Cuteness Is This

benedicts-doublechins:

Okay so a guy held a door open and as I was walking I thought in my head ’ thanks mister attractive face” and then he giggled and I realized it wasN’T IN MY HEAD AND HE JUST KEPT GIGGLING LIKE A 5 YEAR OLD

(via thisisnotworthreading)

— 3 days ago with 251117 notes

carryonmy-assbutt:

y1x:

australianpikachu:

the unholy trio

still cant read the one on the top what the fuck

Imagine the sky

how is the sky

touch the sky

(via thelesserknown221c)

— 3 days ago with 91018 notes
WHEN ONE IS EXPECTING

imyourdestinymotherfucker:

Today, I bought this book (for my sister, lets clarify that now ‘cause the only way I’m going anywhere near sperm is if I fall into a vat of it):

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BUT WAIT

THIS:

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IS:

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SOME:

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OF THE BRILLIANT:

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STUFF IT HAS IN IT:

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(via thelesserknown221c)

— 3 days ago with 58833 notes

celestial-sexhair:

cockroachsoup:

cockroachsoup:

cockroachsoup:

cockroachsoup:

cockroachsoup:

cockroachsoup:

do you think i could cook a s’more on the really hot part of my laptop

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I’m doing it

running two games in the background to cause laptop to heat up more

bottom of marshmallow is warm

the chocolate is soft enough that some comes off on my finger when touching it

it’s working

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the chocolate is melting

i touched it and that happened

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We did it kids

welcome to the internet

(via thelesserknown221c)

— 3 days ago with 156139 notes
bleu:

send this to nash grier’s parents

bleu:

send this to nash grier’s parents

(Source: wntvyz, via thelesserknown221c)

— 3 days ago with 77474 notes
"

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

"
It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

(via thisisnotworthreading)

— 3 days ago with 213685 notes

dylanr5:

tutsthepussy:

smoke weed, fine. graffiti, fucking do it man. party at strip clubs, more power to you.

but dont you fucking dare drive while drunk. you could kill someone else or yourself. do whatever you want unless you’re going to fuck up someone elses life.

AMEN

(Source: kennethamilton, via thisisnotworthreading)

— 3 days ago with 194641 notes