on the road to find out

Matthew Gray Gubler says his perfect woman “Must love decorating for holidays, mischief, kissing in cars, and wind chimes. No specific height, weight, hair color, or political affiliation required, but would prefer a warm spirited, non-racist. Cynics, critics, pessimists, and ‘stick in the muds’ need not apply. Voluptuous figures a plus. Any similarity in look, mind set, or fashion sense to Mary Poppins, Claire Huxtable, Snow White, or Elvira wholeheartedly welcomed. I am dubious of actresses, felons, and lesbians, but don’t want to rule them out entirely. Must be tolerant of whistling, tickle torture, James Taylor, and sleeping late. I have a slight limp, eerily soft hands, and a preternatural love of Autumn. I once misinterpreted being called a ‘coal-eyed dandy’ as a compliment when it was intended as an insult. I wiggle my feet in my sleep, am scared of the dark, and think the Muppets Christmas Carol is one of the greatest films of all time. All I want is butterfly kisses in the morning, peanut butter sandwiches shaped like a heart, and to make you smile until it hurts.”

Today in science we learned that you can never gain cold, you can only have an absence of heat; and it made me think that maybe hatred doesn’t exist, and there’s only an absence of love.

this is the realist shit I’ve ever read

you ever thought that maybe the reason girls say they’re fine when they’re not, or they’re not mad when they are, is because the second they show any semblance of emotion they’re written off as hysterical bitches that are probably on their period?

THE FUCKING DA VINCI CODE HAS BEEN CRACKED

Reblogging again, because this will never be irrelevant. 

nothing says love like somebody with no musically ability singing to you.