not10000bees

God I miss the days when you could show up to a stranger’s farm and he’d say “What’s your name, boy?” and you’d take off your hat and hold it to your chest to better let him see your face and reply “Why I ain’t got none, sir, on account of my mammy passed on before she could give me one” and he’d tell you he’s real damn sorry to hear that and ask what he can do you for and you’d tell him that you can’t read nor even write neither but you’re mighty good with horses and can mend them fallen fence posts what you saw on your way in and won’t ask for nothing much more than a hot meal and a warm barn to sleep in and he’d keep his wife and daughters inside but send his boy who ain’t got married yet even though his mama tells him he needs a woman out with a lantern and some stew at night and the two of you’d get to talkin and he’d throw you his flask to take a swig from and watch you drinkin from it while he leant against the door frame and when he finally got called back on up to the house again he’d take a sip from it too real slow-like like it weren’t the whiskey what he were tryna savour

you see you don’t get posts like this on twitter

every day at least once while on a walk i think to myself “it weren’t the whiskey what he were tryna savour” and sometimes if i am alone i say it out loud

this sucks im going to kill (remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health) the president of the United States. (end statement)

i no longer tell ppl to kill themselves as a joke bc its a bad habit but unfortunately I did used to say smth v funny which was "why don't you put that in your pipe and kill yourself" and now I can no longer say that, fortunately I can still say "you've made your own bed and now I'm going to kill you" which is funny for the same reason

i fucking love when halloween music is just surf rock with a ghoul laughing in the background

The greatest minds of this generation are putting all their creative energy into writing pornography for 50 hits on ao3

I’m sorry, I love the confession scene of course, but asking about the black knight always cracks me up. Hans is like "this is it. Okay. Steel yourself for this blacksmith, Capon. Just tell the story, see how he reacts… see how it goes and maybe… maybe he will…" and Henry interrupts all this with "Wow a black knight, like he dresses in black ? Why ?" And Hans has to interrupt his epic tale and heartfelt confession to give a short medieval lecture on knights to his yokel soulmate. It’s the best mild choice in my opinion. Because let’s be honest, Henry learned to write and read as soon as he could. He LOVES to learn new stuff. My boy saw the opportunity to acquire more knowledge and took it, completely ignoring the romantic vibe. And how can I forget, right after Hans keeps going, Henry can say "wOW wE GoT a lOt iN CoMMoN wItH tHeM" while Hans replies "well yes, that’s why I’m talking about them…" I truly love Henry. There’s my strong, educated, brave, stupid village numbskull.