This Is Art. A Masterpiece, Actually.

Buying a car

English added by me :)

TMA Encore #1

Hoping I get around to continuing this. Had it rattling around in my head ever since halfway through season 3, and suddenly the finale inadvertently validated it as a possibility. Christmas came early!

Edit: I am continuing it! And I’m gonna reshade this page to match later pages, so look forward to that.

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An Incomplete List of the Animals my Grandpa brought home over the course of his 67-year marriage to Gandma:

Annabell, a solid white and completely deaf pit bull that used to let mom draw on her belly

The World’s Ugliest Tom Cat, who turned out to be the cuddiest teddy bear of an animal

Cocker spaniel named “Captain”

Stupid, the Cat

Litter of baby raccoons

Three more cats

A completely bald and extremely anxious canary that sang beautifully, but only at 4 AM

Baby Squirrel that grew up in the house and then refused to move out

A Genuine Thoroughbred Racehorse who was a spectacular athelete but had a habit of running races in the wrong direction.  Benny turned out to be a terrific trail horse instead.

Turtle

Snapping Turtle

A bucket full of 43 goldfish left over from the fair.  Mom counted once they were all in the bathtub in the backyard with the snapping turtle.

Another cocker spaniel named “Major”, who had the tremendous talent of eating green beans silently

Red-tailed hawk he found on the highway, and sucessfully nursed back to health and released.

Dummy, Son of Stupid

Strange, the dog that lived under the porch and only came into the house at night.

An “abandoned” baby deer.

Spooky, an alleged dog.  

Joey the parakeet whose tricks were  1. drinking tea out of a tiny cup 2. threatening to peck out people’s eyes 3. wearing hats

A Really Big Toad he found behind the factory, because the other auto workers were discussing using it for target practice.  Mr. Grumpity was guardian of the rosebed for several years and granny’s (his mother) favorite animal he ever brought home.

Gretchen, a St. Bernard that had to be shaved from her prior owner’s neglect, and spent a week hiding from sight with such success in the house that they thought she’d run away.

Arson, Burglary and Murder, three frankly adorable little kittens.  They did not change the names, much to the regret of the cop who lived three doors down.

Yet another Cocker Spaniel, named “Colonel”

Cardinal (bird)

Canada Goose (Demon)

Once in the nursing home, he had a “pet” 12-point whitetail buck that would come to his window to be fed corn and get headskritches, inexplicably named “Florence”

The marriage only ended because thier time on earth did. He never kept an animal Grandma wouldn’t allow and if anything she was worse about it. She was the one who brought home a tarantula.

Reupload from twitter and ao3

Possibly the first time I drew Cody and the clones in a doodle....then somehow blew up into an eye-searingly pastel colored comic.

I think I intended this to be Scariff’s beach, but yeah, I suppose this is now whatever planet with beaches and agressively touchy-feely gigantic locals

another

Storage is the defining problem of our age. Two hundred years ago, our ancestors had fifteen or twenty things in their houses, max. And one of them was "bed." Now, we have a lot of clutter. Sure, it's down from the peak of the 1970s, when we needed thirty-six different pieces of electrical equipment just to listen to racist people in our general area, but we still have too much stuff.

Self-storage companies have exploded. Not literally, although that did happen to the one near me from some dude cooking shatter, but they are immensely profitable. If you receive a bunch of heirloom furniture from Crazy Aunt Ethel, you won't have enough room for it in your single bedroom basement apartment. You shove all of it into a self-storage bay, and keep paying the monthly bills, waiting until you can have a house big enough to place some heirloom furniture in.

The storage companies know this. They'll give you a low "sucker" rate at the start, and then start cranking up the fees. And you'll keep paying them. It's cheaper to kick in $5 more a month, than it is to ask your friend Ted to borrow his pickup truck so that you can drive all your shit across town to a competing storage unit, who will do the exact same thing.

How do you fight back, ideally without having to throw away a bunch of coffee tables from 1953 and incurring the eternal wrath of Aunt Ethel's shade? You have to let the storage unit make money for you. The obvious way is electricity. With electricity, you can run all kinds of things, from a seedy cryptocurrency mining operation, to an illegal online betting parlour. And the storage folks know this, which is why they don't provide power to your unit, and wrap the unit's lightbulb in an impenetrable steel cage. They are used to dealing with your average, run-of-the-mill cheap scumbag.

Don't let that stop you: despite what your neurochemistry is telling you, you are an exceptional cheap scumbag. You don't need their electricity; you can generate your own. The answer? Rats love running on little hamster wheels. You can make thirty, forty cents a month, per wheel. That's money in your pocket, and all it will cost you is a bit of expired cheese and a lot of old Subaru blower motors. Sure, it's not going to be great for any couches or clothing that you leave in the unit, but who ever heard of a heirloom sofa bed? Throw that shit out, ideally by leaving it in a unit and no longer paying the bill. You don't need to cling to memories: you're rich now, atop your rodent power empire.

I know it’s not hard to point out reactionaries hypocrisy when it comes to like safe spaces or hug boxes or whatever but genuinely how much of an echo chamber do you have to exist in for you to think this is a reasonable thing to say

When you learned of the god of war, you thought he’d be tall and muscular and angry. When you were about to meet him, you braced yourself for the worst.

You weren’t quite expecting the short, scrawny, shy kid you ended up getting instead.

a compilation of people getting nerfed by MAG160

This is just Sharon and witch hunters that’s all this is just an otherverse skeptic

ghost hunting team that keep a nonbeliever named steve around as an emergency supernatural suppressant