@queercored - Tumblr Blog

"dont smoke around your pets" okay well i dont even smoke im asthmatic. my dog smokes bc she needs to fucking chill sometimes and Yeah i light them for her Obviously bc she cant use a lighter. i dont get anyrhing out of this arrangment and i resent the implication. in fact shes giving ME secondhand smoke. so my question is why are you so hateful and jugemental and acting like an asshole to me making presumptions and shit about my life.

ivanoyva

What. What. What. What.

leolaroot

im gonna pop some.tag

edsrosetattoo

This is the best idea in the history of film.

kyrianne

babyteethyy

Fig Faeth Stimboard 🔥🎸

🎸 - 🔥 - 🎸

🛹 - 🎸 - 🛹

🎸 - 🔥 - 🎸

pisshandkerchief

did you imagine your own tragic death a lot as a child or are you normal

suntara

my favorite love language is trying, actually

suntara

like when people try to learn your hobbies or try to play the same sports that you play in an effort to get closer to you, people who try to love you the way you love people, people who will go to places you want to visit just for your sake, people remembering, putting in an effort. just. trying

bungcar

thespongebobsquarepantsmovie

love wins moodboard

maliciousindungeon

happy pride

pen-pen-pon

can’t believe you guys left out the entire stacy’s dad amv

howlbear

I really feel like D20 benefits from rewatches because I truly forget how many actual important things get started by the stupidest bits

Like wtf do you mean Night Yorb started by Riz trying to make an anagram out of Garthy O'brien

thejorie-deactivated20160327

My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.

pebleeee-deactivated20151227

do they smoke weed?

thejorie-deactivated20160327

Yes, actually.

gucciballs-deactivated20200720

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?

thejorie-deactivated20160327

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

gccgrimm-deactivated20160818

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

thejorie-deactivated20160327

Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

madamekagamine

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

thejorie-deactivated20160327

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING

19leahjade96

Well that escalated quickly……

thejorie-deactivated20160327

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

jackaxed

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

thejorie-deactivated20160327

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

anemonequeen-moved

this dude playin omg

thejorie-deactivated20160327

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*