from you

the-pursuit-of-grandeur:

I drive by your house every night

Okay not the one you live in.

I mean the one where we left our innocence plastered to the tops of any surface that could support even an ounce of the affection our bodies could never contain

I am not one for nostalgia but,

I remember the way the floors groaned…

Good shit

listoflifehacks:

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incidentalcomics:

Conflict in Literature

incidentalcomics:

Conflict in Literature