August 20, 2014
grimsdark:

The next time a guy complains about being friendzoned, send him this picture.

grimsdark:

The next time a guy complains about being friendzoned, send him this picture.

(Source: peregrinemendicant, via itsraininbritishmen)

August 20, 2014
catastrophic-fallen-angel:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity
Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.
However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.
Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!
But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.
The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
But you remain.
Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.
All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.
But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.
Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. 
Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 
OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
A LAMINATED
PAPER
T OW E L
IDK MAN,
I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book
and the pages of that book
were made out of
laminated
paper towels


DO ITFUCKING DO IT BECAUSE NO ONE WILL UNDERSTAND WHYEXCEPT WE WOULDWE WOULD BECAUSE OF THIS POSTAND DAMN ITLL BE THE DEEPEST SHIT TO EVER DEEP

catastrophic-fallen-angel:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity

Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.

However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.

Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.

So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!

But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.

Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.

The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.

But you remain.

Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.

All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.

But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?

Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.

The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.

Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever.

Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 

OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON

AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN

A LAMINATED

PAPER

T OW E L

IDK MAN,

I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book

and the pages of that book

were made out of

laminated

paper towels

DO IT
FUCKING DO IT BECAUSE NO ONE WILL UNDERSTAND WHY

EXCEPT WE WOULD

WE WOULD BECAUSE OF THIS POST

AND DAMN ITLL BE THE DEEPEST SHIT TO EVER DEEP

(Source: portal-mouth, via the-gays-of-our-lives)

August 19, 2014

(Source: asmilinggoddess, via the-gays-of-our-lives)

August 19, 2014
cofierce:

Protester in ATL for #MikeBrown #Ferguson

cofierce:

Protester in ATL for #MikeBrown #Ferguson

(via bryarly)

August 19, 2014
100% true horoscope facts

ashkinator:

aries: sexually frustrated at everything
taurus: really nice but dead inside
gemini: mostly just hungry
cancer: in the closet but not really
leo: super gay for everyone
virgo: promises not to tell and then tells everyone
libra: lazy assholes like seriously do something with your life
scorpio: i’ve never met one but they’re all jerks
sagittarius: always boning your mom
capricorn: loves everyone but loves themselves more
aquarius: never not killing you
pisces: big booty bitches

(via bryarly)

August 19, 2014
smootymormonhelldream:

Amnesty International just got real.

smootymormonhelldream:

Amnesty International just got real.

(via glitterkaiju)

August 19, 2014

(Source: mrbenwyatt, via youre-whalcome)

August 19, 2014
"David [Bowie] quietly tells me, ‘You know, I’ve had so much sex and drugs that I can’t believe I’m still alive,’ and I loudly tell him, ‘You know, I’ve had SO LITTLE sex and drugs that I can’t believe I’m still alive."

— Morrissey, Autobiography  (via leftbehindandsour)

(via glitterkaiju)

August 19, 2014

gravity-gravity:

Source: Alvhem Makleri

(via rapunzelie)

August 19, 2014

msruhhnoir:

myokcupidtragedy:

subarbievol:

Straight boys like “lets threesome” but can’t even please one woman

ATTENTION EVERYONE THIS IS THE REALEST SHIT I’VE EVER READ

Just say “sure babe, let’s get another guy in here” and see how quickly they shut down.

(via skinjackerr)

August 18, 2014

sirenboy:

image

dude i hope you know that “je suis le pain” translates into “i am the bread”

(via chekhovyourprivilege)

August 18, 2014

appropriately-inappropriate:

marktwainsheadonablanket:

Killing Us Softly 4, with Ed. D Jean Kilbourne

I have irrational contempt for Jean Kilbourne. She’s literally been singing the same song for over 20 years without making a damn bit of difference. She’s ineffective at everything except collecting ads and projecting them on a PowerPoint.

This is the risk you run when you make your living off oppression. You get complacent and boring.

She’s been singing the same song for twenty years, true, but the fact of the matter is, the things she’s singing about haven’t changed. Her words, whether written in ‘94 or ‘14, are never the less still relevant.

The fact that she hasn’t seen concrete results has very little to do with her complacency (and can it really be called complacency if she’s spent—as you say—20 years speaking out against it? Complacency is to become complacent, or in other words, permissive. That, she’s not.) and everything to do with the fact that she’s up against a multibillion dollar advertising and beauty industry fueled by a millenia of sexist oppression.

It’s unlikely that any one woman, no matter how well-presented her powerpoints, will be able to change that.

But as you said. You already recognize your dislike of her is irrational. My question to you is, if you recognize that it’s irrational, why persist in it?

(Source: exgynocraticgrrl, via radicalfairyfeminist)

August 18, 2014

allykennedy96:

I’m so romantically frustrated. Like I just want someone to lay in bed with me and play with hair and kiss me and maybe touch me inappropriately because I’m also sexually frustrated.

(via thebatsknees)

August 18, 2014

skepticbehavior:

Here am I floating round my tin can

Far above the moon

Planet earth is blue

And there’s nothing I can do.” 

(via soleilvioleta)

August 18, 2014
When The Media Treats White Suspects And Killers Better Than Black Victicms.

politicalsexkitten:

curvesincolor:

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

via The Huffington Post.

"It has nothing to do with race"

(via heckaokay)

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