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@youragoddamcunt-blog
SO THIS GUY IN MY ENGLISH IS DOING A PROJECT FOR BIO WHERE HE GETS A DUCKLING TO IMPRINT ON HIM SO HE JUST CARRIES IT AROUND WITH HIM TO ALL OF HIS CLASSES AND I SWEAR THIS DUCK IS THE MOST WELL BEHAVED FUCKING POULTRY IVE EVER SEEN IT JUST SITS ON HIS DESK QUIETLY AND SOMETIMES HE PUTS IT IN HIS POCKET AND IT JUST SLEEPS LIKE WOW YOU GO DUCKY
Okay so I sped up The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy and help it’s really good
thIS IS GONNA GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK
holy shit
IM SO PUMPED UP RIGHT NOW IM GONNA KILL A GUY
FUCKING AWESOME
又把舊東西拿出來曬(爆笑
oh my heart this is too cute
buing-iton-oppa:
i feel like other students wanted to do this to me in school omg
This post has been featured on a 1000notes.com blog.
how do i stop looking like im in third grade
It’s amazing how much can change in ten years. One minute you are eleven years old, most liked kid in Mr. Simmons fourth grade class at P.S. 118. You help save the last remaining tree in your neighborhood from being destroyed. You clean up a vacant lot so you and your friends don’t have to play baseball in the streets. You get stuck downtown with your best friend dressed like fruits. You help the strange kid in your neighborhood leave his stoop. You help the crazy ice cream man realize he can do whatever he wants. You meet your favorite baseball player Mickey Kaline. Your only real worries are avoiding the school bully and losing your favorite blue hat. Next minute, you are engaged to a girl who used to call you football head just to tease and make fun of you. The Sunset Arms Boarding House emptied quickly after Elementary School. The Kokoshkas, that is Suzie and Oskar, they divorced and went their separate ways about the time I was in 6th grade. Suzie went on to be a teacher, Oscar ended up becoming the owner of a moderately popular website that sells all sorts of gags and gifts. Last you hear of him, he still does his work lazily, just like he did when he lived a few doors down from you. Ernie Potts ended up severely injured on a worksite and became paralyzed from the waist down. After winning a huge lawsuit against the demolition company he worked for, he was able to afford his own house somewhere on a lake. After I was able to find his daughter on Christmas that year, Mr. Hyunh helped to put her through school and get a college degree. Apparently, he had been saving all of his earnings for something, but he didn’t know what to spend it on. After she finished her degree, the both traveled back to Vietnam to visit their homeland before returning and opening a business. Grandma died when I was 15. Grandpa was devastated at his loss, and he wasn’t really the same afterwards without her. She was a big part of his life, as well as mine. He was the last remaining border in the house, and told me time after time that I will inherit the Boarding House when he passed away. I wasn’t sure what I would do with the old place when he passed, but I don’t know if we would have enough boarders to keep it open. He lived a very long and fulfilling life. The day he died was gravely hard for me. I tried to give a memorial speech for him at his Wake, but found myself unable to do so. This happened earlier this year. The faces around town sure have changed as well. Harvey the Postman is now the Head Manager at the Post Office for our district. We don’t see him on routes anymore; instead we have a grumpy old man who doesn’t like to mingle whose name is unknown to me. Mr. Simmons is no longer a teacher; instead he is the school counselor, and he makes it his mission to help students out of any crisis they may find themselves in. Mrs. Vitello, the flower shop owner, passed away earlier last year after having a stroke. Gerald was accepted into a major university somewhere out of state. We keep in contact, but only the occasional text message or weekly email update or facebook status change. Sid and Stinky were contracted into doing a show for a local channel, which aired for about 3 seasons. Everyone loved it, and now they are producing more television shows rather than star in them. Eugene ended up winning the lottery, ironically enough. The unluckiest kid in school became one of the luckiest people alive. He is living off his winnings happily with a girl he met at community college. Most of the other kids from class, Brainy, Phoebe, Curly, Lorenzo, Lila etc, well, they either moved away or lost contact with me. I still see Herald about town every now and then, seems he is getting ready to buy Mr. Green’s Meat Shop and continue work as a butcher. Then there is Helga. Well, her story is pretty sad. Helga and I started our relationship over in high school. In about the 6th grade, out of nowhere she stopped with the relentless name calling and bullying. I noticed a drastic change in her about this time, and did not know what had caused it. It wasn’t a gradual change either, but something had completely shifted seemingly overnight. Shortly after, her father was convicted for some sort of felony involving his failing company Big Bob’s Beepers and sent to prison for many years. