1. Notes: 15161 / 1 week ago  from itsmamrie (originally from gifmethat)

    megahartbig:

    creatingme3113:

    kblovesit:

    (x)

    The fucking little innocent eye stare when she says Instagram OMG

    "What would you do next"
    "Probably tweet about it"

    (Source: gifmethat)

  2. Notes: 148626 / 1 week ago  from thesailortitan (originally from mythchief)
    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 retard, 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 retard, 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.

     
  3. Notes: 160391 / 1 week ago  from lightspeedsound (originally from catbushandludicrous)
  4. Notes: 59812 / 1 week ago  from electro-monk (originally from themusingsofacurlyhairednerd)
  5. Notes: 242122 / 1 week ago  from youre-tearing-me-apart-lisa (originally from algoll)

    (Source: algoll)

  6. Notes: 2270 / 1 week ago  from sunny-burn (originally from ghostgreen)
    ghostgreen:


fearsomesymmetryreplied to your post:sorry for the lack of draws lately, wh…
psst vega/goto it’s the go-to otp

ohh …i like this idea a lot ……♡o。.(✿ฺ。 ✿ฺ)

    ghostgreen:

    fearsomesymmetryreplied to your post:sorry for the lack of draws lately, wh…

    psst vega/goto it’s the go-to otp

    ohh …i like this idea a lot ……♡o。.(✿ฺ。 ✿ฺ)

     
  7. Notes: 19556 / 2 weeks ago  from infamousnfamous (originally from cali-cocaine)
    miguelferrino:

jajajaja por pendejos 

    miguelferrino:

    jajajaja por pendejos 

    (Source: cali-cocaine)

     
  8. Notes: 7 / 2 weeks ago  from goodgeology
    "I want feminists to be enrolled more tightly in the meaning-making processes of technoscientific world-building. I also want feminist—activists, cultural producers, scientists, engineers, and scholars (all overlapping categories) — to be recognized for the articulations and enrollment we have been making all along within technoscience, in spite of the ignorance of most “mainstream” scholars in their characterization (or lack of characterizations) of feminism in relation to both technoscientific practice and technoscience studies."
    - Donna Haraway (via goodgeology)
  9. Notes: 9134 / 2 weeks ago  from getbusyliving-getbusydying (originally from cowboycliche)
    cowboycliche:

One of my favorite twitter exchanges

    cowboycliche:

    One of my favorite twitter exchanges

     
  10. Notes: 599513 / 2 weeks ago  from kashmirror (originally from swallowthesound)

    boara:

    HE THOUGHT HIS LIL FRIEND GOT BAKED INTO A COOKIE I AM 100% DONE AWHH

    (Source: swallowthesound)

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You can call me Tasha. I am currently a full time student and mother, but I still have time for my passions. One of those passions is writing, especially when it is about things I care deeply about. As a Trigger Warning, you are likely to see posts regarding abortion, rape, adoption, religiously triggering material, and posts regarding LGBTQ+ rights. As another warning, I am a very passionate person. I am also a very strong-willed and sarcastic person. If you message me Anon, or encounter me in any way that I feel deserves sarcastic retort, you will receive such. Using a tone argument, or telling me to calm down? That will get you even more. Believe it or not, Tumblr is how I relieve the stress of a long day of studying and taking care of my children.

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