💚🦷🖤

It’s still gonna shoot… And they’re gonna lose a finger

No. The finger blocks the bullet. We can do this

This is a gun we’re talking about. The projectile is fired using an explosion, not by compressed air of a toy gun or the elastic forces of a sling shot. People would be lucky if they only lost their finger.

The finger blocks it

The finger won’t block it - the shaft is only there for keeping the bullet straight, all the propulsion happens behind the bullet. The bullet would rip through the finger, not that many would actually fit without the victim being a child, and beyond.

The bullet would go forward a little and then hit the finger and stop it’s not that hard to understand

People are going to lose their hands. Go watch Mythbusters. They did an episode on this, the hand fucking exploded.

No, the bullet would start to go but stop at the finger. Thats basic physics. Also hands dont explode normally they did something wrong.

Why the dingleknockers would you even consider sticking your finger in the barrel of a loaded gun?? the amount of force propelling the bullet at that close of range would shatter the finger at the very least; this is a petition for 1,000,000 people to loose the use of their hands. If a bullet explodes the back of a persons skull when they shoot it in their mouth it sure as hell will explode a finger.

No the finger would stop it

no the finger would stop it

You guy who think the bullet would stop at the finger have never shot a gun and can volunteer to it their fingers in the barrel of my 9 mil and I’ll I’ll the trigger and see if it will stop the bullet. Dumdasses

the finger would stop it

date of origin: 28th of december, 2015.

I’ve had four years to think about it and now I think the finger would stop it

….Mythbusters WELDED A METAL SPIKE into the barrel of a gun to obstruct it, something heaps stronger than a human finger (and sealed the barrel better with the filler metal used to fuse the metal spike into place and prevent the explosive gases from escaping) but even that didn’t stop the bullet from doing damage.

It’s because they didn’t use a finger like I did

vetted by @gaza-evacuation-fund ✅️

hey, I was just at "things got better" island and everyone there is talking about how excited they are to meet you

Hey yeah so this post literally kept me alive for like 6 months. Thank you. And OP is so right. Everyone on this island became my best friends. And guess what? Now they can't wait to meet *you* and they talk about you every single day.

We should always refer to Volkswagen in this way 🙂‍↕️

everyone say thank you beautiful trans woman in her 30s

scientists are experimenting on cross-breeding a crab and a cheetah; things could go sideways real fast

#Please little bird

I love that the modern-day tumblr post equivalent of chain emails only requires me to reblog a relatively pleasant image instead of forward an email to a bunch of my friends and family members to quell my raging anxiety.

It’s a win win. I get a bit of hope, you get a cute birb photo

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t 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. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” 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 twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t 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 WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t 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. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m 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*

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

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. I’m 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 he’s 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 I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s 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.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m 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, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the 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 playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *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. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ 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 me… * 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