August 31st
 The vermine is a small black and white furry creature, much famed for its pelt. It is a more careful relative of the lemming; it only throws itself over small pebbles. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140831 @ 1800
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 It was a winter of portents. Comets sparkled against the chilled skies at night. Clouds shaped mightily like whales and dragons drifted over the land by day. In the village of Razorback a cat gave birth to a two-headed kitten, but since Greebo, by dint of considerable effort, was every male ancestor for the last thirty generations this probably wasn’t all that portentous. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140831 @ 1200
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 Winter in the Ramtops could not honestly be described as a magical frosty wonderland, each twig laced with confections of brittle ice. Winter in the Ramtops didn’t mess about; it was a gateway straight through to the primeval coldness that lived before the creation of the world. Winter in the Ramtops was several yards of snow, the forests a mere collection of shadowy green tunnels under the drifts. Winter meant the coming of the lazy wind, which couldn’t be bothered to blow around people and blew right through them instead. The idea that Winter could actually be enjoyable would never have occurred to Ramtop people, who had eighteen different words for snow. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140831 @ 0600
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August 30th
 Enough inspirations to equip a complete history of the performing arts poured continuously into a small heavy skull designed by evolution to do nothing more spectacular than be remarkably resistant to axe blows. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140830 @ 1800
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 Particles of raw inspiration sleet through the universe all the time. Every once in a while one of them hits a receptive mind, which then invents DNA or the flute sonata form or a way of making light bulbs wear out in half the time. But most of them miss. Most people go through their lives without being hit by even one. Some people are even more unfortunate. They get them all. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140830 @ 1200
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 There was plenty of flat ground in the Ramtops. The problem was that nearly all of it was vertical. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140830 @ 0600
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August 29th
 A year went past. The days followed one another patiently. Right back at the beginning of the multiverse they had tried all passing at the same time, and it hadn’t worked. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140829 @ 1800
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 Back down on the plains, if you kicked people they kicked back. Up here, when you kicked people they moved away and just waited patiently for your leg to fall off. How could a king go down in history ruling a people like that? You couldn’t oppress them any more than you could oppress a mattress. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140829 @ 1200
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 ‘Well, being assassinated is natural causes for a king,’ said Granny. ‘I don’t see why he’s so sheepish about it. When old Thargum was killed they stuck his head on a pole, had a big bonfire and everyone in the palace got drunk for a week.’ 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140829 @ 0600
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August 28th
 

‘It’s a tortoyse,’ said Magrat. ‘I bought it down in Sheepridge market. It’s incredibly old and knows many secrets, the man said.’

‘I know that man,’ said Granny. ‘He’s the one who sells goldfish that tarnish after a day or two.’

 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140828 @ 1800
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 Every flat surface was stuffed with ornaments brought back by far-travelling members of the family. Sons and grandsons kept the logpile stacked, the roof shingled, the chimney swept; the drinks cupboard was always full, the pouch by her rocking chair always stuffed with tobacco. Above the hearth was a huge pokerwork sign saying ‘Mother’. No tyrant in the whole history of the world had ever achieved a domination so complete. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140828 @ 1200
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geekgirlfibers:

scitchet:

missknotty:

niisantaniiputa:

hellabitcoins:

aliwav:

listen you boutta have the thickest smoodie of all time, where is your liquid? your ice? weak ass aesthetics, try again

smh they leave the strawberry tops on… might as well leave the gotdam banana peels on

Hahahahahahaha for real tho

There’s water in the pitcher…

Also, banana peals are packed with nutrients. I always throw some into a smoothie.

Does that have much effect on the taste?

Not that I’ve noticed.  I’ll throw orange peel in too if I’m using them.  I don’t put in the whole peel, ‘cuz I’m not sure anyone needs that much fiber…

geekgirlfibers:

scitchet:

missknotty:

niisantaniiputa:

hellabitcoins:

aliwav:

listen you boutta have the thickest smoodie of all time, where is your liquid? your ice? weak ass aesthetics, try again

smh they leave the strawberry tops on… might as well leave the gotdam banana peels on

Hahahahahahaha for real tho

There’s water in the pitcher…

Also, banana peals are packed with nutrients. I always throw some into a smoothie.

Does that have much effect on the taste?

Not that I’ve noticed.  I’ll throw orange peel in too if I’m using them.  I don’t put in the whole peel, ‘cuz I’m not sure anyone needs that much fiber…

(Source: vthevegan)

20140828 @ 0920
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 Nanny Ogg didn’t care much about what people knew and even less for what they thought, and lived in a new, knick-knack crammed cottage in the middle of Lancre town itself and at the heart of her own private empire. Various daughters and daughters-in-law came in to cook and clean on a sort of rota. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140828 @ 0600
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August 27th
 

‘And the child? He was given to the witches? Do they do human sacrifice?’

‘It would appear not,’ said the duke. The duchess looked vaguely disappointed.

 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140827 @ 1800
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 The duke had managed quite well for fifty years without finding a use for curiosity. It was not a trait much encouraged in aristocrats. He had found certainty was a much better bet. However, it occurred to him that for once curiosity might have its uses. 
— Terry Pratchett (Wyrd Sisters)
20140827 @ 1200
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