credit
at 12:14 AM on September / 19 / 2014
116,559 notes // reblog
vicvondoombwhahaha:

You can’t convince me this raccoon isn’t elegantly playing the deepest sonata you’ll ever hear on a avant garde harp
at 12:14 AM on September / 19 / 2014
117,028 notes // reblog
at 12:14 AM on September / 19 / 2014
320,769 notes // reblog
at 12:13 AM on September / 19 / 2014
117,619 notes // reblog
folieadamn:

i need feminism because i just found this in a magazine aimed at 8-13 year old girls and im going to throw up
"I would but #brokecollegestudent"(via slapmytitties)

13,584 notes

think-thank-thunk:

*holds own titty for comfort*

at 12:13 AM on September / 19 / 2014
13,034 notes // reblog

at 12:13 AM on September / 19 / 2014
5,455 notes // reblog
delicatepoetry:

"little things" 

hospitalstays:

image

school cum

at 12:13 AM on September / 19 / 2014
468,318 notes // reblog

i just found the best picture ever

felisvulpes:

at 12:12 AM on September / 19 / 2014
14,156 notes // reblog

at 12:12 AM on September / 19 / 2014
9,325 notes // reblog
frenchinhalechanelxoxo:



when u arrive to the party and your jam is already on


yasss lmfao
horror movie opening scene
  • white girl: i dont like this abandoned insane asylum, zack.
  • white boy: come on, amanda, 10 years ago tonight, the famous blood skull killer committed his last murder right here and then vanished.
  • white girl: you're just trying to scare me.
  • white boy: lmao
  • they continue walking for a few seconds
  • *white couple hears noise*
  • white girl: babe what that??
  • white boy: i'll go investigate
  • *leaves her alone*
  • *choking noises*
  • white girl: zack!!!
  • white boy: ha ha just kidding!
  • white girl: asshole!
  • white boy: im just playin babe
  • white girl: that wasnt funny but ur still cute
  • *playful kiss*
  • *things turn sexy*
  • *hear noise*
  • white boy: i'll go investigate
  • *he leaves and then there's a silence for a long time*
  • *maybe a thud*
  • white girl: zack! this isnt funny anymore zack!
  • *she walks and he dead*
  • white girl: ahhh!!
  • *killer shows up with sickle or quirky weapon that distinguishes him from other horror movie villains*
  • white girl: ahhh!!!
  • *white girl runs*
  • *dead end*
  • *hides*
  • *thinks she free n safe*
  • *guy catches her*
  • *cuts her*
  • *she dead*
  • opening title slashes across screen: BLOOD SLICE IN 3-D
  • 147,831 notes

at 12:11 AM on September / 19 / 2014
65,328 notes // reblog
bile7:


It’s in Gods hands now. He’ll know what to do. He always does.

mareeps:

once at my school this guy who had really long hair came in the next day with most of it cut out and nobody recognized him so a rumour went around that he died

at 12:11 AM on September / 19 / 2014
146,016 notes // reblog

"

When I was about nine years old,
I wanted to be a boy.

In my mind, boys had everything.
Boys had it easy. Boys had it made.

I didn’t get along very well with
other girls because I would
rather be covered in mud than
in makeup. I would rather
skin knees than stab backs.
Boys ran their mouths and
ran the school while my
patience ran a little bit thin.
But that’s not what girls did.
Girls kept pretty and girls
kept quiet and girls kept
themselves together.

When I was about nine years old,
I realized the biggest difference
between boys and girls to me
was that boys never seemed
to think before they spoke
and I would watch girls
swallow their words like
they were pills made
for horses.

But to boys, there was more
than just that. There was
something in them that
told them girls were weak,
when all I could see was the
strength seeping out of their
pores as they bit the strongest
muscle in their body until it bled.
There was something in
them that told them
girls were worse, when
all I could see was every girl
in a race to better themselves
before the ideal image
of a perfect girl changed
once again.

Even at nine years old,
there was nothing better to me,
than girls.

But I wanted to be a boy, I think,
only because I wanted, just once,
to be picked first to play ball,
to show them I could run just as fast,
kick just as hard,
win just as fiercely.

I wanted to prove myself,
as a girl, that I could be everything
a boy was,
and then some.

When I was about nine years old,
as I hurriedly tried to tie up
my shoes to race others
to the field,
I heard the phrase:
“You can’t play for our team,
you’re a girl.”

I remember thinking,
“But why does that make a difference?”
Until I turned fifteen years old.

When I was about fifteen years old,
I realized that I did not want to
be a boy any more.
I wanted the freedom and
the power and the worth
every boy I grew up with
felt he had.

I wanted to be an equal.

When I was about fifteen years old,
and heard,
“You can’t play for our team”
as I laced up my heartstrings
like a pair of battered cleats,

I learned to say, with a huge smile,
and a nod, remembering
girls and their strength
and their beauty and their poise
and their ability to keep everything
in and everybody out and
hold together a family or bring
down an army,
“It’s okay. I play for the other team
anyway”.

"

GIRLS by K.P.K

(via towritepoems)

2,679 notes