Bee Hotels for Solitary Bees
You may be wondering what bees need a hotel for, when they make their own hives. The truth is that many species of bees are solitary – the do not live in hives but instead construct their own nest. The main reason for this is because in these species every female is fertile and this would not make for comfortable communal living in a hive.
Lol cute fuzzy bee in bee hotel
PROTECT JESSICA WILLIAMS AT ALL COSTS.
She is the best.
"If a female writer had produced such an almighty mess, you can bet she’d be despised by now."
Stop praising mediocre white men for their sexist, boring works of fiction.
DC is being all gritty and “realistic” and Marvel just had a movie where the galaxy is saved by a dance-off and the power of friendship
And neither one of them can imagine a world either gritty and realistic enough or fun and fantastic enough in which a woman or a person of color is the hero.
one of them had a green woman
I was watching mean girls on nick jr and they censored the words gay and homosexual but not bitch and slut because it’s not okay to expose kids to the existence of homosexuality but it’s okay for them to hear derogatory terms for women
Happy brothers after being rescued from a circus [video]
dON’T FUCKING CRY
I’m not an excessive animal lover, but following other vegans means I see a lot of animal lover posts on my dash.
In my mind, this is like, 99% of you guys.
Oh my god this is me and everyone I know on the internet
W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming.”
I find myself thinking about Yeats’ “rough beast” a lot of late. Yeats thought a shared apocalypse was nigh. But it seems to the beast comes for us one at a time.(via fishingboatproceeds)
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t laugh at this f ucking picture