very big fan of when shows put wigs on actors and say ‘yeah. That’s him when he was younger fuck you’. No anti aging ai, no teen actor hired. Just. The same guy with a fuckass wig
@ultravaginalprolapse
very big fan of when shows put wigs on actors and say ‘yeah. That’s him when he was younger fuck you’. No anti aging ai, no teen actor hired. Just. The same guy with a fuckass wig
Sequences from my finished animation. Inspired by a dog named Teacake.
everyone should delete tiktok except this guy i wanna be alone with them
And for people who do not have children - 20 years from now you will only have an empty space where wonderful time with your friends, your partner, and yourself will be. You won’t remember (or likely profit from) the Very Important Thing your company needed you for. You will be poorer for it, because in that space and time you could have had concerts, dancing, being there for friends that needed you, reading a great book, learning a new language, trying a different recipe, drinking wine and sharing your thoughts with someone you love.
Live your life for yourself and the people that love you - not for a corporation or a company.
this silly little page is the best time capsule i have of being a teenager, it will remain forever
why isnt there an italian overwatch hero
i bet you feel real fucking stupid right now.
i’ve mentioned this here before, but it will remain one of the most ideologically influential experiences of my life: when i was in fifth grade i did a report on post traumatic stress as manifested in veterans of the vietnam war, and my father did me the huge favor of connecting me w/ a vietnam vet friend of his who was diagnosed with PTSD, assuring him that while i was only ten i was bright and curious and he should be as honest with me about his experience as possible.
i remember entering his office with my tape recorder, sitting in a chair that was too big, and asking him questions about war, and his life after war, while swinging my legs over the edge of the chair. i remember being very, very quiet as he spoke of pulling the car over on the highway for fear of crashing when his hands would shake uncontrollably in response to song on the radio or a smell that he couldn’t be sure was real or sense-memory. and of ruined relationships and anger and american hypocrisy.
and i also remember that was the day i learned what “valor” meant. he used “valor” in a sentence and i didn’t know that word, and when i asked him to explain “valor” he became very quiet. and i can’t remember precisely what he said, if he ever offered me the dictionary definition or not, but i do remember him looking very sad, and saying something about our country’s idea of “valor”, and also something about a broken promise. and there was an edge to his words that i couldn’t parse at the time that i would later come to understand was bitterness, that he sounded bitter.
to this day i can’t hear or read the word “valor” without seeing sunlight coming through his office window at a slant, close-to-sunset light, and feeling the kind of quiet, confused, completely internalized panic a child feels when they sense that a grown up is trying very hard not to weep in their presence.
[id: screenshots of tiktok captions. the images say, “but the only reason we still love princess diana is because she did not have the time to disappoint us.”]
begging queer kids to read up on princess diana’s involvement with the community. yes, she was a rich, pretty monarch. yes, she died young.
but the reason why queer people love her is because she used her privilege during the aids crisis to advocate for sick queer men, when very few others would - much less someone of her status.
diana spent years advocating for the health and care of queer people with hiv/aids. in 1987, at the height of the epidemic, she opened the first specialist clinic dedicated to treating aids patients (the first clinic of it’s kind in the uk).
she also fought public hysteria by hugging and shaking bare hands with aids patients, at a time when aids was thought to be spread by skin to skin contact. not only that, she visited patients in the clinic regularly and even comforted them through their sickness.
and when queen elizabeth told her to try focusing on “something more pleasant”?
diana ignored her and kept fighting.
and this is only her work towards the aids crisis. she publicly called out the royal family, brought attention to numerous world issues, and was known as an advocate for empathy and kindness. she’s known and loved as the people’s princess for good reason
i love this tumblr ad. i dont even want to google it cause i never want to know what its for. its like art to me
ok never mind its better than i could have ever imagined
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?
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,)
They don’t 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. 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.
Your “weed smoking girlfriend” 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 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
Well that escalated quickly……
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*
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.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omg
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.*
happy 4/20
original url http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Hills/8005/
last modified 2002-10-08 02:22:15
discord is perfectly fine for what it is but next time you get some weird ass error on one of your electronic devices and you Google it and the exact answer to your problem is found in an 8 year old post in the OT thread of a random ass 4K strategy game forum you never heard of then you’ll begin to understand why it’s such a problem that message boards are dying
NSFW will be tagged as #lemon sorta NSFW is #Lime Weird fet shit/ extreme NSFW is #orange reblog to spread awareness that we’re back on the citrus scale
Let’s get back to basics. Kinda funny we rename things like we’re outlaws that try to cover up there crimes!
why have i never known about orange
Orange was originally like…a PG-13 warning. You would tag orange for fics that stopped at making out. What you’re thinking of is “Grapefruit”. The scale goes as such: Orange (PG-13, basically making out like I said) - Lime (Non-explicit sexual actions, think an M rated fic instead of NC-17) - Lemon (explicit, graphic sex, the NC-17 fics) - Grapefruit (hardcore/weird stuff)
Reblogging for the citrus correction of orange and grapefruit
It is so weird seeing people rediscover the fandom of my youth. I haven’t used the citrus scale since I last lied about being 18.
This makes me feel old.
remember go nuts show nuts whatever
this wasnt a suggestion im talking abt tumblrs old nsfw policy
cosmo wanda i wish that every grown woman whose a belle delphine clone that panders to pedophiles on tiktok and wears sexualized japanese schoolgirl uniforms is blown up by an atomic bomb
reblog to scare staff/apple
mutuals i will not be downloading any alternative platforms to tumblr. u can ask for my home address tho idgaf
almost home
Mike Driver
Jules of Nature

Product Placement
Not today Justin
noise dept.
art blog(derogatory)
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gracie abrams
cherry valley forever
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
𓃗

PR's Tumblrdome
macklin celebrini has autism

Andulka
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
The Stonewall Inn
EXPECTATIONS
Sade Olutola
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