thedaddycomplex: Pregnancy magazine’s latest issue tackles brewing a baby from dad’s perspective and, no, they didn’t fill it with stories of idiot fathers who can’t change diapers. They got real dads to share their real experiences. It features lots of rad stuff, including a multi-page spread on How To Be A Dad’s book The Guide To Baby Sleep Positions as well as a little story from yours truly… which is tucked near the back of the issue. Reblogging this from my parenting Tumblr because, hey, look, I’m on newsstands now! (Note: I am not that guy on the cover.)
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thedaddycomplex:

Pregnancy magazine’s latest issue tackles brewing a baby from dad’s perspective and, no, they didn’t fill it with stories of idiot fathers who can’t change diapers. They got real dads to share their real experiences.

It features lots of rad stuff, including a multi-page spread on How To Be A Dad’s book The Guide To Baby Sleep Positions as well as a little story from yours truly… which is tucked near the back of the issue.

Reblogging this from my parenting Tumblr because, hey, look, I’m on newsstands now! (Note: I am not that guy on the cover.)

gallifrey-feels: earthgirldonna: feferipixies: the-fandoms-are-cool: everythingis19: cosmicsyzygy: Look, I made a gif of this most awesome wizard at the Leaky Cauldron! DUDE IS READING ‘A BRIEF HISTORY OF TIME’ BY STEPHEN HAWKING I NEVER REALIZED are you serious I always assumed wizards just ignored science, because the fact that “magic” exists, can explain anything. But there are MuggleBorn wizards, ones who, until they were eleven, lived in the real world and learned science and things. Did they all just abandon that normal, muggle knowledge, like Harry did? It’s always been there, itching in the back of my mind. FOUR FOR YOU SCIENCE WIZARD YOU GO SCIENCE WIZARD can we point out that he’s doing wandless magic too like voldemort couldnt even do that shit molly fuckin weasley couldnt fuckin do that who are you pretty sure this whole series has been about the wrong wizard guys Plot Twist: He is able to do wandless magic because his comprehensive understanding of quantum physics means that he is the only wizard/witch to actually understand how magic works. Science wizard. SCIENCE WIZARD!
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gallifrey-feels:

earthgirldonna:

feferipixies:

the-fandoms-are-cool:

everythingis19:

cosmicsyzygy:

Look, I made a gif of this most awesome wizard at the Leaky Cauldron!

DUDE IS READING ‘A BRIEF HISTORY OF TIME’ BY STEPHEN HAWKING

I NEVER REALIZED

are you serious

I always assumed wizards just ignored science, because the fact that “magic” exists, can explain anything. But there are MuggleBorn wizards, ones who, until they were eleven, lived in the real world and learned science and things. Did they all just abandon that normal, muggle knowledge, like Harry did? It’s always been there, itching in the back of my mind.

FOUR FOR YOU SCIENCE WIZARD

YOU GO SCIENCE WIZARD

can we point out that he’s doing wandless magic too

like voldemort couldnt even do that shit

molly fuckin weasley couldnt fuckin do that

who are you

pretty sure this whole series has been about the wrong wizard guys

Plot Twist: He is able to do wandless magic because his comprehensive understanding of quantum physics means that he is the only wizard/witch to actually understand how magic works.

Science wizard. SCIENCE WIZARD!

(via distractedbyshinyobjects)