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but Helga’s mother and her moved to a different part of town and she was pulled from the PS 118 school system. High school came and in 9th Grade we were placed in the same Public School System again. She was back in our district and was different…. extremely different. Her once pretentious attitude was diminished. Her boisterous voice was weak. She was sad, melancholy if you will, and seemed depressed all the time. Her appearance, vastly different from what I remembered, was also uncharacteristically askew. She no longer kept her hair up, but rather down and untidy. She dressed in clothes that seemed too big and dirty. Her general appearance was that of extreme poverty. The only time she seemed to show even the slightest sign of life was when I was present. When she would see me, her face would light up for a split second, and I saw the Helga I remembered from elementary school. Something inside me did a flip-flop when this would happen. I realized that I had missed her during the years she had been absent. My senior year I asked Helga to Prom. She said yes. That night is still very vivid to me. When I picked her up, I was amazed at the state of her house. The place was filled with garbage, no tidiness as I had perceived Helga from her younger days to live in. The whole atmosphere of her home was that of uncaring and gave a general feeling of disgust. Her mother did not seem to notice or care that she was leaving, or that I was even taking her to a Prom. I guess a normal mother would be radiant, taking pictures, absorbing the feeling. Even though her house was a terrible mess, when she came down that staircase, she looked stunning, as if she had sold everything to rent her beautiful dress. Donned in a tight fitting blue smock, glittering with shines of light blue, her image would be engrained to me until even this day. The night was filled with dancing, good times, and ended with a kiss I will not ever forget. Something came back to life in her that night. She did not want to go home, so I didn’t take her back. That evening, we sat up on the roof of the Boarding House and watched as the sun rose over the city. After High School graduation was about the time she moved into the Boarding House with me. Grandpa had his own room, and I had my attic room still, slightly modified from my Elementary Days of course. After seeing the vast change in her persona from Prom, I knew something about me completed her. When she moved in with me, she brought very little, but did not want to retrieve anything else. A small car full was all that she had ready, mostly clothes and other small knickknacks. Helping her move out of her mother’s apartment was depressing. All her mother did was sit on the couch, smoke cigarettes, and stare emptily at the television set. Few short words were exchanged, and Helga informed her mother that she was moving out, from which she did not receive an encouraging response. After she was settled into my room, she told me her whole story. She started in fourth grade, how she had obsessed over me, loved me from the day she met me. She kept my picture in a gold frame on her at all times, hidden from anyone else to see. She sometimes made small idols of me. She wanted me more than anything, but couldn’t find the strength to tell me, for fear of rejection. She instead turned that desire into teasing, the only route she knew to utilize. Her home life was terrible. She lived in a constant shadow of her older sister Olga, the perfect daughter in her mother and father’s eyes. She told me how she was constantly reminded of her older sister’s success and how she was never given any credit for any good thing she ever accomplished, simply because it wasn’t good enough. Her mother was ditzy, and her father was controlling. When she turned 14, the sexual abuse from her father began. Big Bob Pataki was a deviant, and hated the fact that he had a second unwanted daughter. After Helga was born, he forced his wife to have a female vasectomy of sorts, called a tubal ligation, so that another unwanted child was impossible. When his wife told him that she did not crave sex anymore, he decided instead to turn on Helga. She told me how she always knew he hated her existence, but was stern in the fact that it was just a tedious idea concocted out of jealousy for her sister, but when he started the abuse on her, it became clear that she was right in her horrible ideals. She said it lasted for two years, up until he was charged with Fraud and Avoidance of Federal Funds from the IRS. She recounted about how he would do terrible things to her at night, when her mother was asleep. If she fought, she would be punished physically. He was sentenced to 30-50 years. After her father was sentenced and placed in prison, she tried to consult her mother about the things that had been happening. She never did before her father went to prison, simply out of fear of what would happen. Sadly, even though she tried to find comfort in her mother, she was only met with a heartbreaking disappointment. At her telling me this, I could see her eyes well up with tears. Her mother did not care about the happenings with her father, and she even speculated that it was her mother who recommended her father abuse her. She said that she felt her mother had also grown to hate her daughter. She told me that those two years were suppressed in darkness. She stated that she couldn’t remember the details if she wanted to. All she knew was that she went from being perfectly happy to wishing for death each and every night. The tears became too much, and started to roll. Then she started to cry. She lay sobbing in my arms for a good 3 hours. All those years of wondering what was missing, why Helga had left, where she was and if she was doing okay, I discovered this horrible truth. She sobbed and sobbed, crying out years of pain and anguish. All this time she had nobody to console, nobody to talk to, and nobody to be a friend when she needed it most. All the time I could only hold her head on my shoulder, stroke her arm and tell her everything was