•I Hope Youre A Good Person•

*stressed, depressed, probably high, pissed at the world *

[humansofnewyork]

(1/5) “All I have to do is think real hard about something, and it happens. Been that way my entire life. When I was a little girl I thought real hard about learning how to swim. No Harlem kids knew how to swim, but my neighbor Mr. Thorpe was from the islands. He brought me to the beach with his family, put me on his shoulders, walked me in the water, and taught me how to swim. Next thing I thought about was playing basketball. I wasn’t even five feet tall, but I went to the Milbank Recreation Center and tried out for the team. Coach Cherry Jackson made me starting forward. I ended up scoring 34 points one night at Madison Square Garden. Played so hard that game I had an asthma attack. Anyway, whenever I think really hard about something, it happens. My two daughters really wanted to live in a brownstone when they were younger. But I was a second-grade teacher, so I could never afford it. One Christmas I went to the store and got them a brownstone dollhouse. Set it up in the living room. It was a big joke in our family: ‘Mom finally got us a brownstone.’ But even though I was laughing, I’d started thinking hard about getting a real brownstone. Around that time the city decided it would be holding its first ever brownstone lottery. I put in our name. My husband thought I was crazy. On the night of the drawing I was attending a seminar across town. Somebody brought me the phone, and on the other end my daughter is screaming that the lottery people called. We won a brownstone! I wrote down the address and hailed the first cab that drove down the street. When we finally got to the block, the driver started going real slow. It was so dark that we couldn’t find the house. Right as we were getting close to the address, a cop pulled up behind us and started flashing his lights. He knocked on the window, and asked if we were trying to buy drugs. I pointed right past him, into the darkness. I screamed ‘Officer! I just won that brownstone!’ That’s when he ran back to his car, turned on the search light, and swung it around. The entire façade of the house lit up. And I couldn’t breathe. My heart stopped. Because it was a giant version of the dollhouse in my living room.”

[childmagazine]

[illinicoise]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[spn-fandom-breathing-heavily]

not even risking that shit

[codyslipring-deactivated2015060]

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

[isamaegreenleaf]

Last comment same thing. Sorry to the next person who sees this. I just can’t risk it. I have things I need to do before my life becomes hell. Lol

[nnfirnid]

man i fucking hate yall who tf put this up knowing damn well we all gonna reblog it im heated im really sick af bout this 

[modelinterrupted]

I don’t play that shit lol sorry

[latenightsugar]

WHyyyy

[badgyal-k-deactivated20190901]

Sorry everyone

[just-jay25]

If only if only the woodpecker sighs the bark on the tree was as soft as the sky why the wolf waits below hungry and lonely he cries to the moon if only if only

[kixgbear]

Shiddd

[angiebkxo-deactivated20180626]

this post followed me to Facebook and im sooo annoyed!

[manynamedshe]

It’s been a MINUTE since I’ve seen Madame Zeroni, fr fr

[glamhoeour-deactivated20251207]

I HATE TUMBLR FKKKK SAKES

LMAOOOO

[venusians]

Not tryna fuck up any of my planetary Returns~

[andro-djinni-of-the-lamp]

I reblogged this yesterday but idc, I ain’t playing games with Madame Zeroni or Mama Kitt

[chocolatefantasy13-deactivated2]

😂😂

[honeybeeluck-deactivated2018101]

Madame Zeroni ain’t for play play

[imjustjason]

Fuck it, hope she bless me

[30thchamber-deactivated20190424]

But what if a nigga don’t reblog this and they great great great grand kid finds a treasure chest?🤔

[writefroot-deactivated20181124]

What year did this start? I’m always feels my like I have to reboot this

[groovychick-s]

not risking shitttt

[littlescorpion6]

The fuck, guys? I don’t even know who she is bur damn I’ve been cursed before so I ain’t risking

[happydaysandersen]

The fuck you mean you don’t know who she is?!

[siriuslycollins-blog]

she gets re-blogged on my dashboard at least once a week?

[n64s]

[humansofnewyork]

“I have two sons with the same condition. But Connolly had the toughest road, because he’s the oldest. And he had to figure everything out himself. I think it was around 4th grade when kids started calling him ‘Baldy’ on the playground. Some days he’d come home crying and say things like: ‘‘I miss my hair.’ That’s when the mama bear would come out. I wanted to fix the problem so badly. I knew a couple of the kids who were responsible, so I wanted to go to his school and speak to them. Never in a punitive way, but just to give them some information. But every time I offered, Connolly would tell me that it wasn’t necessary. He’s always been so self-assured, so he’d promise me that he was OK. His mind changed on the day when he wasn’t picked for a team at recess. He’s one of the most athletic kids in his class, so he knew it was for other reasons.  And on the way home from school, he told me: ‘I’m ready for you to come in now.’ We worked together to make a presentation. There were four different classes in his fourth grade, and we gave a speech to each of them. We stood up there together. I spoke first because I wanted to get out a few key pieces of information: ‘Alopecia is an autoimmune disease where your body rejects your hair. It’s not cancer. And it’s not contagious.’ But after that we’d open it up to questions, and that’s when Connolly took over. He’s such an outgoing kid. He started calling on all his friends. And wouldn’t you know—the kids who had picked on him were the ones raising their hands the highest. After that day, all the negative comments stopped. He finished elementary school without an issue, and he’s moving on to middle school with a strong group of advocates. My main worry now is his younger brother Damon, who just started kindergarten. He’s a bit more reserved than Connolly. He’s so sensitive and tender in that little boy way. And one day he came home crying because one of the kids had called him ‘Baldy.’ Connolly walked over, put his arm around Damon, and said: ‘Don’t worry, you’re just dealing with people who don’t understand.’ Then he turned to me and said: ‘I think it’s time we all gave an alopecia talk to Damon’s class.’”

