I showed this post to my boyfriend and he tried to take his shirt off like a girl and
uh
yeah
Out of the 82k notes my post got this is by far the best comment holy shit thank u for being u
So i tried it both ways and uh
i mean how do you do the first one without pulling out all your hair?
this made me laugh really hard….
and it made me realize that girls and boys pull their shirt off differently. /amazed
but seriously I think girls just do the cross arm thing because of HAIR like demonstrated
So one year, one URL change, and a hair cut later, I decide to try again… FOR SCIENCE!
Its not science unless you write it down so
First method:
Well done, i guess…
Second:
I fucked up
Girls… how?
I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW WE CAN HAVE SUCH DIFFERENT WAYS OF TAKING OFF SHIRTS AND SO MUCH DIFFICULTY DOING IT THE OTHER WAY
I FIGURED IT OUT!!!!!
It’s all in the way that girl/boys shirts are made.
Girls shirts have less armpit room then boy’s do and are generally shorter so pulling it off over your head is more practical because by lifting your arms all the way up you make enough room for the sleeves to just slip off.
Boys shirts have more room and are generally longer so it is easy to slip them off over your head.
but if you take a girls shirt off like a boys shirt you will get your arms caught because there isn’t much armpit space.
and if you take a boys shirt off like a girls shit you will still have your head in it when you’ve lifted your arms all the way up because of the shirt’s length.
It has nothing to do with us. It is entirely to do with how our shirts are made. I figured it out for you. YOU’RE WELCOME!
bless you
look what is back on my dash. Jesus.
This came back but with ACTUAL SCIENCE you are the saviour of our generation
It’s been a while since we checked in on how the Renaissance is doing with its ocean mysteries, so here is a marine biology update circa 1550.
Seals come in two forms:
Buff
& Triangular
Walruses are horrifying
But whales are worse
Fish can have human faces
but not always where you’d expect
As for the rest
… it’s probably better left alone.
[All images except chest face fish from Historiae animalium liber IV : De piscium & aquatilium animantium natura. Chest face fish from The noble lyfe & natures of man of bestes, serpentys, fowles & fisshes yt be moste knowen]
Number five seemed to be the most popular, so here’s a snippet from that:
This is not the throne room in Tirion.
Or, rather, it is, but it’s the throne room as he remembers it, not the throne room he was recently shown after his release from the halls of Mandos. Fingolfin can’t help but relax a bit. It’s a dream or a vision of some sort, surely, but it’s a comforting one.
He smiles at the faces he sees around him. Some of them are still in Mandos. Some he has hesitated to speak to. But now here they all are, disturbed by whatever politics are current today, but blissfully safe.
And there is his father, on the throne.
Fingolfin’s breath catches.
The familiar words, the words that have haunted his dreams, roll down. The issue at hand: Feanor’s desire to leave Valinor and his words against the Valar.
Fingolfin knows his part. He knows what he is supposed to say. He is supposed to call for the restraining of Feanor and to disparage Feanor’s loyalty to their father. He is supposed to drive in the final wedge. He has had this dream before.
He waits a moment for the words to come forth against his will, but nothing happens. His father’s eyes merely remain fixed on him.
Fingolfin has many words he would say to his brother – yes, brother – and more than a few might be unkind, but he has to admit that his long ago remark had been unjust. Feanor’s loyalty to the Valar is questionable at best, but having seen him grieve their father, there can be no doubt about Feanor’s honor and loyalty to him.
He had wondered, on the Ice, what might have happened if he hadn’t said those words. If he had offered any other, lesser, insult. If he had kept his own counsel. If, if, if.
So he says instead, “I have heard much rumor about my brother’s views on these matters, but I confess that we have not spoken plainly of the matter face to face. I would be sure I know his views fully before I respond to them.”
And then Feanor strides in, dressed for war, or at least the closest approximation Aman raised elves could imagine.
The fire of his brother’s words is nearly irresistible, but Fingolfin does his best to resist anyway. He can only afford to lend half his attention to Feanor’s words. The rest he must devote to figuring out how he will respond.
If this is a dream or a vision, it might not matter, but –
He can feel his bond to his wife, as of yet unstrained. He can feel the power of Feanor’s words as an almost physical force. He can see a crack in the floor that he does not think he ever noticed before.
It occurs to him that this might not be a dream, and if there is any chance it is not, then it matters.
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