Source: cosmicsyzygy

How the Vista XG Sedan Ruined Henry’s Life (Part 6, Final) Saturday morning, Oswald did not bite him, which is why Henry woke not 20 minutes late, but rather two hours late for his meeting with the honchos from Kenner. The dog feebly licked the nearby dust ruffle of the couch, although he would’ve much rather gnawed on Henry’s thigh, perhaps his forearm. Henry tried to leap up in a rush, but succeeded only in lumbering to his feet. His neck screamed at him to stop moving. “Honey?” he called. The house offered no reply. He wandered out the door, no briefcase, one foot still bare and unable to move his head from side to side. Upon his arrival at the office, Lawson fired him. He said, “The Kenner reps were very displeased with the report, which apparently included a number of doodles of waffles and sandwiches.” Henry opened his mouth to explain himself, but Lawson hammered on. “Reynolds was a big potential client and your antics sent him skittering off to Marcum & Associates. And really, that’s just the last in a long list of offenses. Your proficiency rate has plummeted, your appearance is unbecoming and unprofessional and, I’m no expert, but I think you might have scurvy.” Weak and disoriented, instead of carrying out the off-white box of photos and files from his desk, he accidentally walked out with the off-white box containing the new fax machine. As he made his way to the elevator, he wondered why his squishy stress ball and “Is It Friday Yet?” mug, which he made for himself at the booth at the mall last year, were so heavy. He made it as far as the lobby where a scrawny building security guard named Howie detained him until the police arrived and arrested him for corporate theft and industrial espionage. After posting bail, he returned home and ate Oswald. The dog was a bit stringy, but didn’t taste bad when dressed with the fast food packets of horseradish. His stomach flopped with giddy nourishment and his dizziness shifted from one of disorientation to one of euphoria. There was a rattle at the door as the mailman dropped another postcard through the slot. Henry swayed in place for a moment before his muscled reacted to his brain’s command to move. He crossed to the door erratically and scooped it from the floor. This one sported a picture of a large lumberjack statue. Across the top, yellow letters announced simply Phoenix, Arizona. His eyes adjusted slowly as he read the note scrawled on the back. It read, Shane and I are headed for Mexico. They’ll never catch us alive, not with this V6! P.S. Leftovers are in the freezer. The end. All installments.
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How the Vista XG Sedan Ruined Henry’s Life (Part 6, Final)

Saturday morning, Oswald did not bite him, which is why Henry woke not 20 minutes late, but rather two hours late for his meeting with the honchos from Kenner. The dog feebly licked the nearby dust ruffle of the couch, although he would’ve much rather gnawed on Henry’s thigh, perhaps his forearm.

Henry tried to leap up in a rush, but succeeded only in lumbering to his feet. His neck screamed at him to stop moving. “Honey?” he called. The house offered no reply. He wandered out the door, no briefcase, one foot still bare and unable to move his head from side to side.

Upon his arrival at the office, Lawson fired him. He said, “The Kenner reps were very displeased with the report, which apparently included a number of doodles of waffles and sandwiches.” Henry opened his mouth to explain himself, but Lawson hammered on. “Reynolds was a big potential client and your antics sent him skittering off to Marcum & Associates. And really, that’s just the last in a long list of offenses. Your proficiency rate has plummeted, your appearance is unbecoming and unprofessional and, I’m no expert, but I think you might have scurvy.”

Weak and disoriented, instead of carrying out the off-white box of photos and files from his desk, he accidentally walked out with the off-white box containing the new fax machine. As he made his way to the elevator, he wondered why his squishy stress ball and “Is It Friday Yet?” mug, which he made for himself at the booth at the mall last year, were so heavy. He made it as far as the lobby where a scrawny building security guard named Howie detained him until the police arrived and arrested him for corporate theft and industrial espionage.

After posting bail, he returned home and ate Oswald. The dog was a bit stringy, but didn’t taste bad when dressed with the fast food packets of horseradish. His stomach flopped with giddy nourishment and his dizziness shifted from one of disorientation to one of euphoria.

There was a rattle at the door as the mailman dropped another postcard through the slot. Henry swayed in place for a moment before his muscled reacted to his brain’s command to move. He crossed to the door erratically and scooped it from the floor.

This one sported a picture of a large lumberjack statue. Across the top, yellow letters announced simply Phoenix, Arizona. His eyes adjusted slowly as he read the note scrawled on the back. It read, Shane and I are headed for Mexico. They’ll never catch us alive, not with this V6! P.S. Leftovers are in the freezer.

The end.

All installments.