@andmoar - Tumblr Blog

Giving money away

Hey everyone, I’m giving a thousand away again, I’ll pick a random reblog, i really don’t want this money, it doesn’t make me happy and I’m hoping it’ll make someone else happy

Share the love and I’ll share my money

nimarkiva

I mean, doesn’t hurt to try? At worst, eh, Nim did something silly, at best…awesome, I know what my mom and brother could do with funds like that.

anime-diary-blog

musashi

thoughts on the friendzone

when i was 5 years old my best friend was a boy named kyle who didn’t know how to knock on doors so he made dinosaur noises outside my window to wake me up in the summer until i demonstrated how to ball his fists and slam them against my doors. we collected caterpillars in my trailer park and built them houses while we traded pokemon cards. he wasn’t the only one. there was ben, and mitch, and noah—but kyle’s the only one who hurt me, because when he tried to kiss me and i asked him why, he told me “because you’re a girl and i’m a boy, shouldn’t we like each other?”

i missed him so much and i wondered why he couldn’t just be my friend like he always was

in the first grade there was rich and joseph and i got sent to detention with them almost every day with a smile on my face. we built block towers and sang to my teacher’s lion king soundtracks when she’d turn the lights off during lunch time. one day they got in a fist fight over me at recess, and i wondered why they felt they needed to share my friendship, like it was something they owned.

in the second grade zach and i played yu gi oh under our desks during free time and i got moved for talking to him constantly. everyone in the class would tease him and i for talking, asking when we were going to date already, asking him if he’d kissed me, and he stopped being my friend.

when i was 11 i met a chubby boy with the name of a colour who wore puffy vests and unwashed t-shirts, with greasy hair and bright blue eyes and a smile that hid hurt behind it. people didn’t like him because he was silly, but i liked him, because i was also silly. he became my friend the day he bought me 5 giant roses and asked me to be his girlfriend, and i politely declined but promised him i’d be his best friend because i’d always wanted a best guy friend that stuck around. we burnt our feet on the concrete during the summer and walked home with the sunset silhouetting us. he talked often about how he loved me, but never blamed me for being me, even though he refused to move on. that boy dyed his hair jet black and sat on the end of my bed playing songs to me on guitar, and all that pent up rage from before didn’t show until the first time he slapped me across the face and called me a dumb cunt.

in the 7th grade there was a boy named ryan who sat next to me on the bus and talked to me about manga. he’d ask me personal invasive questions but i didn’t mind because it was attention and i liked attention. i was dating another guitarist with curly brown hair, one who was much more kind-tempered than the other, and ryan mentioned how much of an asshole he was every day. i wondered, why, why does he think the love of my life is an asshole? but whenever i asked him, he just told me, “girls only date assholes. there’s no room for nice guys like me.”

i wondered, if he was so nice, why did he say such mean things?

he never stopped with me, taking me to movies, hanging out with me, you know. being friendly. i thought we were friends. but then, how many times had i thought that before?

how many times had i bonded with a boy, thought they got me, only for them to ask me if i wanted to make out?

how come when i told ryan i was coming out as a lesbian, he stopped being my friend, and said “damnit, the one girl i really want to pound into a mattress, and she’s only interested in chicks!”

there was a boy my junior year who stayed up all night with me until the sun rose, talking about life, past loves, hopes, dreams. beneath a million twinkling stars spanning forever, he brushed long brown hair out of his eyes and listened to me talk about the history that made me. then he asked me if i’d ever consider dating a guy, and complained about how he’d never get laid.

when i told him no a couple hundred times, he found new girls to listen to.

i would sit on the couch and play zelda with dakota, and he’d talk about all my favourite games with me. he was the closest thing to support i had, and the letters and poems he wrote me were always so kind and friendly. but he’d put his arms around me on the couch, and no matter how many times i told him i was uncomfortable, he’d still come over every day and do it.

