heros-of-the-bluebox:

faeriesaurus:

heros-of-the-bluebox:

sluttyoliveoil:

cough

rough

though

through

why dont these words rhyme

but for some god forsaken reason pony and bologna do

why don’t bologna and lasagne rhyme

Because the English language is a jackass

danglingthpider:


m1ssc0mmun1cat10n:

floatinggoathead:

freemindfreebody:

swift-as-the-coursing-river:

jimcavill:

Because a man has to be a sociopath to love a woman with cellulite. Fuck this world. 

If all residents of hell look like Scarlett Johansson, I renounce my atheism and take up Satanism

whoever wrote this needs to be punched. a lot.

breaking news: man somehow isn’t repulsed at the sight of his beautiful, talented girlfriend because she has a bumpy texture on a bit of her legs

This just in: reporter unaware of how the female human body stores fat, having never seen one up close before.

If that’s what Hell looks like, I feel better about inevitably going there

danglingthpider:

m1ssc0mmun1cat10n:

floatinggoathead:

freemindfreebody:

swift-as-the-coursing-river:

jimcavill:

Because a man has to be a sociopath to love a woman with cellulite. 
Fuck this world. 

If all residents of hell look like Scarlett Johansson, I renounce my atheism and take up Satanism

whoever wrote this needs to be punched. a lot.

breaking news: man somehow isn’t repulsed at the sight of his beautiful, talented girlfriend because she has a bumpy texture on a bit of her legs

This just in: reporter unaware of how the female human body stores fat, having never seen one up close before.

If that’s what Hell looks like, I feel better about inevitably going there

fursonakin:

fun fact about me: when i was a freshman in high school, for the whole year i planned an april fools joke on my homophobic dad and i was gonna tell him that i was a lesbian and i had a girlfriend. by the time april fools day rolled around, i was really a lesbian and i had a girlfriend

triptophobias:

backwardsorbust:

ellavictorious:

That’s fucked up. That’s real fucked up. That’s some ice spider shit and I do not approve.

That is the sickest shit ever

i just imagined a tiny little ice-spider on the mirror singing ‘let it go’ as he builds his little icy webby fortress.

triptophobias:

backwardsorbust:

ellavictorious:

That’s fucked up. That’s real fucked up. That’s some ice spider shit and I do not approve.

That is the sickest shit ever

i just imagined a tiny little ice-spider on the mirror singing ‘let it go’ as he builds his little icy webby fortress.

micdotcom:

This Icelandic police force has the most adorable Instagram account 

Meet the Reykjavík Metropolitan Police, serving the capital of Iceland. By the looks of their incredible Instagram account, a normal day includes holding kittens, eating candy and wearing false mustaches.

There’s more where those came from | Follow micdotcom

hayleesocrazee:

coldaethyl:

charlie-in-a-beanie:

dutchnorkat:

skankmcmeow:

I see your shifting gaze, that disgusted glance. I know you’re questioning my parenting from across the elementary school assembly.

Let me tell you a little story about the kindergarten student with bright purple hair, my little Raven Marie…

A month before school started she decided to play hair stylist with the craft scissors, and to save what was left I had to opt for a pixie cut. She was absolutely devastated. It was about three hours before she stopped her harsh sobbing and hiccups.

Why?

She has thought that the length of a girls hair was what made her “girly”. I know I’ve personally had many hairstyles around her before, including a purple mohawk, which many people criticized as not being “girly” enough. Media, other children, other parents, and society made it worse. She would randomly burst in tears while out in public for the first week of her new style, screaming that she looked like a boy. That everyone would think she’s a boy.

At one point she took off her bow in her hair, threw it at a cashier and screamed, “I DON’T NEED THIS BOW TO TELL YOU THAT I’M NOT A BOY, BECAUSE I’M NOT”

Proudly stomping away in her blue jean overalls, head held high.

Once we edged closer to the first day of school she kept asking questions like, “Do you think the other kids will like me? Do you think they’ll be my friend? Will they think I’m a boy? Will they pick on me because I have boy hair?”

So I went to the grocery store, bought some dye, and spent the whole night transforming my bright blonde little girl into a plum punk rock fairy. I then assured her that if any of the kids didn’t like her, they were just jealous.

As for you, mothers and teachers with the wandering eyes filled with disgust and judgement, I’m in the business of raising a free spirit.

Here’s to you, Raven Marie. I love you.

SHE’S THE CUTEST OHMAHGOD CAN I HUG HER

I want that hair

LEt ‘em judge. They ain’t shit, so long as your child is HAPPY.

This is wonderful. Aw.