Accidental Chemistry is Still Chemistry @kindachemist - Tumblr Blog

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

are you from hell? because i feel like satan just like... punted you up here...

exiled for misuse of the employee fridge

goldindawn

That’s the only reason?

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

i mean it’s the most compelling by far?

gossamerxrockstar

I’m not the best artist but I was inspired

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

satan dropkicked my ass

thebootydiaries

me: im adorable like im literally the cutest person in every room i walk into

me 4 seconds later: behold the trash lord

cookii-whore

ministryofinterior-deactivated2

bitch stop looking at me i do not exist

dateaboysuggestions

Date a boy who looks at you like you’re a masterpiece and makes you feel like art

cyootie-pie-deactivated20160626

date a girl who looks at you like you’re a masterpiece and makes you feel like art

thebootydiaries

i shoved a monet painting up my ass

that-crazy-girl-from-wisconsin

*you okay?

thebootydiaries

i died

anxietyproblem

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

attempting to lose weight should be referred to as downsizing!

catchymemes

Anti wolf heck collar

“The purpose of the collar is to protect the dog wearing it when it has to fight the wolves. The collar base protects the dog’s throat and carotid arteries, while the spikes are intended to deter bites to the neck or even injure wolves trying to do so.”

heatandapathy

“And what do you get from serving humans that you do not get from running free?” sneered the wolf.

“Free food, unconditional love and tactical upgrades,” replied the herding dog.

castle-engineer-deactivated2019

I see your anti-wolf dogs and raise you Spanish War Dogs.

icarus-in-fl1ght-deactivated202

I see your Spanish war dogs and raise you the Tibetan Mastiff, which was actually bred to fight tigers and has fur so thick that it doesn’t need armor

They’re also what I like to describe as ‘fuck you’ big

ren-allen

Lion dogs

angered-turtle

How do you fight tigers

By making a lion

kindachemist

The bestest bois.

sandersstudies

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

rebelminds

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

snarling-through-our-smiles

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out. I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing.

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back. “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before. Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed. I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house. I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like? I’ll put it into the group chat.” He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. “Um, it’s just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering. It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder. One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. “Girl! Hey, GIRL!!! We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me. I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old. One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.