Tuesday, September 2, 2014

grandthefthauntumn:

youqtee:

grandthefthauntumn:

i didnt choose the thug life my mom picked it out for me

it was on sale

thanks mom

(Source: shewillbelubed)

My new project - Tales From Other Worlds.

Tales From Other Worlds is a new blog that I have created to provide little glimpses into other words. This will give me a creative outlet while I do research on my novel and hopefully, in time, give other authors the opportunity to showcase pieces of their own work. Submissions welcome.

deoxify:

What makes the Banaue rice terraces a world wonder? Just like the remarkable build of China’s great wall, the complex and extensive system of terraces was built largely by hand by the early ancestors of the indigenous people in the Philippines. Allegedly, if the steps are put end to end, it would encircle half the globe.
Photographer unknown

Another thing I want to see in my lifetime.

deoxify:

What makes the Banaue rice terraces a world wonder? Just like the remarkable build of China’s great wall, the complex and extensive system of terraces was built largely by hand by the early ancestors of the indigenous people in the Philippines. Allegedly, if the steps are put end to end, it would encircle half the globe.

Photographer unknown

Another thing I want to see in my lifetime.

hollymae:

/dead

Not ashamed to admit it, I’m a Hardy boy.

hollymae:

/dead

Not ashamed to admit it, I’m a Hardy boy.

(Source: articmonkeyss)

Monday, August 25, 2014

plaidandredlipstick:

the reason male comic book fans work themselves into a frenzied rage over “fake geek girls" is because they think they can’t get a girlfriend because of their love for comic books (a.k.a nerdiness). if they accept that geek girls genuinely love comic books, then they’re left with the cold harsh reality that it’s not their nerdiness that makes them unattractive to women, but the fact that they are misogynistic condescending dickbags who need to be avoided AT ALL COSTS

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Failing in the future is a huge daunting prospect that weighs heavily on me. As such, I like to prepare for it by failing in small increments along the way, so when the inevitable happens at least I now have a reason for it.

Saturday, August 16, 2014
aquirkysoul:

Why don’t I want to see this? It’s too painful, Facebook, that’s why. Have you ever fallen for someone at first sight? Not merely a crush on them, or simply finding them attractive, but pure love?
Have you felt the trepidation of walking up, saying hello, exchanging jokes, shy glances, phone numbers? The seconds dragging by so you don’t look like you are too needy?
Caving in, worrying that it’s too soon, stumbling over your words. You have a good conversation, it gives you hope, but then you contact them too soon, too fast. You feel them start to pull away, and all the things you wanted to show them, to tell them, start to pile up in the back of your mind like wraiths, gnawing at your soul and your sanity.
It ends. You’ve lost the spark, you’ve fucked up, like you have before, but this time it’s different. You’ve lost them, you’ve lost them. You feel disgusted at yourself, you eventually recover. Chin up, you are moving on.
But then you see a new photo they’ve uploaded, and all the pain comes crashing back. Again and again, like you are being tossed around in an emotional hurricane. The ones that hurt the most are photos and statuses of them enjoying their life without you, but you hate yourself more for feeling entitled to their time, they don’t owe you a thing. Finally you realise that you can’t be Facebook friends with them any more, though truthfully you had stopped speaking long before.
Have you ever felt that, Facebook? Of course not, you are just a script, a piece of metadata designed to customise and regulate my News Feed in an attempt to market me to advertisers. Fuck you, Facebook. Fuck you.

Never mind, misclicked on a picture of my friend’s cat. Please undo my last action, Facebook.

aquirkysoul:

Why don’t I want to see this? It’s too painful, Facebook, that’s why. Have you ever fallen for someone at first sight? Not merely a crush on them, or simply finding them attractive, but pure love?

Have you felt the trepidation of walking up, saying hello, exchanging jokes, shy glances, phone numbers? The seconds dragging by so you don’t look like you are too needy?

Caving in, worrying that it’s too soon, stumbling over your words. You have a good conversation, it gives you hope, but then you contact them too soon, too fast. You feel them start to pull away, and all the things you wanted to show them, to tell them, start to pile up in the back of your mind like wraiths, gnawing at your soul and your sanity.

