I can’t sing along to Mr. Sandman without singing “man me a sand” and I hate this website
Peter Solarz
RMH
occasionally subtle
NASA

JVL
cherry valley forever

Product Placement
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

roma★
taylor price
we're not kids anymore.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
h
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Kaledo Art
Game of Thrones Daily

⁂
art blog(derogatory)

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@joetrohwiththefro
I can’t sing along to Mr. Sandman without singing “man me a sand” and I hate this website
i don’t wanna make it. i just wanna-
MCR 22 Day Photoshop Challenge
#4: Favorite Album Appreciation - Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge
By George, this picture is on point.
…. goddammit, that’s a *pun*
WHAT THE HELL
Brilliant
How’s It Going to Be // Gerard Way
A Genie offers you one wish, and you modestly wish to have a very productive 2017. The genie misunderstands, and for the rest of your life, every 20:17 you become impossibly productive for just 60 seconds.
“Well, it was a nice day.” You kiss your sweetheart gently on the forehead and sigh as the last remaining seconds of 20:16 tick away. “See you at 8:18,” you say.
Then it happens. Every ounce of fatigue or hunger leaves your body. The face of your beloved is perfectly still, their expression exactly the same. The ticking of the clock on the wall has stopped. Once again, it’s 20:17.
You stretch your arms and walk to the table with the homework for the three doctorates you’re working on. The work is mentally stimulating and enjoyable, but it’s finished far too quickly. You check your pocket watch and see that not even one hundredth of a second has passed.
You knew it was too soon to be able to see any movement on the watch, but you can never quite help yourself from looking early on every 20:17. Time to move on.
You clean your home, do your budget, then go outside and fix a noise that your car was making earlier that afternoon. (Oh how you already miss afternoons.) Then you go back inside, boot up your computer (which magically speeds up to keep pace with you as long as you’re in contact with it) and check for any new orders.
You’ve set up a website for the small business you started called “Magic Elf Services.” People in your area can pay a modest fee on your site to have different tasks and odd jobs done by “The Magic Elf” at 8:17pm every day. It was a little slow to get started, but word has spread and these days you have a steady stream of clients.
The money that comes in from the business is nice, but you’re mostly grateful that it gives you a clear list of things to do. You print off your updated list of clients, step outside, and start making your way through the neighborhood with your to-do list.
There’s the apartments down your street where several neighbors have hired you to tidy up, do the dishes, and mop the floors. You do the windows too, just to see if they notice. There’s the large house across town that paid the “Magic Elf” to clean out the gutters. After the first dozen jobs are done, you manage to stop looking at your pocket watch.
As near as you’ve been able to determine in the past, 20:17 seems to last for approximately one normal year. But it’s not exact. For one thing, it’s hard to keep track of “time” when everything but you has crawled to an almost total standstill. For another thing, time seems to move differently depending on how “productive” your behavior is. One time you tried to spend all of 20:17 sitting at home in your pajamas, but that was getting you nowhere, so you eventually gave up and got busy. (Though you defiantly stayed in your pajamas the whole time.)
During 20:17 your body doesn’t get tired, hungry, sick, or injured. You’re essentially tireless and immortal for the duration of the “minute.” So sleeping or eating away your boredom has never really worked for you.
One of the houses on your list forgot to follow the instructions and leave a key for you to get in. At first you figure you’ll just send them an email telling them to pay more attention and that you’ll do the job tomorrow. Then you decide to go home, get your locksmith tools, and come back.
After finishing up all the jobs on your list, you go into several other homes and small businesses in the area, performing tasks you hope they’ll find helpful, and leaving a hand-painted business card at each one. (The business cards don’t contain your real name just in case somebody thinks “The Magic Elf” should be subject to breaking and entering laws.)
Speaking of laws, you head down to the local police station to pick up your case file. You’ve been in contact with a detective who’s been investigating corruption within their department, and your ability to investigate unseen and get in almost anywhere between the ticks of the clock has proven invaluable. You see that they’ve also added five missing person cases to your file this evening, which certainly raises your interest in the job.
You make your way through town gathering evidence, and start making your way to the outskirts of town. Since you happen to be out that way (and you’ve already solved three of the five missing person cases) you decide to swing by the stone castle you’re building and do some more work there.
The castle walls stand about 20 feet right now, but you know they’ll be much higher when you’re done. You’re far from any roads and pretty safely tucked away, so for now it’s your little secret. You’ve been excavating and moving all the rock yourself, which has been much easier than you first expected since your body doesn’t get tired or sore. You’ve also got a nice system of tunnels going underneath the castle, and you dig and build more of that network for a while.
All that time spent underground has left you feeling rather lonely, so you walk back home to see the face of your sweetheart. Their facial expression has moved ever so slightly since you last saw them, which is a comfort to you. Looking at them gets your imagination going and makes you dream up a story you’d like to tell, so you sit on your couch, plug in your laptop, and write a book.
After you finish editing the last chapter for the third time, you finally allow yourself to look at your pocket watch again. Three seconds have officially passed so far.
It’s gonna be a long 20:17.
Wow, Dave. You managed to take a concept that seems nice on the exterior and make it into a real nightmare. This is some good stuff.