[humansofnewyork]

“Grandma once broke up a knife fight in the neighborhood. She was quite proud of that. She kept the knife in a drawer as a trophy, and would tell the story to anyone who’d listen. Grandma was also very Italian. And very Catholic. She loved watching mass on the television, rosary in hand. And she loved the lottery. Big, big fan of the lottery. She was always on the lookout for numbers to play. Inspiration could come from anywhere: license plates, street numbers, radio stations. Then every night she’d watch the numbers roll out on Channel 8. But she hardly ever won. She used to split her winnings between her grandchildren, and it was never much. A couple bucks here and there. I remember getting $10 one time. Grandma was 89 when she passed away. On the day that she died I found a penny wedged into the sole of my shoe. Just a coincidence, I’m sure. But then I start finding pennies everywhere. But they’re pennies, right? They’re supposed to be everywhere, so maybe I was just grasping for signs. My academic advisor knew I was feeling sad, so she suggested that I study abroad. Of course I wanted to go to Italy, but even with scholarships it was like $10,000 more than regular tuition- so I didn’t even want to ask my parents. Fast forward a few months to Grandma’s birthday, when my family forces me to go to a remembrance mass. I’m not super religious so I’m sitting there the whole time thinking: ‘This is such bullshit.’ But then that night I had the craziest dream. I’m at a Cumberland Farms gas station near my house, scratching off a lottery ticket, and suddenly I start laughing because I won a bunch of money. The next day I text my friends that we’ve got to buy a lottery ticket. And when I met up with my friend Cassie after work that night, we headed straight to Cumberland Farms. I bought one lotto ticket. $5 Diamonds. I’d barely ever played before, and I’d certainly never bought a $5 scratch off. As soon as we got back to the car, I grabbed a penny and started scratching. Beyonce’s ‘Halo’ was playing on the radio. When I get to the third row of numbers, BAM. I had a match. $10,000. Enough to cover one whole semester in Florence.”

[showstudio]

[twoweeks]

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8-jfzsDNdO

[glassbonespaperskin]

[recaption]

[andywarnercomics]

In honor of Day of the Dead, here’s a repost of my comic about the San Francisco Columbarium and the man who spent 26 years restoring it.

This comic originally appeared on Medium at The Nib. Go check out my other work there.

[true-me-snafu]

Emmitt and the Columbarium.

[the-real-numbers-deactivated202]

[thesevenumbrellas]

In every scooby doo remake they get Fred’s personality all wrong, okay!? He is not the cocky and fearless leader. He lost his brain cells years ago! He’s a himbo to the core! He asks what color pink panther is. He wears a jeans vest (jest?) under his sweater. His bright idea is to split up and look for clues. Not once has that worked and yet he still wants to do it every single fucking time. Please respect the himbo.

[hadesfirst]

Can somebody put in the scene from the 2002 movie where Scooby is disguised as a grandmother and Fred goes “who’s the ugly chick”

[schizopyke]

[thatonelaoguy]

Dank.

[humansofnewyork]

“My husband got involved with a younger woman at work.  I was relaxed about it at first.  He’s thirteen years younger than me, so I thought: ‘Shit happens.’  But then she got pregnant.  Luckily through the divorce process I had the opportunity to take over this shithole place with no heating, which I’ve turned into an art studio. And now I’m living my best life.  Everything is for sale except the pink chandelier and the dog.  Anyone is free to stop by at anytime.  You can eat or drink whatever you want.  All the young people in the neighborhood love me.  I’m the oldest person in our friend group.  Everyone else is in their twenties or thirties.  They call me Queen Mama.  I call them my adopted kids.  I always help them with their school projects and resumes and interviews.  I only ask one thing in return.  Each of them has to teach me one new thing every week: a piece of music, a trend, an idea.  Just so I can stay up to date.  Before you take the photograph, let me go inside and put on some make-up.  We were out until 2 AM last night.” (Amsterdam, The Netherlands)

[post--grad]

i’m back at my ancestral home (lowe’s) and I just watched a very burly man in a lot of flannel carry a potted orchid SO TENDERLY across the parking lot

[raindancejodi]

A sentence that starts with “i’m back at my ancestral home (lowe’s)” has to work really hard to make the end of that sentence equally as amazing and by god you’ve done it

[artandspirituality]