505 @notthereallana - Tumblr Blog

Let’s all take a moment and thank biology that our internal organs don’t itch.

Fun fact: digestion is actually really painful but your brain just tells you it’s fine the same way it tells you not to bite off your fingure even though you can

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that’s… frustrating

redline-the-senses

Hey quick question why the FUCK doesn’t it do that for menstrual cramps

queersona

1 like: one pat for Cheddar

1 reblog: one SMOOCH for cheddar

queersona

I’M SMOOCHING AND PATTING AS FAST AS I CAN!!

gallusrostromegalus

F A S T E R

gosh

via weheartit

paleaged

me: logs into gmail from a different computer

my phone, having a nervous breakdown: if you don’t confirm your identity in the next ten seconds i’m gonna shoot your whole family and then myself

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I’m gonna apply for a job at Gordon Ramsay new restaurant and I’m gonna get it

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I submitted my application and resume

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I GOT THE FUCKING INTERVIEW

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My interview is in a few hours. I got this but wish me luck

countmackulla-deactivated201809

I GOT THE FUCKING JOB

922703

bingomann

reblog for good luck

writing-prompt-s

after dying god informs you that hell is a myth, and “everyone sins, its ok”. instead the dead are sorted into six “houses of heaven” based on the sins they chose.

wpsstories

We arrived first at the House of Lust. “House” is a misleading term. It was more of a camp, spread over acres and acres of lush forest. There was a white sandy beach (nude, of course) full of copulating couples. There were little cabins sprinkled all along the path, from which orgasmic moans regularly came belting out. Men with six pack abs and women with perky breasts strolled by without even noticing me and God. They only had eyes for each other, tickling and pinching each other with flirtatious giggles.

“What do you think?” God asked as we passed a nineteen-way taking place in a pool of champagne. Little cherubs flitted overhead armed with mops and cleaning supplies, thankfully. “Lust is our most popular sin.” I eyed the supermodel-like figures of a couple passing nearby, and could easily see why. “You can look however you want. Hell, you can be whatever gender you want. No fetish is too taboo, and no desire can be denied here.”

It was quite tempting, but I wasn’t ready to make a permanent decision here. “Let’s see the others,” I told God.

We carried on to Greed. We passed rows and rows of mansions, each more opulent than the next. Some of them were so large that they would have had enough bed rooms to fit my entire hometown. And so many different styles: one second, we were in a beautiful French vineyard in front of a gorgeous chateau with the Alps in the background. The next second, a warm tropical beach with a modern mansion atop breathtaking cliffs. After that, a ski chalet in Colorado with a roaring fire in a hearth large enough to fit an ox. Each one had various Italian sports cars and Rolls Royces parked in front, with the occasional smattering of boats, helicopters, etc.

“Any material desire you ever wanted,” God explained. “Your own world, where you can have everything. You want the Hope Diamond? You can fly to Washington DC in your own solid gold helicopter and buy it from the Smithsonian. Hell, you can just buy the Smithsonian.”

Also tempting, but I decided to keep looking.

Gluttony was next up. Tables and tables of the very finest foods: beautiful steaks cooked medium rare; butter-poached lobster tail; fresh oysters on a half shell; exotic wines in dusty bottles that had been hiding in the cellars of the world’s finest restaurants. Everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and simply lounged on couches and chairs near the tables, eating endlessly. As soon as the inhabitants took a bite, the food just instantly came back. My mouth watered even watching them.

“In every other House, the food is practically sawdust compared to Gluttony,” God explained. “You haven’t truly experienced heaven until you’ve been to Gluttony.”

I shook my head, and we kept moving.

Sloth was as you’d expect. An endless sea of the softest mattresses, stacked with cushions and pillows that made the story of the princess and the pea seem minimalist. Little angels visited each resident, giving them massages that made them all melt into their blankets.

Wrath was… well, a lot like what I’d expect Hell to be like. Fire, brimstone, whips, torture.. you know, the works. Except here, you weren’t the one being tortured. Every enemy you’d ever made in your real life was now under your thumb. “Lots of people choose their fathers,” God explained. “Lots of grudges against parents in general, you know. But you’re not limited to that. Someone beat you out for a big promotion back on Earth? Take your pound of flesh here.”