“don’t you know how it feels to love someone and not have them love you back? don’t you know what it feels like to be friendzoned?”

when i meet guys who talk about the friendzone, who talk about the girls who don’t give “nice guys” like them i chance, i always want to just say

when i was 10 years old i met a girl whose brown hair fell across her shoulders and whos eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit them, whose voice was like velvet and whose scent was like mountain smoke, who made me dizzier than a fly climbing a sugar hill. and i’m 18 years old, and i still love her, and she knows, and she doesn’t love me.

but my first thoughts upon hearing her rejection were not “what a bitch,” were not “she just wants a douchebag and not a nice girl like me!” were not “im going to keep pushing her until she dates me,”

they were

“she is the best friend i have ever had, and i am the best she’s ever had, and i would hate to take that away from her.”

so before you play the victim, mr. Nice Guy, before you angrily throw your fedora on the ground and blame the girl you claim to adore so much:

put yourself in the shoes of a girl who thought she made a wonderful friend, only to find out that he just wanted her for sex. that he just wanted her for a relationship. a girl who was just an object to win, a prize. a girl who’s trust you’ve just shattered.

maybe she friendzoned you. but you girlfriendzoned her, first.

nyahchatnoir

I am clapping for this, you just can’t see it.

howellaboutphil-blog

okay honestly wow I’m oh my god just

the-bowl888

GIRLFRIENDZONED!! OH MY GOD YES

gotinstarblog-deactivated201512

half-black-phillip

I’m so mad because this worked

britney2007spears

help me roger

telanu

Reblogging myself because

Originally posted by gifs-for-the-masses

luthienebonyx

Reblogging myself because… what was that? Five minutes?

O_O

riskpig

………my friend has made me curious

maryburgers

help me roger

maryburgers

Update: after I reblogged this someone messaged me offering me tickets to the sold out Hausu screening with a Q&A and autograph session with the director

zombbeans

These never work for me, but here’s to trying.

strangenewclassrooms

I don’t believe in these things

But last time I reblogged one ten/fifteen minutes later I got a call offering me a job

But I reblogged it because I was waiting on hearing back from the job. So there you go.

Roger is cute.

sugared-violets

Eh Roger is cute I might as well

secondlina

That fish is so happy it makes me happy.

cinnappo

Reblogging myself because I reblogged this yesterday and got promoted today!

mysweetminiaussie

oh what the hell…lol.

thefitally-deactivated20170430

this is important

thefingerfuckingfemalefury

ROGER WORKS

unuthasbook-blog

Roger please work your magic I need it now more than ever.

hushabyevalley

Been years since I last did any art of this lil alien. Here portrayed with the scientist lady responsible for her.

beammeupbetta

Anyone know a way to make gifs from photos that doesn’t completely decimate the quality? I’m dying here. I’m currently using gimp and the quality is downright disgusting. Any better options?

ithilienbjd

I’m trying to get my triathlon entry together and it might just kill me. help?

andmoar

Photoshop has good quality.

refinery29

Watch: Leslie Jones gave a touching tribute to Whoopi Goldberg about why representation matters

Gifs: The View

stillrestlesstymes

Just beautiful <3 @lemonade-time

medie

oh my god. Imagine being Whoopi and hearing that though.

Well, when I was nine years old Star Trek came on,“ Goldberg says. “I looked at it and I went screaming through the house, ‘Come here, mum, everybody, come quick, come quick, there’s a black lady on television and she ain’t no maid!’ I knew right then and there I could be anything I wanted to be.” - See more at: http://www.startrek.com/database_article/goldberg-whoopi#sthash.gKeuf3XI.dpuf

That’s three generations. Nichelle Nichols to Whoopi Goldberg to Leslie Jones.

Originally posted by geekandsundry

Representation fucking matters.

@steviemcface

i wan’t ready

This is worth listening to the sound.

thessalian

No, seriously, UNMUTE THIS.

digg

this tip tho!!!!!!!!

rikkipoynter

I need to try this for trips I only bring a carry-on to.

rattlecat

I use to do this all the time in the military. Just forgot how to over time o.o

dancing-coyote

I wish I’d known about this when I was homeless.

I could’ve taught it to all the other ladies at the shelter and Darlene could’ve sucked a sour one because she never would have been able to bitch at us for “having too many clothes.”