finally and accurate headline!
Well, even a blind squirrel sometimes finds a nut…
laptop overheating?? pour water on it to cool it down!
i trusted you
Do not trust people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people
Suck it, Robert. Ned’s kids are actually his.
i type with no punctuation because i want to write sentences so long that people will run out of breath reading it and suffocate
by Fall Out Boy
a small collection of somewhat disturbing, but otherwise entertaining posts
Shall my daughter ever cry herself to sleep because the mean girl yanked at her ponytail and shamed her light-up Sketchers, may I show her that her spirit can move mountains, and her Sketchers will shine the way, and her ponytail will whip through anyone who attempts to stop her.
Twelve years later, when she finds herself spritzing perfume that smells of his favorite candy and tulips, may she learn that her body is not anyone’s sugar to sweeten their tea, and he will not yank out her garden’s flowers unless he is willing to groom the weeds as well.
When she finds herself lost in the makeup aisle in Walmart, may she choose the eye shadow that reminds her of the ocean inside her. May she skip the foundation because it hides her laughter lines.
May I weave braids into her hair and insight into her brain. May she find beauty on her bookshelf, galaxies in her palms, and good in her heart, before any one tries to convince her that beauty is only skin deep, the brightest constellations only exist in the prettiest people, and her heart is only worth knowing if she pretends it is blemish-free.
May her back ache not from bending over backwards at a mirror, but from picking up the shards of the porcelain people whose reflections betrayed them. May she have hands of glue and hope, to piece them back together, and show them they are so much more.
May she wear red lipstick only if she is willing to bleed two shades darker for that which she loves. May her first love be herself. May her second be humility.
If her third love tells her he wishes she had a larger behind, may she respond with, “You make enough of an ass out of yourself.” May her tiny rear-end shuffle out the door without turning back.
May she be as sweet as bubblegum, but speak with a tongue that can cut like a razor blade. May she remind those around her that a boy does not determine your self-worth, that waiting in line for the tanning booth will not get you an education, and that Barbie should not come with a dream house, but a White House.
May she only feel small when she squanders her opportunities, not when the boys mock her five foot stature. May she love the acoustic versions of her favorite songs, and the stripped version of herself. May she walk with her head held high because her brain, although overflowing, does not deserve to droop low.
Shall my daughter grow up in the age of Photoshop, and fashion trends, and feeling inferior, may she color her face with the hues of experience, nip ignorance and tuck arrogance, and clothe insecurity with the newest style: self-confidence.
|—||Devon Hornberger. (via rockingtheworld)|
Ghandi didn’t say this. Martin Luther King Jr didn’t say this. Jesus Christ didn’t say this. MOTHERFUCKING MEWTWO SAID THIS ENLIGHTENING SHIT RIGHT HERE