poisonedcas:

can’t stop won’t stop

huffley6:

writergrrrl:

serious question: why aren’t dumb bro movies called dick flicks?

I AM CALLING THEM THIS NOW.

gaminginyourunderwear:

raccooneyedbitch:

bombarrows:

quadrangledreality:

lightningsshadow:

paranoidandroid42:

yes i’m a boy
yes i play videogames ;]
don’t hit on me silly girls xoxoxo

wft boys don’t play videogames
get back in the garage and fix my car.

another fucking “gamer boy” They all just want attention they cant even play well!

He’s just a slut with a controller.

That console isn’t even plugged in you fucking whore.

I bet that’s his girlfriend’s system. 

drinkmasturbatecry:

if you get a boyfriend does that mean you have to spend less time on the internet because idk if im prepared for that

#fics before dicks

(Source: styleswhores)

sonlco:

alexicography:

Tibetan Mastiffs are apparently Pokemons.

10/10 would ride it into battle

trexinvadingtheoperahouse:

I’m certain the Vulcans were like “We get that you’re half human, so you can keep ONE emotional/human response and you can use it as much as you like.”

And Spock was like “Sass.”

ratchet-jean:

picturesofarmincrying:

image

Reminder that Levi kicked a titan.

that titan looks like jean and i choked 


fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
FULL naked.
REAL naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.
nikktheconqueerer:


we all took this movie too literally

romangodfrey:

i-kan-do-zat-i-kan-do-zat:

SO I REMEMBERED SEEING A VIDEO ON HERE ABOUT GORDON RAMSAY SHOWING HOW TO PROPERLY COOK EGGS. I WANTED EGGS FOR DINNER, SO I LOOKED UP THE VIDEO AND MADE THEM.

I TWEETED GORDON ABOUT IT AND I GOT A RESPONSE

image

NOT ONLY DID I GET A RESPONSE, BUT I GOT A COMPLIMENT. HOW MANY PEOPLE CAN SAY THAT? 

many years I’ve been looking for a way to properly measure someone’s level of success in life and I think I’ve found it

(Source: stiiles--stilinskii)

“ We’re adults, but, like…adult cats. Someone should probably take care of us, but we can sort of make it on our own. ”

─ my roommate, on the question “are we adults” (via disjunct) ─

saywhatjessie:

rexuality:

a person complaining about puns basically invites every pun enthusiast in the vicinity to come snapping rhythmically from the shadows