tannertan36
wallacepolsom
KIROKAZE
JBB: An Artblog!
Love Begins
blake kathryn
titsay
Kaledo Art
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
RMH
trying on a metaphor
Jules of Nature
Stranger Things
Peter Solarz
ojovivo
Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć
Show & Tell
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
dirt enthusiast
seen from United States
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seen from Singapore
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@nyanbinary-creature
Outdoor in sun perfec t place for president to do speech! Outdoor very warm very soft put old man on green lawn under sun. Put old man in warm sun. no problem ever in warm sun because good view and audience can see long speech. Nice podium outdoor sunny perfect place for old president can trust warm sun to give nice view to President good luck to President. friend sun.
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I went to a plus size clothing store for the first time today. I was apprehensive about it initially because Iām right on the line between straight sizes and plus size but omg it was such an amazing experience to shop at store with stuff made for bigger bodies (once I figured out how the sizes work lol)
I went to my local wine shop, purchased a mid range bottle of champagne, put it on the top shelf of the fridge to chill, and will open it when it happens. And every day I open the fridge and see that bottle I will remember it might happen today, or it might not. But it will definitely happen some day.
In my fridge, in the door, is a bottle of the same bubbly my sister in law bought my spouse and me for our wedding. Itās queer branded, wrapped in a rainbow, and it is For The Occasion. Sometimes I touch the bottle and hope really, really hard.
Every time I go through the wine shop at the local fancy grocery I eyeball the champagne. Hard.
I donāt have my Bottle For The Occasion yet, but I am inspired by your excellent examples, and will go ahead and procure one.
And Iād like to add, because I am always conscious that some people do not partake of the spirits, that if you are looking for a non-alcoholic alternative to champagne that still feels fancy, Martinelliās sparkling juice is delicious and comes in very pretty bottles and looks good in a champagne flute.
and your thing doesn't have to be a drink of any kind at ALL you can have some nice thing you're waiting to crack open to celebrate when it happens, whatever totem you want. it's just nice to have a physical reminder around the house that death comes for us all you know?
can't stop laughing at the idea of someone going on tumblr and searching "deformed erotic visage" hoping to find porn
let's all go to tumblr and order the deformed erotic visage. the look on the mod's face will be an ecstatic contortion
Just finished The Terror, what a phenomenal show
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"Harrow is a goth" "Harrow is a prep" "Harrow dresses alt" "Harrow would dress to fit in"
Harrow is the broke homeschooled kid from an isolationist cult that was let out on mission and/or bargained her way into attending a university so she could bring knowledge and funding back to the community. All her clothes are second-, third- or fourth-hand and have been patched and mended to hell and back and are not visually distinctive enough to identifiably belong to any subculture. The only exception to this lack of visual distinctiveness are her Church Robes, which are Church Robes. The only new clothing she owns is, like, underwear, maybe.
She is covered from neck to wrist and ankle because if anyone saw she had a human body under there she would gouge their eyes out. Most of her clothes are home-dyed black because she did it in the bathtub, and they must be black to show she is in permanent mourning. Also because then it's less likely people will notice she wears the same shirt and skirt for three days straight.
She does still have piercings (she is the only one on the Ninth mentioned to have piercings, I do not believe those are sacramental and are fully a Harrow Thing) because she can argue it's holy mortification of the flesh. Otherwise, thinking about what she is wearing is a distraction from more important things, which are a) being Righteous and b) proving she is the smartest person in the room.
Gideon dresses like a bogan
meows at you loud as fuck. meows at you loud as fuck again
adderall is a kind of maid that helps with doing chores around the house
I went to my local wine shop, purchased a mid range bottle of champagne, put it on the top shelf of the fridge to chill, and will open it when it happens. And every day I open the fridge and see that bottle I will remember it might happen today, or it might not. But it will definitely happen some day.