Then we arrived at Envy. It looked… well, a lot like home.

“Go on in,” God said, gesturing toward the door. I turned the knob and walked in… and found Emily waiting inside. She ran forward, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss right on my lips. “Welcome home, honey.”

I looked back toward God. “Oh, don’t be coy,” he said. “You have no secrets from me. We all know that you were in love with your best friend’s wife.” She didn’t seem to hear him at all; she went back into the hall. “We all know that you just settled for your own wife while secretly pining after her. Well, this is your chance to live happily ever after.”

I peered into the kitchen. Emily was baking something, wearing nothing but an apron. Her curly black hair fell softly over her shoulder as she whisked ingredients. She turned back, noticed I was observing her, and an enthusiastic smile spread across her face.

“It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” God whispered in my ear.

I wanted to take it. God damn did I want to take it. But I shook my head.

God seemed puzzled. “You need to make a decision,” he told me.

“I haven’t seen Pride yet.”

He scoffed. “No one ever wants Pride, trust me.”

“Well, I want to see it.”

_________________________

Pride was boring. Just a row of workbenches in a bare white room.

“I don’t get it,” I told God.

“Yeah, no one does,” he answered. “That’s why no one ever chooses it. Doesn’t cavorting in Lust sound better than sitting here building little trinkets for the rest of eternity? Wouldn’t you rather gorge yourself in Gluttony? Or spend time with Emily in Envy?”

I considered the options again. “I pick Pride,” I finally told him.

He narrowed his eyes. “What? Look at it!” He gestured around the room again. There wasn’t much to look at. “Why would you choose this for the rest of time?”

“Because you don’t want me to pick it,” I told him. If he was really God, he’d know what a contrarian I can be. And I knew he was hiding something, trying to pretend like Pride didn’t exist. There was something special about it.

God scowled back. “Fine.” He led me over to one of the workbenches. In the center, there was a black space. A blank, empty void that went on forever. “Here’s your universe,” he said. “You’ve got seven days to get started.” He took his seat at the bench next to me and went back to tinkering in his own world. After a long pause, he finally spoke again: “You know, it might be nice for me to actually have some company for once.”

garrettauthor

Hoooly shit, what a great ending.

jdkdndnemfm-deactivated20180307

who wants to hear the story about how a girl in my spanish 2 class fought back against the horrible spanish teacher and won

if this gets 2 notes i will tell it

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one note is good enough for me.

so there’s this girl in my spanish 2 class. we’ll call her kayla.

kayla is a sophomore. she is funny and outspoken and a little crazy. the main thing to remember about kayla is that she will stand up for herself when needed. and that’s why something happened with her and my spanish teacher.

we’ll call my teacher miss irving. miss irving has been teaching spanish for 30 years. she’s a little forceful, hates technology, and hates when people don’t just listen to her without questioning it.

it began when kayla entered class late near the beginning of the school year. “sorry, ma’am,” she said to miss irving. “i was at the counselor’s.”

miss irving looked up at kayla and asked for a pass. kayla didn’t have one, but she said that miss irving would be able to call the counselor and the counselor would verify her visit. miss irving refused to do so and gave her detention on the spot. kayla started trying to justify her own actions, and she received yet another detention.

this marked the beginning of a long, long feud. every time kayla did something, miss irving would reprimand her for it. kayla put on chapstick or began to eat in class and miss irving began to yell. kayla read a paragraph slower than the rest of us and miss irving would snap at her. slowly, kayla began to get fed up.

the last straw for her was when she asked miss irving to go to the counselor during class, and it changed everything.

“miss irving? i have an appointment with the counselor down the hall. may i go?”

“obviously not,” my teacher snapped back. “you can’t leave in the middle of the class.”

