I have forgotten to write about favourite tumblrs the last few weeks, so I’ll up the ante with two-in-one.
Betsy and Elizabeth, aka the Locomotive Sisters. They’re not really sisters but they should be. On most photos they both have the same hats, always those knitted hats.
Elizabeth likes the bad puns and earlier today she wrote about turtles.
Now, the latter of the two concerns the question, Why do turtles compel us to stop, whereas other animals are, at most, tolerated until they pass? What is it about the turtle that makes us risk our lives by launching from our cars to carry it a distance and point it in the direction of the nearest body of water? I mean, Stupid Squirrel v. Timorous Turtle. Like a squirrel really means to get all brazen and run in front of your car. Pfft! It’s just looking for a damn tree, and the road got in the way. Just like the turtle.
[from notes.]
Betsy draws stuff and when she writes, she writes long no matter what the subject. She calls herself a “terrible blogger” at which I scoff. It’s the quality that matters, not the quantity. Something that seems to be forgotten at large when dealing with semi-updated things on the Internet.
> we build rickety fences of i-don’t-cares and it-doesn’t-matters. by we, i mean you and me alike. (we can get splinters simply touching one another.) if this is a crime, we’re guilty every day. we punish ourselves too often and too severely for the silly crimes we commit anyway. (emotional incarceration.) we have to make up for it somewhere. we are all social criminals and it’s okay. we live on. humans are the only buildings that stand despite their missing bricks.
[from reminiscing.]
So, there you have it. Read. (Didn’t have any photos of locomotives so some train carriages will have to do.)
![I have forgotten to write about favourite tumblrs the last few weeks, so I’ll up the ante with two-in-one.Betsy and Elizabeth, aka the Locomotive Sisters. They’re not really sisters but they should be. On most photos they both have the same hats, always those knitted hats.Elizabeth likes the bad puns and earlier today she wrote about turtles.
Now, the latter of the two concerns the question, Why do turtles compel us to stop, whereas other animals are, at most, tolerated until they pass? What is it about the turtle that makes us risk our lives by launching from our cars to carry it a distance and point it in the direction of the nearest body of water? I mean, Stupid Squirrel v. Timorous Turtle. Like a squirrel really means to get all brazen and run in front of your car. Pfft! It’s just looking for a damn tree, and the road got in the way. Just like the turtle.[from notes.]
Betsy draws stuff and when she writes, she writes long no matter what the subject. She calls herself a “terrible blogger” at which I scoff. It’s the quality that matters, not the quantity. Something that seems to be forgotten at large when dealing with semi-updated things on the Internet.
> we build rickety fences of i-don’t-cares and it-doesn’t-matters. by we, i mean you and me alike. (we can get splinters simply touching one another.) if this is a crime, we’re guilty every day. we punish ourselves too often and too severely for the silly crimes we commit anyway. (emotional incarceration.) we have to make up for it somewhere. we are all social criminals and it’s okay. we live on. humans are the only buildings that stand despite their missing bricks.[from reminiscing.]
So, there you have it. Read. (Didn’t have any photos of locomotives so some train carriages will have to do.)](http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ku4z9sSzsk1qz4y57o1_500.jpg)