okay. I told her that things were going to get better. She stopped for a second, whispered to me “I know. I have you now. Everything I have ever wanted is right here, in you.” She then lay her head back down on my arm, and promptly fell asleep. It’s amazing how much can change in ten years. As she slept peacefully on my arm, I wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. I kissed her on the forehead and let her rest. I began to close my eyes in the emotional strain of things. I heard too much, I felt too terrible. I just wanted to get some sleep. Thoughts and feelings of radical natures plagued me. I was devastated, angry, torn, completely paining for my dear Helga. The horrors she had endured are too much for any one person to have to deal with in one lifetime. I decided it would be best to sleep. Just before I drifted into unconsciousness, I heard her whisper “I love you so much…football head.” Helga is better now. Any and all sorrow she had that night was cried away, and drifted into nothingness. She is happy, happier than she has ever been in her entire life. Always I knew there was something odd about her. She always seemed too keen to go out of her way to antagonize me. Looking back at it now, I realize it was her way of asking for some attention. I love her equally to what she loves me, more than anything I have ever loved in my entire life. I asked her to marry me about 4 months ago, and she said yes. In due time, we will be newlyweds. Thinking back, it’s humorous to me now. I used to dread sometimes going to class for fear of what mean things Helga would do to me. Now, I can’t stand to be away from her. I lay here now thinking about life before she found her way back to me, and can’t remember anything. Is this a testament to the idea that a man isn’t truly complete until he finds his soul mate? Has Helga always been the person I was destined to be with? I like to think that she is. It’s amazing how much can change in ten years.
Holy shit, my childhood hurts…
I’m actually tearing up oh my god
I’m not even gonna blank out these peoples names because I’m so discussed by their comments.
’ if you cut yourself your a freak and don’t deserve to live.’
This needs so many more notes.
I will never not reblog this
I think she’s beautiful
i’ve reblogged her once before and now i feel the need to do it again because the true and ugly face of humans have yet again showed itself to be every bit of a fucking cunt it’s always been. this girl is a survivor and a fighter and every single one of those pathetic so-called human beings that believe that they’re so good and all-knowing is the kind of people who kill survivors and fighters. depression, self-hatred and apathy isn’t a choice. self-harm isn’t something you choose. it’s the little voice in your head that makes you do it. and that voice is the extract of the hundreds and yet hundreds of voices and words that you’ve heard in your life, speaking your every flaw to your face. i don’t wish that on anyone but those whom haven’t experienced it just cannot understand for two shits and that makes it even harder to cope.
I seriously don’t get people some times, these comments make me sick… like she obviously has gone through issues, she’s a fighter but most importantly she’s ALIVE and yet people are trying to tear her down. I hope she’s better and hasn’t seen those cruel comments. And if you have, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL and I LOVE YOU. But honestly this shit is just uncalled for and not to mention all these people are completely ignorant cunts.
this actually made me start crying.
These people are being awful. She is struggling, but she’s still a beautiful young lady. It takes confidence to be able to go out and wear a bathing suit if you are a self harmer. I have respect for her, God loves her, and I do not think it is fair for these people to insult her. Yes, she does need help but not for the sake of these people above. She needs help realizing that she is beautiful, she needs help to overcome her struggles, she needs help realizing that she is a great person and she needs help realizing that she does not deserve to hurt like this. For the comment “Why should we have respect for a self-harmer”, it’s because it is common human decency. Would you respect your Mother, Father, Sister, Brother, Best Friend, Cousin, or any other loved one any less because they self harmed? If you said yes, you are quite a sad person who needs a reality check. Also, who cares if other people have it worse than she does? Yes, that is true but she is not other people. She is her own individual, her own person and her emotions are not any less valid because there are less fortunate people out there. “If you cut yourself, you’re a freak and dont deserve to live.” Again, who are you to dictate who deserves to live and who doesn’t? This girl deserves life and she deserves happiness, and I truly hope one day she finds it and realizes that she is a strong, amazing woman.
apparently i don’t
omg what does that even say?
????
Okay so money or something PS or please don’t believe there is a generation d/c? between them and their teen.
What is d/c?
In gaming dc is short for disconnect. “mnE Ps don’t believe there is a generation disconnection between them and their teen”?
OH!! Many parents(meanie parents?) don’t believe there is a generation disconnection between them and their teen.
jfkdljgklsgkjlfdjgkfldgjkfld
WE DID IT!
good work tumblr
10knotes:
M&Ms Droplets
now that’s what photography should be about… not a black and white picture of someone’s shoes
The top picture is full of M&M’s. They’re bule, red, orange, green, yellow, and brown.
