This is my blog. Not that you care...

dingdongyouarewrong:

kim-kanye-baby:

What men think feminists look like

what are you talking about this is exactly what we look like

dingdongyouarewrong:

kim-kanye-baby:

What men think feminists look like

what are you talking about this is exactly what we look like

(via stillalittlebitdelirious)

dollyleighofficial:

 

thewholockgames:

pocketostars:

taeyeon-9muses-rilakkuma-ohyeah:

Clever way of getting his features in there

cr:  thqys

Utilizing the critical thinking skills and greater levels of maturity assumed by my college degree, I deduced that I could make butt pancakes.

image

image

i wasnt gonna reblogg but then

buttcakes

(Source: james-because-i-dont-know, via richardsboringlife)

facts-i-just-made-up:

A live Artichoke drinking at a river
Because Artichokes are classified as vegetables for import into the U.S. due to an 18th century zoning loophole, few in the country are even aware that they’re the thorax and abdomen of an animal.
The Artichoke lives mostly in tropical regions and lives on a diet of ants and small insects which it siphons up with its long, hollow tongue. Artichokes are seldom raised on farms owing to their small size and the ease of their escape, instead they’re trapped for food and exported, often constituting as much as 80% of a nation’s economy.
Only the meat connecting the scales of the Artichoke is edible, most of its body being condensed squamous cells. It’s heart is edible however, and is considered a delicacy by some gustibators.

facts-i-just-made-up:

A live Artichoke drinking at a river

Because Artichokes are classified as vegetables for import into the U.S. due to an 18th century zoning loophole, few in the country are even aware that they’re the thorax and abdomen of an animal.

The Artichoke lives mostly in tropical regions and lives on a diet of ants and small insects which it siphons up with its long, hollow tongue. Artichokes are seldom raised on farms owing to their small size and the ease of their escape, instead they’re trapped for food and exported, often constituting as much as 80% of a nation’s economy.

Only the meat connecting the scales of the Artichoke is edible, most of its body being condensed squamous cells. It’s heart is edible however, and is considered a delicacy by some gustibators.

(Source: androphilia)

fohk:

ryan howard is everything

(via pricklylegs)

starkinglyhandsome:

dollygale:

captain-raptor:

best thing i learned working with and learning about kids: when they do shit like this, especially to something they themselves use and enjoy, leave it there for as long as possible. let them return to the fun thing over and over again so that it sinks in that the thing they did was wrong, they ruined something, and now they can’t have fun because of it and they should never do it again. it teaches them consequence of action and cautiousness.

i did this with a 3-year-old kid i babysat who filled his playstation with peanut butter before i got there, just every time he went back to it and asked why it’s not working, i opened it and pointed to the peanut butter stains and said “you did that” and he says “yeah”, “will it work like that?” “…no”, and when he got it and promised to never put anything but games into a game machine again, his parents bought another and he kept his promise. it works, even at that age.

this was a long and unnecessary rant but so many times i’ve seen parents IMMEDIATELY replace their kids’ toys/electronics that they destroy over and over again and i’m just like NO THEY’RE NOT LEARNING ANYTHING THAT WAY 

they also don’t learn from being thrown into fires

yeah but they’re quieter that way

(Source: ogtmoreno, via pricklylegs)

twospookywhiskey:

bleachdalilah:

thtwhitegurrl:

slutdust:

I bought my friend an elephant for their room.

They said “Thank you.”

I said “Don’t mention it.”

Is there a joke here that 15 thousand people get but I don’t?

PLEASE EXPLAIN

EHEHEH

(via bethsamurderer)

sexbutt:

i love bioware…. the way they just [clenches fist] kill all my favorite characters

(via spookyblackman)

hermionemollycharliepond:

just-raowolf:

edenwolfie:

my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe

We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.
First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.
“A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.”
This was a good start.
We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.
“Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—”
“Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.”
“You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?”
He frowned. “Who doesn’t?”
“Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?”
He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?”
We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.”
He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.”
“But I’m not.”
“Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—”
“We’re married!?”
“Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?”
He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.”
We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?”
“Vegetarian.”
“Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.”
“We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.”
“You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.
“They’re your children too!" I screamed back.
He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!”
“Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—”
“I want a divorce!”
And he walked out of the classroom.
The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.”
I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.

READ THE WHOLE THING

hermionemollycharliepond:

just-raowolf:

edenwolfie:

my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe

We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.

First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.

A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.

This was a good start.

We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.

Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—

Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.

You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?

He frowned. “Who doesn’t?

Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?

He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?

We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.

He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.

But I’m not.

Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—

We’re married!?

Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?

He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.

We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?

Vegetarian.

Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.

We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.

You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.

They’re your children too!" I screamed back.

He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!

Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—

I want a divorce!

And he walked out of the classroom.

The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.

I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.

READ THE WHOLE THING

(via negative-bunny-hunter)