Interview Vampire Daily
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
occasionally subtle
Color Me Curious
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Origami Around
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
Doug Jones
blake kathryn
The Stonewall Inn
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š©µ avery cochrane š©µ
EXPECTATIONS
Mike Driver
tannertan36
shark vs the universe
bliss lane
Cosmic Funnies
šŖ¼
seen from United States
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seen from Thailand
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@riseandshinefolks
If i had a nickel everytime i watched a movie where the main character is a half-human girl, half-mythical creature based in East-Asian culture, whose story centered around self-acceptance and breaking generational trauma with the help of a boy band i'd have two nickels.
Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice...
I want to know who the fuck listed his name like that on the IMDB page of Persona 4 Golden
what genre of character is this
WHAT DO YOU MEAN IN THE ORIGINAL VERSION OF THE SCRIPT ORION WANTED D-16 TO WIN THE RACE BECAUSE HE THOUGHT HE WAS THE BEST AND STRONGEST MINER????
https://x.com/cpt_sunstark/status/1850082526142091598?t=KoMFqNAAJOr31QAKlPEwrg&s=19
IDW2 megop is crazyyy
asking for a friend!
How does one go about receiving commission money anonymously with international clients?
For context, this person who wants to host commissions resides in Asia, but wants to have clients in places like the US or Europe, but does not want to one their personal info for transactions...
Continuation of this post::
More of megatron's
I AM BEGGING PEOPLE TO CHECK THE TRANSFORMERS WIKI BECAUSE THE IMAGE CAPTIONS HAVE MADE ME PISS MYSELF LAUGHING LIKE
Here's examples from Megatrons tabs::
I can't believe tumblr suggestions would do this to me
if heaven and hell is real then you can call me a minecraft noob because I'm digging straight down
Help Caesar patch up his 23 stab wounds!
Bandages š©¹
Blood loss š©ø
Brutus š¶āāļø
For him to survive, the bandages need a higher percent than the blood lost percent
If Brutus gets exactly 69 percent, Caesar automatically dies
If Caesar loses more than 40 percent of his blood volume, he dies.
in light of recent events... (context ā¬ļø)
low quality break trio shitpost
My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
do they smoke weed?
Yes, actually.
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
Itās called a buntā¦. Not weed cigaretteā¦ And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They donāt look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Iām so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down Iām so mad.
YourĀ āweed smoking girlfriendā has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
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 twerpā¦. Donāt ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Donāt 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 WARNINGĀ
Well that escalated quicklyā¦ā¦
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they arenāt 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. Iām yelling so loud and now Iām crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I canāt take anymore. Iām 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*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that āI HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDSā, āTHEY ALL KISS MEā, and āTHEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURRā.
and letās not forget the āBlaizā and her āwicked tatā, or that he doesnāt āwanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever againā, and that this is āthe FINAL FUCKING WARNINGā.
āthe goo pile that is now your bodyā
iām dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, itāll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiotā¦ *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omgĀ
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. Iām 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 heās 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 Iām still Ā at the bar. You look to the exit, thereās still time. But thereās not, thereās not, thereās 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. Ā I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I havenāt shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and Iām 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, itās like that only instead of boots itās my muscles and instead of walking itās punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your familyā¦ Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insultedĀ theĀ 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 playingā¦ no playing you fuck. No playingā¦ it was real.. the realest thing Iāve ever know.. feltā¦ Love. I loved themā¦ Blaizā¦. Chas-Chasā¦ Funkā¦ I loved all three of emā¦ but theyā¦*My face is wet with tears and Iām blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left meā¦ leftā¦ *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?!Ā *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.Ā āPft, you brought this upon yourself dude.ā 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 meā¦ * 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.*
date of origin: 2015
me when they call my name at mcdonals (i am approaching the counter)
here you go sir
thank you
10 or 11 little ducks have been spotted crossing the dash board
