She is very happy! She's still around to celebrate her birthday, even if she isn't human anymore.
I am working on asks, but a lot of my asks are lore posts I wanna make small comics for. Work and life has been killing my motivation, eugh. Also writing more shorts for the au.
thinking abt mary's storage locker from 14x11 (an episode that aired on dean's bday btw) and how the combo to her storage locker is 1-24-67. the wiki says it's 1-24-79 but the screenshot from the ep shows the last two numbers are actuall 67 like, uh, the impala year. which just makes it even more of a deancoded number imo. like that would be dean's passcode of everything tbh
anyways feeling emo abt mary's go-to numbers being her first born's bday and the impala's year
TIARA ALERT: Crown Princess Mary of Denmark wore her Wedding Tiara for the gala dinner celebrating Prince Christian of Denmark's 18th birthday at Christianborg Palace on 15 October 2023.
non-Angela Bassett related post but my husband and I fell back into the Battlestar Galactica rabbit hole on Mary McDonnell’s birthday without realizing it.
I completely forgot this happened on the show, but it’s just brilliance on top of brilliance. Happy Birthday, Mary!
thank you, @bestbuddybobby for pointing out it’s her birthday because i literally had no clue
God I fucking hate Tanya von Degurechaff so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every piece of propaganda she's in, every photo, every parade, every video, she's got this painfully serious, annoying as shit, fuckass blank look on her stupid fucking face. Absolutely no part of her ugly as sin piece of shit appearance is endearing. Her stumpy fucking legs? How the hell is someone that fucking short. Her dumb little silver wings medal? Her shitty, round bastard face? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking ANTENNAE that no person in her company has EVER FUCKING TRIED TO FIX FOR HER IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate her. I hate her so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a White Silver toy or a propaganda poster or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little war criminal into the fucking sun. "tee-hee! I'm Tanya, the White Fucking Silver, I like war crimes". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like a shithead little brat. Your dumb fucking antenna hair makes your whole shitty head look like an unkempt street cat. I hate your dumb fucking little button nose and your stupid, stern blue eyes and your over-the-top no-nonsense hardass asshole personality. Any time she smiles it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know she's just a single fucking child soldier in a giant fucking empire’s army, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether a tiny piece of a greater evil. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing propaganda utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate her. I hate her on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Tanya the Evil is, for all intents and purposes, a single facet of the army subjugating the world- a propagandized pawn distilled into the single, hateable form of a shining ideal soldier for every other imperial scumbag to emulate. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate her so much. I hate her so, so fucking much. I want to light her ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat her to death with the butt of the gun she stole off my father. I want to punch her to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that her existence as a war hero is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this sinful child
Pioneering paleontologist Mary Anning was born #OTD (21 May 1799 – 9 March 1847). Let's also take a moment to appreciate her beloved dog companion, Tray:
1. Detail from Denise Dutton's 2021 Mary Anning statue at Lyme Regis (love the little detail of the ammonite in the ear!)
2. Detail from the original portrait painting of Anning by an unknown artist, before 1842, now at Natural History Museum, London
3. Sketch by Mary! Part of her personal papers, now held by Natural History Museum, London.