#my blighty pets | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blightowl · 2 months

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My cat Staňa BOOPING YOU

#boop #boop o meter #my blighty pets #Staňa the cat #she was the sweetest of cats

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muddiestpath · 1 year

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Tagged by @juniper-sunny

Are you named after anyone? No, just a plant. Kinda a joke based on my birthname, both were picked by my mum half-seriously & stuck.

When was the last time you cried? A don't remember, but out of frustration for relying on my family members for water & food when I'm stuck in bed.

Do you have kids? no & never. I'd be ok if a partner wants/has kids but I couldn't co-parent, just be an awkward uncle.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yes, it is a compulsion at this point, there is no thought process involved.

What's the first thing you notice about people? Colours they're wearing, & if they have tattoos/piercings/dyed hair.

What's your eye color? Black

Scary movies or happy endings? Monsterfucking with happy endings for the protag & their monster, not anyone else.

Any special talents? Interrupting an important moment in the show the family is watching by asking for food via walkie talkie. Predicting my family's behaviour. & very good colour vision despite bad overall eyesight.

Where were you born? England (blighted ol' blighty)

What are your hobbies? Making OCs, drawing, RPing, watching video deep dives, casual gaming & very recently writing/reading. I also cross-stitch & knit when I can. Occasionally closet cosplay my OCs when I need a boost.

Have you any pets? Two pensioner rabbits: Madam(10) & Juke(8)

What sport do you play/have you played? I used to swim pretty good, cycling, darts & tennis but not competitive.

How tall are you? 5'3" & shrinking

Favorite subject in school? Was geometry, then Design & Technology(workshop?). ICT was easy for me but never latched onto.

Dream job? Prop design/Set design. Something in Comics. Or custodial/groundskeeper.

tagging: anyone who reached this point!

#tag game #Long post #.mudd

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sohannabarberaesque · 1 year

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Some headcannons off the top of my head

Picture Snorky from The Banana Splits realising his hidden dream of playing theater organ in concert, even if it sometimes means relying on his trunk to get at the higher ranks of the keyboard.

Autocat, ever frustrated at attempting to catch Motormouse, seeking to drown his sorrows in rather awful-tasting coffee from as seedy an all-night cafe as it can get. And the coffee in question isn't even spiked with chicory or dandelion root, common coffee additives in certain quarters.

So much for Ritz crackers, Vimto or Stoned Wheat Thins: Breezly Bruin contributes some of that Alaskan staple, Sailor Boy Pilot Bread, to many a cheese-and-cracker party ... and many a Hanna-Barbera Funtastic actually wonders how pilot bread manages to taste, to begin with, especially with some sharp Cheddar and summer sausage of Wisconsin origin.

Those Skatebirds actually managing to have fried chicken tenders, and eat them sans silverware. Especially dunked in dipping sauce such as sweet and sour, marinara, barbecue, ranch--or even Daddie's Sauce from England.

And speaking of Daddie's Sauce (which, aside from Amazon or such online stores specialist in British groceries for the homesick, can sometimes be found at retail here in America), you have to wonder if Doggie Daddy is an unlikely fan of that classic from Blighty replete with malt vinegar, tamarind, raisins, dates and spices ... and whether such rubs off on that ever-doting son of his, Augie Doggie.

Could it be that Mr. Peebles (as in Peebles' Pet Shop, home to that simian albatross of a pet known as Magilla Gorilla) may actually be from Peebles, Ohio, which was famous in its day for an annual tent Chautaqua? (Which, technically, to the Scots way of thinking, would render his last name "Peebles of that Ilk.")

When it comes to that romantic pull between Captain Caveman and Taffy, what was perchance the most satisfying example of lovemaking between the two in the most unlikely of scenarios?

#hanna barbera #headcannons #random thoughts #fanfic prompts #hannabarberaforever

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hypotheticalwriterquestions-blog · 6 years

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I have a new character for my WIP!

His name is Koukatsu, and he’s a kitsune. He’s Hitomi’s pet, and she often has him shapeshift to play tricks on people for their mutual amusement.

I have to go to bed now (it’s gone midnight here in Blighty), but if you have any questions about him, just drop them in my asks and I’ll answer them tomorrow!

Also, please be aware that I literally just created him, so I don’t know an awful lot about him yet. But that’s okay! Improvising to answer your questions will actually help me to know more about him.

