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kamilametushi:

troubledparadise04:

mausspacearchive:

fuck summer i want it to be dark and misty and frigid and october



(via perf-me)

meet-foreverjester:

hullaballoons:

welcome to applebees would you like apples or bees?

“Bees?”

“HE PICKED THE BEES!!” *chefs angrily shake jars of bees*

(via thebootydiaries)

lewdhat:
“Shakespeare sitting down to write some sonnets.
”

lewdhat:

Shakespeare sitting down to write some sonnets.

(via desiurbb)

wonderwomangrad:

Life problems I anticipated as a child:

- quicksand
- ghosts

Life problems I did NOT anticipate as a child:

- the crushing sense of failure associated with botched social interactions.

(via fairykyu)

kohlrabisabi:

glumshoe:

One time my friends and I realized that you only have to be 18 to rent a U-Haul (compared to 25 to rent a regular car), so we fuckin’ rented a U-Haul pickup truck for $20 and took it up to Seattle just to hit the town for the day.

That’s an amazing loophole to exploit.

(via wheretherainbowresides)

coolselfie:

coolselfie:

it’s 2014 and I still can’t add pictures to posts on mobile

it’s 2017 and I still can’t add pictures to posts on mobile

(via why-is-no-one-ready)

earthshakinlove:

earthshakinlove:

christophertrees:

I’m looking for ppl to shoot, if you’re in or visiting NYC, please let me know if something can be arranged.

I live in Staten Island please come kill me please

Oh shit I just read ya tags you talkin bout photography 👀 ma bad

(via thebootydiaries)

My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them.
Laurell K. Hamilton, A Stroke of Midnight
(via wordsnquotes)

(via wordsnquotes)

reallyreallyreallytrying:

medusa, trying to turn you to stone, but you accidentally called her “melissa” when you first walked in and now you’re too embarrassed to look at her. “it’s alright” she keeps saying “i get it all the time” but you still won’t look. u don’t even remember the stone thing until later

(via thebootydiaries)

phoneus:

my future husband: stop crying you foolish little man just tell me what’s wrong:

me: I,, ,,,, hnnn,,, hhwhghhhh,

husband: *grabs my waist* TELL ME! *tearing up, pleadingly* PLEASE! WHAT AM I DOING WRONG

me: *shakily hands him this faded photograph* yyyy’’’mnnf hhfhg,g,,

image

(via thebootydiaries)

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