“but i need to see her, i have an appointme-“

“i don’t care. you’re going to translate that paragraph-“

“ma’am, i already translated it-“

“well, then i’ll give you more work to do-“

“no.”

at that word, all of the heads in the clasroom turned. it’s an unspoken rule that you don’t say no to miss irving. but kayla had fire in her voice, and was now standing up and glaring at the teacher.

“excuse me?” miss irving responded, and kayla went off.

“no matter what i do, you get on to me about it. i have issues that i need to take care of that you refuse to understand. you’re a teacher. you’re supposed to care about us. it’s your job! listen to me carefully: i. have. mental. health. problems. and there are times i need to eat in class or i need to go to the counselor’s office because of it, so could you just get off of my ass about it and try to understand?”

miss irving turned beet red and sent her to the principal’s office.

what followed was a battle between the two. miss irving kept emailing kayla’s parents, but kayla’s parents took their daughter’s side. then my teacher emailed kayla’s other teachers and asked them to take her side, but the other teachers said they didn’t ever have problems with kayla.

kayla went to talk to the principal about the situation and told her what was going on. the principal talked to miss irving, and miss irving lost her teacher of the year award for that year. she also received a strike on her teaching record for refusing to respect a student’s mental health protocol. and kayla won.

miss irving still teaches our class and we still have kayla with us. now, miss irving doesn’t hide her hatred for kayla at all. she expresses it fully to her other classes. and most of those other classes hate her as well.

but my class and i love kayla. because kayla has a newfound power, and she doesn’t take it for granted. instead, she uses it to help us.

and this matters so much to me because, one day, she helped me.

i have generalized anxiety disorder. one of the methods i can use to calm myself down is by doodling, and doodling also helps me listen more closely to the teacher’s lesson. so i started doodling on the edges of my papers in spanish a lot, especially when we started having tests every class period and it became very anxiety-inducing for me.

miss irving started taking points off for every doodle i made. and i mean A LOT of points. i drew an eye in the corner of a worksheet once and i got an 80 instead of a 100. when i tried to explain that it was for my anxiety, she didn’t care. so now i had even more anxiety because i couldn’t reduce my anxiety.

one day, miss irving was lecturing and i was doodling, when she started to yell at me for it.

i can’t remember a lot about what happened because at that moment i went into a full blown panic attack. but what i do remember is kayla standing up and yelling at her.

“what are you doing? stop! she’s obviously having a panic attack!”

she came over to my desk and led me through breathing exercises. calmed me down. told me my doodle of half a face looked really good, asked me how long i’d been taking art and about my disorder. the entire class was silent, watching, and miss irving was fuming.

when i was calm enough to, i thanked kayla, and she squeezed my hand in a silent alliance.

then miss irving walked back to the whiteboard and never said anything about my doodles again.

the moral of the story? just because a teacher or principal or parent is older than you doesn’t mean they deserve to be obeyed no matter what. if what your “elders” say to you or do to you belittles you, tears you down, or keeps you from being able to get help or be a better person, they are not doing their job, and you can stand up for yourself and others.

don’t be afraid to question the authority just because they say they shouldn’t be questioned.

onequartercanadian

Kayla’s a fucking hero

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any time u like a boy juss know u played yourself always keep that stored in ya mind for later

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It’s weird when you realize the person you once told everything to now has no idea what’s going on in your life

summersweeet

via weheartit

meanplastic

enfranchisement

WHAT THE FUCK

seabornsystem-remade-deactivate

life imitates rcdart

wellillbedamned

That’s a thumb

matchagirl

fermentedpiss2

this is the cow of death. reblog to die.

lifehackable

This is potentially life saving information everyone should know.

tarcroach

No you guys this post helped me find my cat. He was missing for almost a month and I’ve had him for over 12 years. After seeing this I put his favorite blanket he always slept on outside hoping he would smell mine or his scent and he was back the next fucking day asleep on it.

ittygittydiddynator

When my cat got out, we called and called for him, and then, later that night, I remembered similar advice to this, and so put his little scratching pad, which he adores, on the front porch. Not even half an hour later, I heard a thump, opened the door, and there was his big butt, meowing at me.