elodieunderglass:

luritto:

halfbaked-alchemist:

HI 

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I am the potoo

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I spend most of my time sitting on the edges of tree branches, 

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pretending to be a stick or dead leaf

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it’s not as easy as it looks

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I sing virtually exclusively around the period of the full moon

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because, according to legend,

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I am a mournful spirit in love with the spirit of the moon

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@elodieunderglass please appreciate this fine beast

ah yes, the potoo. a highly appreciated creature. 

nest:

at my job we have to go through a training program that teaches us the library of congress classification system, and when i was first being trained my boss started to boot it up and she gave me a really anxious and guilty look and said “listen, i’m really sorry in advance, there’s nothing i can do about this, just…. just try to get through it” and i was like lol what’s she talking about and then the program loaded and i was greeted with a deliriously funny-looking photoshopped wizard with glowing eyes pointing at some intro message like “AH YES, JUST AS THE PROPHECY FORETOLD… APPRENTICE, YOU COME AT A TIME OF MOST DIRE NEED… YOU MUST LEARN OUR WAYS” and my boss just looked at me helplessly and was like “i’m so sorry. it’s like two hours long.”

thankfully it wasn’t an elaborate fever dream and i have found screenshots

‘Canadians would be shocked’: Survivors describe treatment at Nanaimo Indian Hospital

allthecanadianpolitics:

Sharon Whonnock’s first childhood memory is being transferred from her home in northern Vancouver Island to Nanaimo Indian Hospital in the early 1950s, where she said she spent nearly a decade tied to a bed for almost 24 hours a day while being treated for tuberculosis.

The Kwakwaka’wakw woman spent about nine years there, and the remaining memories of what happened to her at the second-biggest Indian hospital in Canada are vivid. She said they haunt her still.

Through the glass partition between beds, she said she could see other children also being tied and untied.

“The only time we were untied was first thing in the morning to have a bath and then change our pajamas and go back to bed,” said Whonnock, who is now 72.

She said the ties were also taken off for meals they ate in the bed. If they needed to use the bathroom, they were brought a bedpan.

Whonnock recalled a time when she had chickenpox and was served turnips. The smell made her ill and she threw up on her plate. A nurse hit her with a rod and made her eat the vomit.

When Whonnock finally left the hospital, walking was difficult, because she hadn’t used her legs much all those years.

Continue Reading.

‘Canadians would be shocked’: Survivors describe treatment at Nanaimo Indian Hospital