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footmeetsface:

spoon-party-of-bombur:

multipack:

amyeatfeast:

stopthatitssilly:

alexkisu:

multipack:

f is for friends who do stuff without you

u is for uninvited

c is for clinging onto hope that you wont keep getting forgotten

k is for krispy kreme yum

this is not what i wanted this post to turn out like

one time i got in the shower and came out and no one was home and the lights were off, my entire family went bowling and forgot about me 

DOWN HERE IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA

gryzio:

d-hizzle:

oh my god two words in that just UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE

All hope is lost so quickly I can’t stop laughing.

(Source: youtube.com)

Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording —all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.
Sylvia Plath  (via wintersoldier)

(Source: raccoonwounds)

vegansanfrancishet: So, I paint my nails pretty regularly these days. I also work as a barista/cashier pretty regularly these days. A few weeks back, I had a customer come in, a fairly typical, sheltered, suburban soccer mom, and she ordered a latte from me. She saw my brightly colored nails and said, “Wow, you’re so brave! My son asked me about painting his nails, and if it’s okay for boys to do that. Now I’ll tell him there’s a cool guy who does it too!” It was a nice moment, very cute. Then, last week, she came in again, and said, “Hey, I’m so glad you’re here! I want you to meet someone!” She then brings her son forward, and says, “Okay sweetie, show him what you did!” And he throws his hands up, showing off his bright, sparkling blue nails. He shows them off, and I show mine off to him. He smiles. We fist bump. Guys, I’ve only wanted to cry once at work before, and that was when someone ordered a large dry soy cappuccino on ice. This time, though. This was a good cry.
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vegansanfrancishet:

So, I paint my nails pretty regularly these days. I also work as a barista/cashier pretty regularly these days. A few weeks back, I had a customer come in, a fairly typical, sheltered, suburban soccer mom, and she ordered a latte from me. She saw my brightly colored nails and said, “Wow, you’re so brave! My son asked me about painting his nails, and if it’s okay for boys to do that. Now I’ll tell him there’s a cool guy who does it too!” It was a nice moment, very cute.

Then, last week, she came in again, and said, “Hey, I’m so glad you’re here! I want you to meet someone!” She then brings her son forward, and says, “Okay sweetie, show him what you did!” And he throws his hands up, showing off his bright, sparkling blue nails. He shows them off, and I show mine off to him. He smiles. We fist bump.

Guys, I’ve only wanted to cry once at work before, and that was when someone ordered a large dry soy cappuccino on ice.

This time, though. This was a good cry.

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