On The One Hand, Wario's Employees Account For Something Like 85% Of The Female Characters With Recurring

you know what, I’m not done posting about baby bats!!!

here is a fact for you: rescued baby bats are regularly given little blankets and swaddled up like itty bitty bat burritos! this is a whole Thing

Oh, and sometimes they get tiny pillows!

And they get fed out of teensy baby bottles!

They are even given mini bat pacifiers to nurse on 💕

in conclusion, here is a baby bat yawning:

BABY BATS!!!

idk. too many people drive like they don’t realize (or care) that they could die and/or kill someone. as a result of the way they are driving. sorry if i sound lame or ancient i just feel insane witnessing the lack of concern on a regular basis. The vehicle you are in is thousands of pounds going many miles an hour. do you know this

I have been thinking a lot about what a cancer diagnosis used to mean. How in the ‘80s and ‘90s, when someone was diagnosed, my parents would gently prepare me for their death. That chemo and radiation and surgery just bought time, and over the age of fifty people would sometimes just. Skip it. For cost reasons, and for quality of life reasons. My grandmother was diagnosed in her early seventies and went directly into hospice for just under a year — palliative care only. And often, after diagnosis people and their families would go away — they’d cash out retirement or sell the house and go live on a beach for six months. Or they’d pay a charlatan all their savings to buy hope. People would get diagnosed, get very sick, leave, and then we’d hear that they died.

And then, at some point, the people who left started coming back.

It was the children first. The March of Dimes and Saint Jude set up programs and my town would do spaghetti fundraisers and raffles and meal trains to support the family and send the child and one parent to a hospital in the city — and the children came home. Their hair grew back. They went back to school. We were all trained to think of them as the angelic lost and they were turning into asshole teens right in front of our eyes. What a miracle, what a gift, how lucky we are that the odds for several children are in our favor!

Adults started leaving for a specific program to treat their specific cancer at a specific hospital or a specific research group. They’d stay in that city for 6-12 months and then they’d come home. We fully expected that they were still dying — or they’d gotten one of the good cancers. What a gift this year is for them, we’d think. How lucky they are to be strong enough to ski and swim and run. And then they didn’t stop — two decades later they haven’t stopped. Not all of them, but most of them.

We bought those extra hours and months and years. We paid for time with our taxes. Scientists found ways for treatment to be less terrible, less poisonous, and a thousand times more effective.

And now, when a friend was diagnosed, the five year survival odds were 95%. My friend is alive, nearly five years later. Those kids who miraculously survived are alive. The adults who beat the odds are still alive. I grew up in a place small enough that you can see the losses. And now, the hospital in my tiny hometown can effectively treat many cancers. Most people don’t have to go away for treatment. They said we could never cure cancer, as it were, but we can cure a lot of cancers. We can diagnose a lot of cancers early enough to treat them with minor interventions. We can prevent a lot of cancers.

We could keep doing that. We could continue to fund research into other heartbreaks — into Long Covid and MCAS and psych meds with fewer side effects and dementia treatments. We could buy months and years, alleviate the suffering of our neighbors. That is what funding health research buys: time and ease.

Anyway, I’m preaching to the choir here. But it is a quiet miracle what’s happened in my lifetime.

🤫 Shh…wanna hear a secret? The secret toadhead agama (Phrynocephalus mystaceus) has one. Growing about 9 in (24 cm) long, this wide-ranging species inhabits deserts in parts of Asia. When confronted by predators, like birds of prey, it can open its mouth to deploy brightly colored cheek flaps—shocking foes with a sudden change of appearance! If that doesn’t work, this reptile can also rapidly bury itself in the sand, disappearing from view. 

Photo: Leonid A. Neymark, CC BY-NC 4.0, iNaturalist 

Behold the pocket-sized western pygmy possum! (Cercartetus concinnus). One of the world’s smallest possums, this species typically weighs just 0.5 oz (14 g)—the size of an AA battery. This dainty marsupial is a nectarivore, meaning that its diet consists primarily of plant nectar. It inhabits treetops in forests throughout parts of Australia, using its long prehensile tail like a fifth limb as it moves from branch to branch.

Photo: gilliank, CC BY-NC 4.0, iNaturalist

mole interest