styofa doing anything
hello vonnie
ojovivo
dirt enthusiast

★

shark vs the universe
Three Goblin Art

if i look back, i am lost

pixel skylines

⁂
RMH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Love Begins
Peter Solarz
d e v o n

No title available

#extradirty

JVL
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
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@brittdubyaa
me when my fave song comes on after ive pressed shuffle 53 times
“Even if you come home late and I’m already asleep, just whisper in my ear one little thought you had today. Because I love the way you look at the world. And I’m so happy I get to be next to you and look at the world through your eyes.”
— Theodore Twombly, Her (via suspend)
can we stop putting tacky graphics on literally everything? ill be in forever 21 and find a shirt that looks like something id really want and then ill unfold it and itll say some shit like “slap my ass i love to drink coffee and radiate good vibes” and i just wanna know what i did to deserve this and who the fuck asked for that?
My tumblr is what the inside of my head looks like.
Gru is the most powerful being in the universe, and here’s why: according to the height of a Minion (which is 3.5 feet on average) Gru is 4 minions tall, which means he is a godly size of 14 feet tall. Second if any of you remember the original Despicable Me, you Know there is a scene when Vector kidnaps the three girls and shoots a series of heat-seeking misses at Gru, he then dodge them all. According to the speed of an average ballistic missile (1900 mph) and the size of the missile according to his ankle size, Gru can perceive and move at such a speed that the missiles only move 9.5 miles per hour, 0.5% of their original speed. Plus after this Gru punches a shark and it is paralyzed meaning its spine is probably shattered, to remind you it would require a force greater than 3,000 newtons to fracture the spine. That’s equal to the impact created by a 500-pound car crashing into a wall at 30 miles per hour. I rest my case.
yall why the fuck does this have sixty fucking notes stop
im on my hands and fucking knees please dont reblog this im gonna crytype if this gets 100+ notes Please Stop its already at 91 (92 counting this)
two hundred and fucking four notes. two hundred…. and fucking. four. notes. what is wrong with you people.
men will literally nut 45 seconds into sex and have the audacity to ask if you came. yeah i came to the wrong house
i posted this on twitter and some guy sent me his address
someone: so, what do you want in life?
me: so many plants
OH MY GOD
What are you, the hot sauce police?
So I like hot stuff. I’m not like, a dick about it. I don’t brag because there are people out there that can handle waaaay hotter foods than me. It’s not a competition. So I’m at Tijuana Flats, a “mexican” food restaurant chain famous for their hot sauce bar. All in all, what they put out on the bar isn’t the spiciest stuff in the world, but you’ll find some delicious gems in there. I immediately look at whatever is marked black as hottest for the day (they change them) and immediately go to pump some into the little paper containers provided when… “Whooaaa, sweetheart you don’t want to do that,” I turned around and there’s this skinny guy in jeans and a logo polo. There’s another dude wearing the same shirt, so they must have come here from some sad IT job. I’m a little taken aback at this dude’s presumption that I am ignorant to what I’m doing, but I blow it off. ”Nah, man, it’s got the black label, I haven’t tried this one yet.” ”Are you sure? It’s really spicy.” ”I’m pretty sure dude.” ”I don’t think you should, because it was a bit much for me.” At this point I’m feeling patronized. I stare at him. “It’s fine. Really.” “Oooookay,” He says in this exasperated, don’t-say-I-didn’t-warn-you kind of voice. I get my hot sauce and sit down. Food arrives, I taste it with a chip first to test. It’s super sweet, actually. I dump the whole thing on my taco. I don’t know if he’s watching. I go up to the counter and ask the manager to ring me up a bottle of the sauce to take home. It was pretty delicious! Manager says he’ll bring it to my table. They bring it, I pay, and the server asks if I’m into hot sauces - of course I say yes. Hot Sauce Police is now watching. She brings me an assortment of sauces they do not serve at the bar because of liability reasons. One of them was rated at 1.5 million Scoville units. I bought all of them, signing the credit card slip as he watches.
I finished my meal. Then I looked right at him and licked the fucking paper container when I was done.
It’s the two year anniversary of the incident.
Today I put my hand in my backpack and felt a stress ball and I was like “oh? I have a stress ball?” and I squeezed it and it was a pear and it exploded and now I’m much more stressed than I was earlier :/