also folks pls dont msg me apologizing for ‘spam liking’ or ‘spam reblogging’ especially if you’re new to Tumblr because I promise you artists/writers love that shit on here. It’s not annoying, it’s great and you’re doing fine sweetie
also i’ve had my dash notifications turned off for 4 years, so spam like/reblog to your heart’s content. I am telepathically handing you a bowl of sliced fruit
I'm so sorry what have I done
I honestly cannot find words for how much I hate this (affectionate)
“I didn’t think nothin’ of it. Thought it was just a seed.”
“Deep breath”
I SWEAR TO THE FUCKIN GODS…..
(cue 25 minutes of unintelligible yelling)
….and that is why being separated from our food’s origins and not knowing anything about botany is what is wrong with the world today goddamnit.
I bet some people would eat castor beans too. Or yew. Or just fuckin’ snack on some hemlock because it’s natural, man.
Fucking incredible.
LIKE IT TAKES SOME FUCKING EFFORT TO GET A CHERRY PIT OPEN FUCKING W H Y
Question: Is it the same with plums? I used to do that occasionally when I ate dried and seasoned Asian plums as a kid.
Yes.
Plum pits do not contain as much as cherry, but they do.
Do not eat stone fruit pits, people. Or bitter almonds.
They all have cyanide in them.
Oh boy, apricot kernels. The amount of people I see lauding those as a “cure for cancer” is… demoralizing. I can’t find it right now but I believe there was a mother in the past few years who was taken to court for child endangerment/neglect for feeding those to her very young child as a cancer treatment.
I saw this horror last year, and yelled for an entire hour.
To be fair, I bet if you die of cyanide poisoning the cancer won’t kill you.
I have been wanting to use these photos for months.
The recommendation is to only eat 3 in one hour. because that is just the most filling snack and of course they will stop at three.
But then they say DON’T EAT MORE THEN 10 A DAY.
It’s not even FDA approved. “may be toxic”.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Just because it’s natural doesn’t mean it’s good for you.
Just because it’s food for another creature doesn’t mean it’s fine for you.
Best case scenario it’s like grass which is basically neutral- it’s generally not going to kill you but there’s no nutrition for humans in it, and enough will probably make you sick.
Worst case scenario it’s something like belladonna berries which taste sweet but will kill you stone cold dead.
Same for the wrong kind of mushrooms, other berries, leaves and barks. Before consuming, CHECK. If you can’t check, don’t put it in your mouth.
I’ve been saying this for so long, oh my gosh.
^^As a toxicologist, I approve this message.
God, anyone else remember when everyone understood that the correct feminist position about sports was that women should be allowed to compete with men because they're just as capable? When it was a trope in media to have the mysterious star athlete who just blew everyone else out of the water to take off her helmet and reveal that she was a woman the whole time?
Now people are rabidly arguing that supposed "men" (trans women) have inherent insurmountable biological advantages in literally every single possible activity and cis women are too weak and dainty and unskilled to ever compete and must be protected, and then they try to call themselves feminists who are being silenced as if that's not just the mainstream sexist patriarchal opinion
Anyway, desegregate sports. There was never any reason to separate them by gender in the first place
I had the most ridiculously awkward interaction with the UPS delivery guy the other day. Allow me to paint a picture.
He rings the doorbell and I’m still in bed so I grab my phone and pull up the app for my security cameras, intending to speak to him through the mic. I open my mouth and attempt to say "Just a minute". I have failed to account for the fact that I currently have laryngitis. Out of my mouth comes some sort of inhuman hiss/honk hybrid and the delivery guy snaps his neck around to stare at the camera like one might stare at a snake that just dropped from the ceiling two inches from your face.
After a pause that felt like eons he says, “I can’t hear you, sorry.” I scramble out of my bed, yanking on a pair of pajama pants and tossing a robe over my shoulders in the hope that it might make me look a little less like a feral animal who has just been dragged out of hibernation.
It doesn't work.
I show up to the door with my hair doing its best impression of Albert Einstein and a red robe halfway over my shoulders, constantly on the verge of falling off due to the fact that I had failed to put either of my arms into the sleeves. As I push the door open I scoop up my cat, Steven, in a haphazard football carry so that he won’t bolt outside and with my free hand I hurriedly type a message on my phone.
“Sorry, I lost my voice.”
I hold it up so he can read it.
The delivery man squints at the phone.
"Oh, ok," He responds.
He offers me a pad to sign.
“I’m just going to need your signature.”
Steven squirms.
My brain short-circuits.
For some reason known only to God I casually toss my phone over my shoulder. It lands on the hardwood floor with a thunk that will probably still be echoing when the world ends.
He looks at me.
I do not look at him, but I feel his eyes on my head.
I stare at the pad.
He snorts the briefest laugh.
I sign the pad.
“Have a nice day,” He says.
I open my mouth to reply.
I wheeze.
