a collab channel i'm part of (i put up videos on tuesdays!)
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TUMBLR GIVE AWAY:
so my mom got me this calzone and i can’t finish it
rules:
then using some made up system i’m going to pick a random name through a generator (lol not really i just want followers).
you must give out your mailing info so i can mail it to you (and stalk you because this post is a desperate cry for attention)
i’ll do more giveaways in the future so make sure to follow this blog and get more half eaten calzones
follow this blog, you’ll love it on your dashboard!
YOL00
Skyrim has that effect on people.
99 springtimes, 99 falls,
99 bottles-of-beer-on-the-walls,
99 planets with 99 suns,
99 problems but bitches ain’t ones,
99 smiles, 99 tears,
99 reasons to face all your fears,
99 strangers with 99 faces,
99 feelings in all-the-right-places,
99 failures from 99 tries,
99 red balloons up in the skies,
99 letters with 99 words,
but it still doesn’t seem like my voice can be heard.
roses are red
violets are blue
your name must be dubstep
because i wub wub wub you
If you’re like most people on Tumblr who are going to die alone surrounded by pictures of Benedict Cumberbatch and your nine cats curled up in your fat folds that are so immense that Salvador Dali mistook them for clocks, have no fear, because I have developed a formula to help you turn yourself from a wannabe into a wanton mistress of the night.
Love is a difficult feeling to explain. When people are asked what love is, some say, “It’s a good feeling.” or “It’s when two people care about each other.” or “Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more.”
Some people haven’t experienced what love is. I myself had only encountered love through watching TV shows with homosexual relationships. Me, I’m a maverick. I raised myself in the wild. I have no family, no honor, no love.
Anyway.
Love is kind of a mix of caring about someone’s feelings (platonic love) and ‘I-want-you-to-gobble-my-meat-curtains-like-a-mangy-sabertooth-tiger’ (sexytimes love).
I’ve even drawn a chart.
This is based off of pure science.
Love is many a splendid thing, but most importantly, it’s a bragging right - if you are in love, make sure to tell as many single people as possible about your sex life in great detail. If it’s not that great, exaggerate. If it’s non existent, go to fanfiction.net. Find a rated M fanfic. Read it aloud, but replace character names with you and your beloved.
People love a ton of things today (“OMG KAREN I LOVE YOUR PURSE” “LESLIE IS THAT A NEW TUMOR ON YOUR FACE I LOVE IT WORK THAT TUMOR”) . What I’m talking about in this post, however, is people love.
Thus, I have developed the following formula to help you win your beloved. (60% of the time, it works all the time.)
If this works, congratulations on your new life. Invite me to the wedding.
If this doesn’t work, hope that your house will fit the multitude of cats you will accumulate in your sad, miserable life.
My parents want me to get rid of my bunk bed, saying that an eighteen-year-old shouldn’t have the same bed she’s had since she was a kid.
I made a Powerpoint to prove them otherwise.
So you know that awkward time in your life when you’re a freshman and you think that you’re so fucking cool to be friends with older kids? You think you’re the coolest fucking thing around but eventually, and surely, you will realize that you’re actually just a fucking freshman and you’re about as cool as the ninth circle of hell.
Most peoples skeletons in their closets are that they killed a guy or something, but me?
Mine is that I was a hipster.
Before it was cool.
It was a Saturday night or something and my friend Michelle and I were like, “look at us we’re so cool we have friends that are seniors FACEBOOK PROFILE PICTURE TIME DUCKFACE LOLOL listen to this band i think it’s called avril lavigne or something omg it’s so cool no one knows her except us <333”
I think that there are at least two sides to us - the side that we show off to public (ie duckface girl lolol what’s harry potter what’s reading lolol bad grammar) and the side that we are actually like (ie why am I out on a Saturday night when I could be rewatching Star Wars).
In freshmen year of high school, you’re still deciding which one you show, which one you’re going to fully envelop. You’re like a ball of clay, being molded by your peers and those around you, turning into some fuckpot that has bubbles on it and you messed up on the glaze so now it looks like a cat vomited on it and it doesn’t even hold flowers upright.
anywhore.
Michelle and I had this senior friend and he was like, “lol i have weed wanna go smoke behinds Tops we’re too cool to watch that football game” and she was like “lolsure” because we were too mainstream to actually watch the football game we were at.
And I, not wanting to be left out, wanting to be molded into the same kind of fuckpot clay thing that they were molded into, agreed to come with them.
Let me tell you something. Imagine all of your senses (sight, taste, touch, etc) went to a party.
Now imagine that they all went on one of those spinny rides that get you all disoriented and that a big, sweaty Sumo wrestler punched them all in the face with a feather duster.
That’s kind of what being high is like.
So it’s me, Michelle, our senior friend, and two of his friends. I noticed that one of the guys was kind of hot.
I didn’t even ask him permission. I kind of just mauled his face.
I imagine that this guy now has a fear of saber-tooth tigers because every time he sees one, he’s brought back to that night where some freshman attacked his face and cut her lips on his braces and you could taste some iron in your mouth but you were too fucking high to care.
And then I kissed the other guy.
And the other guy.
My dad came to pick me up a few hours later. Either he didn’t notice anything or he didn’t say anything about me ordering three hamburger meals from the Wendy’s drive-thru but let me tell you, one night (and probably 15 pounds later because of all the food I ate) later, I noticed something.
That wasn’t exactly my definition of fun.
I started hanging out with my other friends, the kind of friends that held Doctor Who episode parties and that would listen when I complained about the lack of physics in most science fiction movies.
And it was fun.
So that clay ball thing I mentioned earlier? I think mine is probably better than what it was before.
But it’s probably still the color of cat vomit.
