Guyliner, in case the word eye is too feminine for you
How to get a girlfriend:
- Go up to her and say, “Before I met you, the sun was like a yellow grape, but now it looks like fire in the sky. Why? Because you light a fire inside me.”
- Nickname her “Dandelion”
- Tell her you’d throw your pie for her, and then proceed to do so, in a violent manner, toward a fellow near said conquest.
and whatever you do, DO NOT piss on the floor of her shared bunk while she sleeps
i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again
YOU DO NOT NEED TO BRING YOUR GUN TO THE GROCERY STORE
how does america even function like it sounds like a video game or something. grand theft freedom.
i love the xkit warnings on the mp3 downloader
like look at these
And as I was screenshotting each of these, this little message popped up.
a motorcycle gang made up of ancient bisexual norse monarchs: the bikings
I JUST REALIZED THAT THIS POST IS 4 PUNS IN ONE OH MY GODDDDD
i just told my mom i died at birth and i’ve been a ghost this entire time just growing and manifesting into the daughter she’d lost
and she’s just like
well please go to the light because i am tired of your shit
taking a nap is always so risky like when will I wake up? in thirty minutes? in 2 hours? in 7 years?? no one can be sure
so in iron man 2
a little boy in an iron man helmet tries to shoot one of the rampaging suits with his lil toy flight stabilizers
in spider-man 2
a little boy puts on his spiderman suit and stands up against the rhino
that’s great for all the little boys in the theater, but you know what I want?
i want a little girl to help the heroes
i want a six-year old redhead to kick nat’s gun to her
i want a twelve-year old with braces and a lisp to shake cap back to consciousness
i want a nine-year old latina girl to take clint by the hand and walk him down unfamiliar streets back to the main fight
i want a sixteen-year old black girl to kick an enemy in the back of the knees to save sam wilson
because girls are sitting in that audience too
and they deserve to see that
I love in cursive-
in a way that’s practiced and precise but rarely of any use.
The apricot is still full even after it is emptied.
The mourning dove is already assumed to live a life of sorrow
long before it watches any of its relatives die.
In abandoned hotel rooms I pretend to be sleeping together with myself
so the rain will remind me of something other
than the way two people initially fall hard in love
then gradually stop falling until the only way down
is through the floor.
When the only man I ever saw beneath the exoskeleton,
(and by exoskeleton I mean clothes),
left with everything but his first name,
I gave up trying to learn to love in print.
There are just too many anomalies, cursive among them-
the skyscraper only pretends to scrape the sky
when in reality no one even knows where the sky ends
and the ground begins.
The one time you get struck by lightning
is also the one time you figured it wouldn’t be a problem.
Just like the one time I fell in love
was also the one time I figured
I would be able to fall back out.
Oscar Wilde said that if you know what you want to be, then you inevitably become it - that is your punishment, but if you never know, then you can be anything. There is a truth to that. We are not nouns, we are verbs. I am not a thing - an actor, a writer - I am a person who does things - I write, I act - and I never know what I am going to do next. I think you can be imprisoned if you think of yourself as a noun.
- Stephen Fry (via purplebuddhaproject)
driving past your old elementary school like