Nighty-night~ ^_^

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outtolunchtmblr-blog · 6 years

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White Winter Hymnal

Over the last few days, Britain has experienced, when compared to our norm, quite heavy snowfall. Roads have been closed, snowmen man street corners and the pavements are saltier than an anchovy milkshake. But even more interesting than seeing what desperate snow puns the tabloids can press onto the front pages is something that my brother said to me. He pointed out that in weather like we’re having, at least in this country, people are forced back to simpler time. This notion, of course, does not apply to places like Scandinavia or North America, where they are more than prepared both personally and industrially for the winter months. As most of us on this island, however, experience snow at yearly intervals for a few days in February, we pay no attention to what tyres are on our cars or where the best sledding spots are. This means during these few days every year, things strangely become simpler. People are friendlier and there is a stronger sense of community. We push stranger’s cars up hills, the futile revolutions of their wheels filling us with lesser-spotted 21st century empathy. Kids play outside instead of staring at screens. And your boss doesn’t chew you out for being 37 seconds late.

I found that I was less anxious in the snow. The opacity of the white sky was calming in the same way a towel over the pet carrier calms a cat on the way to the vet. The weather was a welcome break from the monotony of England’s grey, less grey, grey cycle. During those days, my expectations of others and theirs for me, were more relaxed and it allowed me to get back to basics. I didn’t bother to worry about anything that was going to happen post-“#snowmageddon” (my favourite and most nationally-embarrassing of all the twitter hashtags that were trending in blighty), I just worked out how I’d get to work and if the supermarket was going to have had any blue milk delivered by the time I was on my way home.

The experience of those few days which was, overall, enjoyable, made me question weather (pun-intended) there was anything about the personal simplicity of it all, that I could apply to my life after the snow had melted. I think there is a strong argument for stripping things back in one’s personal life. I know I often feel overwhelmed by things that are meant to have made life simpler, and the almost obsessive future planning that has been bred into us. The by-product of which is, simply, neglect of the present moment. The cold front gave me a break from being a passive viewer of my life and allowed me to connect with now for a brief time. I think humans tend to take themselves and their existence too seriously, I know I do. Trying to apply meaning to things and myself where there probably isn’t any, and there’s peace in that. My expectations were abridged during the snow. I paid no mind to where my life was headed. It was cold outside, and I was warm, that was enough for a moment.

#blogger #bloggersgetsocial #bloggerlife #ontheblog #writers block #writerlife #written word #spilledink #wordgasm #creativewriters #mental health #ocd #snowday #snowgate #snowmageddon #student

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annamcnuff · 7 years

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Back On Track: Cycling The Pacific Coast Highway

I did something unthinkable this week. Something so against the fibre of my very being that it makes me shudder to even say it. Come in close, because I’m going to whisper it… I got a bus. In fact, I got two buses. Faced with a choice between a shorter inland route directly to Reno (meh) or getting back on the original planned coastal route via San Francisco (wahoo) - I opted for the latter. And, rather than drill myself with 100 mile days to catch up, I came over all sensible. Fancy that?

THE OREGON COAST, AT LAST

From Portland I threw Boudica on a bus South to Eugene, where it was just 66 miles to the coast, I hopped off and did what the Pet Shop Boys told me to do. I went West. To the coastal town of Florence.

I’d been looking forwards to meeting The Pacific for over a week now, and in my head it was to be a spectacular affair. Dashing ocean views, sunshine, Highway 101 sweeping dramatically close to cliff tops - perhaps even a light spattering of fireworks. Alas, when I found the 101 it was foggy, spitting (not even real rain) and I couldn’t see head nor tail of the ocean. Had I ridden the wrong way?

It had been an early start, and I decided that I at least deserved pancakes and so rolled into a little cafe. There I met Dave and Ron, who, clearly bedazzled by the Pink bike, asked me to pull up a pew. They shouted me brekkie with a side order of conspiracy theory chat and Ron shared his ‘rule of thumb’ (complete with amputated thumb, naturally). “Be patient, or become a patient he said.” With that I was gone. Down highway 101, past the insanely beautiful and quite surreal Oregon Sand dunes and on the 50 miles to catch bus number 2.