In my fridge, in the door, is a bottle of the same bubbly my sister in law bought my spouse and me for our wedding. Itās queer branded, wrapped in a rainbow, and it is For The Occasion. Sometimes I touch the bottle and hope really, really hard.
Every time I go through the wine shop at the local fancy grocery I eyeball the champagne. Hard.
I donāt have my Bottle For The Occasion yet, but I am inspired by your excellent examples, and will go ahead and procure one.
And Iād like to add, because I am always conscious that some people do not partake of the spirits, that if you are looking for a non-alcoholic alternative to champagne that still feels fancy, Martinelliās sparkling juice is delicious and comes in very pretty bottles and looks good in a champagne flute.
and your thing doesn't have to be a drink of any kind at ALL you can have some nice thing you're waiting to crack open to celebrate when it happens, whatever totem you want. it's just nice to have a physical reminder around the house that death comes for us all you know?
a slaughterhouse. an outlet mall. slot machines. fear of god. you know the usual
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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titanic Wreckage perfec t size for put trillionaire in to n\ap! inside very Cool and Meme trillionaire look so sick put trillionaore in Titanic Wreckage. Put Trillionaore In Titanic Wreckage. no problems ever in titanicc wreckage because good Shape and Support for trillionaire ti visit in little snubmarine. Thetitanic Wreckage yes a place for a trillionaire put trillionaire in titanic wreckage can trust Mad Catz xbox controller for giveing good submarine control to trillionaire. friend titanic wreckage
yes i do ship those characters but i ship them in an infinitely more aroace way than you will ever be able to comprehend
they're not "dating" they're not "a couple" they're intrinsically connected and intertwined with each other for eternity. they're bound together like the stars. get with the program
the littled preylike animal, vaguely mouselike in appearance and dental structure.......... i can hear him squeaking
My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
do they smoke weed?
Yes, actually.
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
Itās called a buntā¦. Not weed cigaretteā¦ And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They donāt look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Iām so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down Iām so mad.
YourĀ āweed smoking girlfriendā has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerpā¦. Donāt ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Donāt wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNINGĀ
Well that escalated quicklyā¦ā¦
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they arenāt worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. Iām yelling so loud and now Iām crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I canāt take anymore. Iām opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that āI HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDSā, āTHEY ALL KISS MEā, and āTHEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURRā.
and letās not forget the āBlaizā and her āwicked tatā, or that he doesnāt āwanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever againā, and that this is āthe FINAL FUCKING WARNINGā.
āthe goo pile that is now your bodyā
iām dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, itāll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiotā¦ *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omgĀ
Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. Iām clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and heās muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals Iām still Ā at the bar. You look to the exit, thereās still time. But thereās not, thereās not, thereās not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. Ā I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I havenāt shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and Iām missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, itās like that only instead of boots itās my muscles and instead of walking itās punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your familyā¦ Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insultedĀ theĀ Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playingā¦ no playing you fuck. No playingā¦ it was real.. the realest thing Iāve ever know.. feltā¦ Love. I loved themā¦ Blaizā¦. Chas-Chasā¦ Funkā¦ I loved all three of emā¦ but theyā¦*My face is wet with tears and Iām blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left meā¦ leftā¦ *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?!Ā *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging.Ā āPft, you brought this upon yourself dude.ā He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left meā¦ * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Happy 420
Happy 420
World Heritage Post
Just watched Adam Conover (of Adam Ruins Everything) make such a solid point that I think we should spread far and wide. Yes, having AI write your emails is lazy, sure, but people love being lazy. We need to really emphasize that sending AI emails (or using AI responses on social media, or publishing AI flyers, or or or) is rude.
It's rude. You're making someone take their time to read something you couldn't bother to write. You're telling them they were so unimportant you couldn't be bothered to actually take the time to say something yourself. And frankly, you're lying about it while you're at it.
It's rude.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Iām sick and tired of found families we need more found toxic workplace environments
Unoriginal sin. Derivative sin