Which is EXACTLY why you should never trust a wish-granting djinn.
Storm don’t play.
We all need to aspire to Storm’s level of pettiness.
stores to cry in, rated
wal-mart: pedestrian, boring, you can do better. 2/10
target: a slightly better crying experience than wal-mart. the scent is strangely comforting, the lights however are too bright and make for a slightly unpleasant cry. there is however oftentimes a starbucks and a mini pizza hut inside for you to drown your sorrows in. 6/10, points for optimal post-cry atmosphere
an apple store: absolutely not. people cry in the apple store all the time because they cant afford the latest rose gold bullshit apple’s put out. overdone and cliche. 1/10
publix: points lost for the sterile and inhospitable environment but if you cry in a publix a gator WILL smell your tears and come to eat you. being eaten by a gator is in fact slightly preferable to crying in a publix. 6/10 for the gator
whole foods: an excellent place for a cry, people will probably assume that you are a wealthy emotional person who cant decide between quinoa or couscous and are having a real problem with it. 8.5/10 nordstrom: plenty of chairs for collapsing into especially in the shoe department but you WILL be accosted by salespeople. they work on commission and are hungry for your money. 7/10 for style ikea: OPTIMAL crying destination, can climb into a bed and have a total mental breakdown and nobody will ever be the wiser, the employees WILL NOT bother you under any circumstances, comfortable and accessible, 10/10 hot topic: no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 0/10
Dsmn 99, she’s a baller.
useless ancient roman law facts
if you call someone to witness and they refused to show up, you are legally entitled to stand outside their house and scream, but only every third day
you can sell your son into slavery once or twice, but after the third time he doesn’t have to put up with that shit anymore
no wailing allowed at funerals
also you can only have ONE funeral per person, don’t get greedy
if your neighbor’s tree has a branch hanging into your yard, you can legally cut down the entire fucking tree
however, if some of your neighbor’s fruit from his dumb tree falls into your yard, he can legally come into your yard to snoop around get it
if you call someone to witness and they’re too sick or old to get to court themselves, you have to provide a cart for them to come in, but it doesn’t have to be, like, a nice cart if you don’t want it to
#…if these are actually true im gonna scream (via @dragonchantant)
they are indeed real! they’re from the twelve tables, a roman law text so old that it’s hard for even people who are well-versed in latin to read by the text is archaic (also half of it is missing but whatever)
while we’re on the subject, here are some more good ones that i forgot to put in:
the penalty for writing a song slandering someone (it’s very specific on the song bit) is getting clubbed to death
if you hurt someone (or if you just sort of inconvenience them) through magic arts, the penalty for that is also death
however if you maim someone’s limb through normal limb-maiming processes you just sort of have to figure things out between yourselves
if there’s a road right next to your property, feel free to build a fence around it to prevent people from driving into it, but if you don’t build your own fence then tough shit
if you waste all your money you can legally be prevented from wasting even more of your money
if you’re a woman and you live with a man for a year, that technically makes you married, unless you spend three successive nights at somewhere other than his house, in which case you’re not married i guess
trust dog
these are the edits that got the todd howard page protected
Did i tell u all the story of how Owen Wilson came into my work during Pride? And I was like “Hey hows it going!” And his voice is SUPER recognisable an he goes “Yeaaah, im awlrigght” so im like o shit its owen wilson
I asked him if he was going to the Pride parade n hes like “The priiide paraaade?” Yeah its like thousands of people its huge. And he did THE owen wilson “Whaow” and it changed my life.
Last time he was in he was sad we had no green juice left but before he left i was like dam i dont want him 2 leave all sad n dehydrated so i was like ?? We have this weird ass black charcoal chia seed lemonade that looks like an evil frogspawn potion, n owen wilson seems like he’d be into sum weird shit so i was like hey wait you wanna try this??
And hes like “whaow…what is thaat” before i can even list the ingredients hes just picked it up n taken the lid off and drank half of it in one go and he stops n stares at me for a beat and just says super monotone “I like it.”
Anyways its always a trip when hes in the store
when I was in fifth grade he was in a car behind me bus and I kept flipping him off and I feel so bad about it
perfect couple: one person has cold hands, the other has warm hands. together, they maintain the ideal temperature for hand holding
relationship goals: thermodynamic equilibrium
[walks up to a couple] so which of you is the source and which is the sink?
here comes that special boy!!
I only wish to share the truth of the universe. My Immortal was not written as a joke. It was taken seriously in the mind of its author. I know much. I have seen the lost, unpublished chapters. I know the truth about the rift that occurred between the author and her friend. I know it all. Because I know where to find the author herself.
This is what it feels like to be Agent Mulder. I want to chase you down eight flights of a parking garage, screaming at you about what your name is and how you know this, desperate to know if I can trust this information.
best dance dance bits
-“homecoming?” written in fucking fire. who the Fuck let pete wentz on the loose -“so uh hh. this is a. Dance u kno and i was jsut wondering if u wanted to . uh. dance” -the cheesy bathroom scene. “B^) no way man” -andy in the corner reading -THE TROHMANIA SHOT -pete licking joes guitar -t h e h e a r t -pete accidentally stabbing his date with the corsage -andy gets the girl (add onto the Many times where andy gets the girl in a fob video) -their OUTFITS. EVRYTHING. THE WHOLE AESTHETIC -patrick fucking THRASHING about in the crowd and not giving a Fuck -joe cheering on pete -petes . fucking. dance. the most iconic fucking bit of All Time, fuck you