THE COASTAL EXPRESS

Bus number 2 'The Coastal Express’ was a bit of a gamble. It was the kind of bus who’s website was in different sized Comic Sans, included a photo gallery of 'Mike at the wheel’ and as you waited in the car park of the local supermarket, you weren’t entirely sure if it was going to turn up at all. But sure enough, a little 12 seater mini van eventually rolled into view. Once aboard, I was catapulted into the slipstream of someone else’s life. It stopped to drop passengers off at their homes, everyone seemed to be called Randy or John, and they all greeted each other with knowing questions: “How’s Linda doing?” “Did your Mom come down to visit in the end?”. It made a fascinating ride. I could see Boudica bobbing safely around on the rack at the front, and I enjoyed listening to the locals patter to while away an hour down the coast.

I got off the bus with just 20 miles to ride, to finally catch up Lydia and a third friend of ours, Laura. It was getting dark, and I was determined to make it. I started down the road with a gritted determination. Suddenly 'booooooofffff!’ - my back tyre exploded, leaving behind a big hole.

OOOO OFFICER

As if by magic (I’m honestly not sure where he came from) a Highway Patrol officer appeared. “You okay there mam?”. I babbled something about the back tyre and a bus and in true McNuff’ll-Fix-it-herself style “Oh I’ll be okay, I have Gaffa tape.” Then I stopped. And thought. Actually, this sort of is his job. And I was losing light. So I accepted his offer to throw my bike in the boot of his patrol car and drive me to town.

The poor bloke. I’m sure he regretted his decision within about 5 seconds. He relayed something rather official into the radio back to base “Um this is 90214, niner, we have an 1148, chaperone to the shoreline RV park for drop off, and return to post, over”. Well. How exciting I thought. And then I noticed all the pretty lights on the dashboard. And it began. The kid in the candy store was unleashed:

“What does this do?” One word answer. “Ooooo. And this?!” Silence. “What’s an 1148? Am I an 1148?” Two word answer. Silence. “So… Are you into sports?” “No, not really mam” “Oh. Well. You must go to he gym or something - you look like you pump iron….” Wow. I actually just said that.

He finally dropped me off 20 miles down the road with a smile and a nervous wave. I’m not entirely sure he thought I hadn’t escaped from the local mental asylum.

CALIFORNIA - NOT WHAT YOU’D EXPECT

The California coast is so very very different from how I imagined it to be. And I love that. I’ve seen nothing of the white sandy beaches, endless sunshine and abundance of beautiful bodies that Arnie likes to tell us about on tourism commercials. I think all of that business happens south of San Francisco. Northern California, is rugged, foggy, damp and windy. For the most part the sands are dark and the currents of the ocean too dangerous to take more than a quick dip. At one point, as the route left the coast and entered farmland, I turned to the girls and said “I love this, it reminds me of home.” I’m not sure if it was the whiff of cow turd in the air, the terrible road surface, the drizzle or the rolling fields, but something just screamed of England. Ah Blighty. How I miss thee so.

REDWOODS AND THE SONOMA COAST

California is nothing if not varied. The Redwood National Parks in the North are mystical places. Even more so when caked in a thick fog. We rode for miles along the 'Avenue of the Giants’, clad in high vis jackets, surrounded by some of the biggest tree-beasts I’ve ever seen. Each one watching over us like old grandfather time himself. I thought about the things they must have seen in the 800 years they’d been standing. If trees could talk…

But the Sonoma coast took the bicycling biscuit for me. Route 1 is one of those car commercial roads - a baby smooth surface that wiggles its way round cliffs, in and out of coves and even takes you up above the cloud line. At one point we were riding with our faces only a few metres from soaring birds of pray. It. Was. Epic.

Finally, slowly but surely we began to see more and more people on the roads. We met the 'weekend warriors’ on their way out from San Francisco as we descended into the city ourselves. Rounding the final bend and seeing the Golden Gate Bridge come into view made my lil heart skip a beat. It’s only a bridge. But when you’ve seen something so many times in pictures, to arrive there having travelled (mostly) under your own steam, makes it just that wee bit more emotional.

We’re exploring the city for a few days now before heading to the desert, and state number 5 - Nevada. It’s going to be hot like the sun out there, and there’s some big passes to climb. I cannie wait.

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blightowl · 1 year

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ATTENTION!!!