VERY VERY VERY ROUGH TRANSLATIONS OF WHAT THE SONG SAYS ( i translated this from spanish like 5 minutes ago) UNTIL SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY IS GOOD AT THIS CAN DO WHAT A TRANSLATION IS REALLY MEANT TO BE LOL
AnasAbdin
styofa doing anything

titsay

⁂
Claire Keane
wallacepolsom
tumblr dot com

blake kathryn
Jules of Nature
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Mike Driver

shark vs the universe

ellievsbear
taylor price
Monterey Bay Aquarium
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Love Begins
RMH
KIROKAZE
Stranger Things

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Serbia
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from France

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Israel

seen from Iraq

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from France

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@celisia
VERY VERY VERY ROUGH TRANSLATIONS OF WHAT THE SONG SAYS ( i translated this from spanish like 5 minutes ago) UNTIL SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY IS GOOD AT THIS CAN DO WHAT A TRANSLATION IS REALLY MEANT TO BE LOL
Young dad and young mum ! <3
frozen grape dipped in chilled water
Forbidden dandelion
The St. Louis Star and Times, Missouri, March 5, 1914
I felt the need to know more about this woman so…
Her name at the time of this article was actually Elizabeth Hesford, not Hesperd, and as far as I can tell she never lived in London.
She was born Elizabeth Anna Maxwell on May 6, 1870 just outside of Manchester, England. She was baptized at St. Thomas’ Church in Pendleton.
Her father (James) was a mechanic, most likely in one of the area’s many cotton mills, and her mother (Emily) took in washing. James was Irish, a native of Dublin, but had come to Manchester with his family as a child just before the Potato Famine. He was working as a weaver in the cotton mills by the time he was twelve. James died the week of Elizabeth’s first birthday, leaving Emily a widow with two children under the age of five.
Emily married a man named John Matthews when Elizabeth was eight, but the marriage appears to been an unhappy one. The couple were living separately by the time Elizabeth was eleven; John having apparently left Emily for another woman.
Elizabeth’s brother John found work, first as an errand boy and later as a shipping clerk, to help out with the finances, but Emily’s mental health appears to have taken a severe hit after her husband left her.
In the early morning of January 5, 1886 Emily slit her own throat. John found her when he got up, but despite being rushed to Salford Royal Hospital Emily passed away early the next morning. Elizabeth was fourteen.
At some point before she was twenty Elizabeth and her brother moved in with a widow named Mary Rycroft. Mary’s two grown daughters worked as dressmakers and Elizabeth soon found work in the same trade.
In the fall of 1891 Elizabeth married a man named George Stroud. So far I’ve been able to find very little of substance about George except that he died less than four years after their marriage in May 1895.
On September 29, 1900 Elizabeth married again, this time to a man named John Hesford. John was working at a local rubber mill at the time they married, but he had recently ended a 12 year enlistment with British army, half of which he had spent in India. John’s military records say his conduct was “Exemplary” and that he had “Steady” and “Temperate” habits (although they also note that he sought treatment for STDs on at least three occasions).
Elizabeth sailed from Liverpool on the RMS Oceanic on September 7, 1904 and arrived in New York City on the 14th. On the manifest she stated that she was going to meet a friend named Joseph Saroglia at the Hotel Jefferson in St. Louis, Missouri. Joseph was Swiss Italian and had worked as an interpreter in Manchester, though after he came to the US he worked as everything from a tavern owner to a piano salesman to a game warden. He had come over on the same ship a few months before Elizabeth.
John Hesford followed Elizabeth to St. Louis five months later, sailing from Liverpool on the RMS Umbria on February 4, 1905. He stated on his immigration form that he was going to meet Elizabeth at the Hotel Bereford in St. Louis, so she was presumably living there at the time.
John first found work as a clerk at Joseph Saroglia’s saloon, then as a taxi driver, then a mechanic. By WWI he had worked his way up to being the foreman at McPherson’s Garage, and by 1930 at the Western Automobile Co.
When she wasn’t frightening away muggers (which apparently happened three times in two years) Elizabeth worked from home as a dressmaker/seamstress.
(If anyone has any idea what the “Jewish 400″ means in this context I’d love to know.)
She and John never had any children of their own, but for a time appear to have cared for a boy named Cornelius van der Pluym. Cornelius is listed as their “adopted son” on the 1920 Census, but the “adoption” appears to have been temporary as Cornelius was back with his birth parents by the next census.
John died of heart disease in 1936, and Elizabeth moved in with an unmarried woman named Irene Harrington and her housekeeper. Irene’s recently-deceased father was a retired police officer and appears to have been a man after Elizabeth’s own heart.
Elizabeth lived to be 78 years old. She died on April 20, 1949 at Pine Crest Nursing Home in Manchester, Missouri. Over 4,000 miles from the Manchester where she was born.
Elizabeth was cremated, but her remains were apparently never claimed and are still being stored at Oak Grove Cemetery in Bel-Nor, Missouri (just in case someone wanted to throw her ashes into the eyes of a mugger for old times’ sake).
Sound on!
Don’t feel bad if you’re sensitive to negative feedback because apparently after one particular bad review Hans Christian Andersen was found just sobbing while lying face down in the dirt
YOU LEFT OUT THE BEST PART THOUGH! HE WAS CRYING FACE DOWN IN THE DIRT IN CHARLES DICKENSEN´S YARD!!
WHERE HE HAD BEEN STAYING FOR WEEKS, LONG OVERSTAYING HIS WELCOME, AND WAS ANNOYING THE FUCK OUT OF DICKENS
Dickens: Where’s Anderson…?
*peeks out the window*
Anderson:
Dickens:
As a Dane I can confirm this is true. HC Andersen was a famous Danish author, mostly known for his fairytales such as The Little Mermaid, for those who don’t know.
HC Andersen was a sensitive widdle snowflake and I love him for it because he became famous and his stories are still loved by millions despite it 😂
A Ladies Velocipede-Race Bordeaux 1868
The first race of its kind.
When I was 12, I had a crush on on a boy in my class (we’d been in the same class since primary school). One day, I got a note from him saying that he liked me. I was really excited, but when I asked him about it, ge claimed that he wrote the note as a prank and that he liked another girl in our class because she was “prettier than me” and “could sing”. I had to strain myself to keep from crying because he was my first real crush. Every time I watch Hans tell Anna in Frozen, “If only there was someone who loved you,” it brings back memories of that day and hurts my feelings all over again.
men really be like “well this woman has studied this subject her whole life, and i am a man, so we have equal knowledge on this”
it’s ok you could have just said “i hate men”
okay, i hate men
Gladiatorial Match circa 347 AD (Colorized)
ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?
yo does anyone else feel CONSTANTLY guilty? like you’ve always done something wrong but you don’t know what it is?
Yes, and I’ve spoken to my therapist about it, who offered an explanation:
She says that people who from a young age were made to feel like they kept doing things wrong - people who’s parents had impossibly high standards for them, people who were bullied, people who have special needs, people who didn’t develop crushes on the “right” people, people who didn’t act like the “right” gender - basically ended up being made to feel guilty so much that guilt became their default response to everything. Guilt became the emotional response to anything which the person didn’t already have a set emotion for.
People for whom guilt is the default emotional response are also more likely to have low self-esteem, doubt their own experiences, and experience impostor syndrome. So, watch out for that too guys
Wow feeling guilt does all that
i need some victory today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Some days you just need a velociraptor on your side.
“It might be nice, it might be nice,
To have a velociraptor on your side”
Someone probably already posted this but this is legit the actual situation
@addareeds