It ends. You’ve lost the spark, you’ve fucked up, like you have before, but this time it’s different. You’ve lost them, you’ve lost them. You feel disgusted at yourself, you eventually recover. Chin up, you are moving on.

But then you see a new photo they’ve uploaded, and all the pain comes crashing back. Again and again, like you are being tossed around in an emotional hurricane. The ones that hurt the most are photos and statuses of them enjoying their life without you, but you hate yourself more for feeling entitled to their time, they don’t owe you a thing. Finally you realise that you can’t be Facebook friends with them any more, though truthfully you had stopped speaking long before.

Have you ever felt that, Facebook? Of course not, you are just a script, a piece of metadata designed to customise and regulate my News Feed in an attempt to market me to advertisers. Fuck you, Facebook. Fuck you.

Never mind, misclicked on a picture of my friend’s cat. Please undo my last action, Facebook.

Why don’t I want to see this? It’s too painful, Facebook, that’s why. Have you ever fallen for someone at first sight? Not merely a crush on them, or simply finding them attractive, but pure love?
Have you felt the trepidation of walking up, saying hello, exchanging jokes, shy glances, phone numbers? The seconds dragging by so you don’t look like you are too needy?
Caving in, worrying that it’s too soon, stumbling over your words. You have a good conversation, it gives you hope, but then you contact them too soon, too fast. You feel them start to pull away, and all the things you wanted to show them, to tell them, start to pile up in the back of your mind like wraiths, gnawing at your soul and your sanity.
It ends. You’ve lost the spark, you’ve fucked up, like you have before, but this time it’s different. You’ve lost them, you’ve lost them. You feel disgusted at yourself, you eventually recover. Chin up, you are moving on.
But then you see a new photo they’ve uploaded, and all the pain comes crashing back. Again and again, like you are being tossed around in an emotional hurricane. The ones that hurt the most are photos and statuses of them enjoying their life without you, but you hate yourself more for feeling entitled to their time, they don’t owe you a thing. Finally you realise that you can’t be Facebook friends with them any more, though truthfully you had stopped speaking long before.
Have you ever felt that, Facebook? Of course not, you are just a script, a piece of metadata designed to customise and regulate my News Feed in an attempt to market me to advertisers. Fuck you, Facebook. Fuck you.

Why don’t I want to see this? It’s too painful, Facebook, that’s why. Have you ever fallen for someone at first sight? Not merely a crush on them, or simply finding them attractive, but pure love?

Have you felt the trepidation of walking up, saying hello, exchanging jokes, shy glances, phone numbers? The seconds dragging by so you don’t look like you are too needy?

Caving in, worrying that it’s too soon, stumbling over your words. You have a good conversation, it gives you hope, but then you contact them too soon, too fast. You feel them start to pull away, and all the things you wanted to show them, to tell them, start to pile up in the back of your mind like wraiths, gnawing at your soul and your sanity.

It ends. You’ve lost the spark, you’ve fucked up, like you have before, but this time it’s different. You’ve lost them, you’ve lost them. You feel disgusted at yourself, you eventually recover. Chin up, you are moving on.

But then you see a new photo they’ve uploaded, and all the pain comes crashing back. Again and again, like you are being tossed around in an emotional hurricane. The ones that hurt the most are photos and statuses of them enjoying their life without you, but you hate yourself more for feeling entitled to their time, they don’t owe you a thing. Finally you realise that you can’t be Facebook friends with them any more, though truthfully you had stopped speaking long before.

Have you ever felt that, Facebook? Of course not, you are just a script, a piece of metadata designed to customise and regulate my News Feed in an attempt to market me to advertisers. Fuck you, Facebook. Fuck you.

Friday, August 15, 2014

tastefullyoffensive:

[blaine gibson]

Oh lord that last one had me laughing.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

courtnog:

okay so if harry potter was born in 1980, and went to hogwarts in like 91, that means he was in his sixth year in 1996
do you think he knew about the spice girls? i mean.. i know he had shit going on with horcruxes that year but wannabe isn’t something that happens without you taking note of it