When will this madness stop
When Leo wins an Oscar.
Reblogging for old times’ sake because I have a feeling these jokes end soon
You now have links to two straight hours of Scenes From A Hat from the show Whose Line is it Anyway.
oh my GOD
PARDON ME BUT THOSE WERE MY FAVORITE FUCKING PARTS OF WHOSE LINE OMG
/SLAPS THIS ON BLOG AND TAGS REFERENCE FOR GOOD LAUGHS
GUESS WHO JUST DIED WATCHING THROUGH THE FIRST
YOU WANT THIS SHIT
REBLOGGING SO I CAN FIND LATER OMG YES!
i want to start a girl gang but not the cute rookie kind i mean like a real mob-type gang where we put hits on powerful men and fix sports games and run a black market of sex toys and stolen valentino dresses
from the looks of it, over 50k people are down for your girl gang.
the time to rise is now.
ONEThe difference between being loved and being fucked is I can’t remember how the first feels. I have a body like an open door. I have a body like an open hand. It is too easy to hold me.
Find me a boy with a heart more hopeful than spun sugar on a hot day, I will teach him to render me…
my therapist taught me
to hold my chest and focus
the second the world becomes
and i’m just beginning to learn
the difference between fists
screaming, “let me out”
and sore knuckles on mahogany
saying, “let me in”.
not everyone has the blessing to understand sadness
when waiting at the bus stop, it’s okay to smoke cigarettes
never touch anyone else’s clothes at the laundromat
it’s okay to miss the people who were bullets to you
when your grandmother asks you how you are, be honest
never be afraid to say “no” even after you’ve said “yes”
if someone tells you graffiti isn’t art, prove them wrong
remember people by their eye color not their clothes
you’re allowed to like dark chocolate with tangerines
don’t lie that you don’t have a lighter when you really do
turn your phone off every once in a while and find the moon
if you want a tattoo, don’t let anyone tell you not to get it
if you ever find yourself at the graveyard, read the names
|—||poems from my uncles grave (via synthetic-synaesthesia)|
It’s time to stop romanticizing and glorifying mental illness. Normalizing it only makes things more difficult for people who actually suffer from mental illnesses.This bullshit that being ‘tragic’ and ‘misunderstood’ is not appealing, it’s destructive. Someone isn’t going to come along and think your scars are beautiful and make everything okay for you. You’ve got to make things okay for yourself.
Whatever it takes, be it medication, counseling, or just talking to someone you trust - it gets better. I promise.
You are stronger than your illness.
Suicide hotline: 1-800-273-8255
Mental health information
Every cell in the body replaces itself every six to seven years, but does the same rule apply to the innermost parts of ourselves? To our organs and veins and blood staining us red. Does the same rule apply to those parts of ourselves that have never been touched? Can you exfoliate the outer layer of the heart? Peel away layers like the skin of an onion, as if each layer is a person we have loved. Is it possible that my brain will grow and neurons will die only to be replaced and in seven years I will have forgotten you?
I want to believe that it is. I want to believe that in six to seven years my body will be one that you have never touched, my hippocampus will be one that has never known you, my heart will be one that has never loved you.
But my heart is not an onion, it cannot be peeled layer by layer until it is merely a rotting vegetable. My heart is a grapefruit, divided into sections for each person I have loved, and you cannot take out one section and expect it to fill itself up again. Instead it will remain empty, a desperate memory of what once was.
And my brain is not a machine constantly replacing itself, or a computer that data can easily be deleted from. My brain is a pomegranate, with seeds spilling out and bursting open, staining the confines of my skull with memories of you.
In six to seven years my body will be fresh and new, but my heart and mind will still be tainted by you.
this is the #1 score on the leaderboards for flappy bird android and let me tell you why this is bullshit.
assuming that the pipes cross the screen at a rate of 2 every second (it’s probably slower than this; this is an estimation), this asshole would have had to play the game for 1,562,405,107,570 seconds. let me clarify: he played for one and a half trillion seconds.
this would give us about 26,040,085,126 (over 26 billion) minutes, or approximately 434,001,418.8 (434 million) hours. that gives us 18,083,392.45 days, or about 49,544 years. they want us to believe that cro-magnons hadnt even started slapping paint on walls when this motherfucker started playing flappy bird. bull. shit.
homie so mad he slapped a bro with math to tell him why he wrong
Robert Glenn, an inmate in the Special Housing Unit (SHU) at Corcoran State Prison in California killed two inmates while in prison. He believes these murders were justified because both men were convicted rapists, one of whom was accused of raping his sister from the age of 8 to 14.
I never thought I would admire a murder
Did you know that in most criminals frown upon rapists and molesters If they find out that they raped or molested a woman they usually treat them terribly like beating them up, or making them die. Criminals don’t even accept that.
Absolutely true, because if you think about it they have families and perhaps kids. If they find out you’re a child molester they are going to hate you.
Sometimes when child molesters go to jail, even the guards are lied to about what the molester did to go there. They sometimes make up a false crime to protect the molester from serious injury.
Ain’t it fucked up that even hardened criminals realise rape is fucking wrong no matter what, but there are some government officials that cannot?
that last fucking comment tho