Jaimie. 20. Singer. Pizza Enthusiast. Not quite getting the point of stop-and-go sentence structure. Banana.

 

egobus:

omg my little brother was using my computer and look at his search history

image

so embarrassing

poutingly:

angryfuckingvegan:

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Milk is not natural.

Angryfuckingvegan comes the conclusion that cows are not real and milk does not actually exist

(Source: princess-passion-flower)

snarliekelly:

agentbering:

jessepumpkin:

i can only handle so much socializing until i get tired and start getting irritated towards everyone and want to go home and sleep or lock myself in my room and go on the computer

This is what it means to be an introvert. Not being shy. This.

(Source: pinkmanjesse)

reasons why periods suck

homoish:

  • u get horny over fucking everything
  • blood
  • you fucking ruin your panties
  • fuck
  • what the hell
  • people just fucking stop
  • this list is fucking awful

cloudcuckoolander527:

forkanna:

somethinginthenothing:

why-i-love-comics:

Injustice: Year Two - “Chapter 13”

written by Tom Taylor
art by Bruno Redondo

That’s incredibly sad…

Holy shit, Harley…

Yet another great moment of showing that Harley Quinn is, quite possibly, the saddest victims of The Joker. 

confessionsofayoungsexworker:

This guy sent me a dick pic so I google searched and sent back a bigger dick pic. This was the response.

confessionsofayoungsexworker:

This guy sent me a dick pic so I google searched and sent back a bigger dick pic. This was the response.

mrv3000:

ophelia-tagloff:

kestrel337:

Just imagine the Avengers going to Ikea, and Thor is the only one who can pronounce the name of anything. 

This is disproportionately hilarious to me.

#COME LET US ASSEMBLE THE LÖVBACKEN

fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
FULL naked.
REAL naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!

I get naked.

FULL naked.

REAL naked.

I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.

No cookies. Blatant nudity.

That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…

And there it was.

This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.

Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.

“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”

Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.

This was, nearly, one of those.

If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.

My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.

I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:

“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”

And inquiries such as:

“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”

Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?

That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.

An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

lifesanemotionalrollercoaster:

c4cti:

sometimes i wake up with a very urgent thought on my mind and it’s usually pretty dumb like ‘je suis un pomme' or 'root beer fairytales' but this morning i woke up and sat there for a second and all i could think was

tis i,

the frenchiest fry

I JUST LAUGHED OUT LOUD IN CLASS

nosdrinker:

human:

reblog if you never actually bought these you just found and kept them


I had so many of these stolen everyone who reblogged this is getting blocked

nosdrinker:

human:

reblog if you never actually bought these you just found and kept them

I had so many of these stolen everyone who reblogged this is getting blocked

zimages:

This little happy child is poking fun at Nickelodeon execs who would criticize the main characters for being mean all the time. They would commonly ask, “Why can’t they just be nicer and happier?” In response Nick was created. He wears a shirt with an orange logo displaying his name—subtle—and is uncomfortably happy all the time.