But in the bottom picture we clearly see there’s white, pink, and even purple candies in the bowl.
The bottom picture is of gumballs! This concludes that the bottom picture is not taken with that camera at all. I’d even go as far to say that it was edited in photoshop with a filter!
Yes the above image and the below image are not the same photograph being taken. This is rather obvious.
BUT Mr. Wright there is one thing you overlooked. Examine the droplets on the bottom image. None of them are from the same angle. This is a natural occurance when looking through water droplets.
Is it not possible that the photographer took the second image first?
Would it not be more probable that when asked HOW it was taken he/she took the above image of their setup Using M&Ms, something much more common in a household rather than many gumballs, something they may have just bought for the original photo?
So to claim it was not taken with the same camera is indeed a long shot Mr. Wright.
Thank you for your time.
Really Edgeworth, is that you’re argument.
Aren’t you overlooking the fact that there are no pink M&Ms. This proves undeniably that these are not, in fact M&Ms, but some other kind of candy.
And one other thing, I find it highly improbable that not one piece of candy is facing so the M logo is on the candy.
So in conclusion, there is no way these are possibly M&Ms.
hey mister I think you’re confuuuuuuused. Edgeworth agreed that they weren’t M&M’s. He was just refuting that there is a possibility there wasnt any photoshop used and that the above image was only depicting the method used in the bottom image.
I think someone might be getting a little senile hehehe
Everyone seems to be walking around the accusations by examining whether they are or aren’t M&Ms. That is not what’s important. What we should be looking at is instead, the so-called droplets, compared to the background image.
The angles within the droplets do not realistically coincide with one another! As well, I don’t spend much time staring at drops of water, but I can surely say I’ve never seen such clarity in any water droplet. Also, as in the former picture, there is an obvious fogging on the glass, surely caused by whichever process was used to spray the water. Where is the fog?
On top of all that, the drops are amazingly tiny compared to the anonymous-candy. One could argue the sheet is further away than in the ‘example’ pic, but the blurring of the candies definitely objects to that. We could also try to assume that the spray method used in the ‘original’ photo caused much tinier water spots, but are we to believe that the photographer was so careless that they couldn’t recreate the correct droplet size in the ‘example’? Surely, they should have been able to cause at least a closer resemblance.
Sure seems like they went out of their way to showcase the methodology of how the photograph was taken, yet neglected to go far enough to ensure it could be a like-comparison?
Rather unlikely!
Actually, Mr. Godot!!
Well, according to the properties of light and the way it’s refracted…
If you mirror it the right way, they line up just fine!
Hold on there, pups. You’re all going in completely different directions. Shih-na, if you will?
Lang Zi says: “The truth lies not at the exit, but rather, shines outside the maze itself.”
You need to see past the boundaries given to you in order to figure out the actual purpose and, as much as I’d hate to admit, both Mr. Prosecutor and the crow-girl have some pretty tame ground under their feet with those assumptions.
As said before, it’s logical to assume the photographer is merely depicting the method used in order to get the results shown in the second photo—and it can be just that.
But what if it’s something else entirely?
We’re all wolves who’ve been swindled by the coyote that has stolen our kill. How do we know if the photographer just isn’t using some clever ploy to get us all confused? He could have taken these pictures separately and simply put them together with getting us riled up in mind.
I think we all need to reconsider our options, here.
Casually brings it back.
amazing use of gifs, ladies and gentleman
nearly 2 years on tumblr since I’ve seen this and it is still the best post
I think it’s time we approach this from a different angle.
I tried a similar setup with a few things I had around my house. (For the record, these are chocolate covered sunflower seeds.) Here is how it looked from the side:
And here is how it appeared from above (sadly, only with the level of quality allowed by a camera phone):
I believe this makes it fairly clear that with the setup shown in the first of the original pictures and a high quality camera, a picture such as the one in question could easily be created. However, since it has been proven that the two pictures can’t be of exactly the same thing due to the two containing different colors of candy, we can only call this myth “plausible” assuming the setup picture is only intended to demonstrate the method.
“Digital art isn’t real art. You have no real talent and you’re lazy. It’s not like painting or using traditional media. You didn’t work a sweat. The program makes it for you!”
Hahaha….haha. *Although, I’m sure some people don’t actually reach 150 layers. That’s just me aahaha. /insecure /back ups of back ups of back ups
I saw this comic going around and thought that there should be an art version of it.
I NEED THIS ON MY MAIN BLOG EXCUSE U I’M FACED WITH THIS EVERY SINGLE DAY AT SCHOOL ughhhh
basically every time someone says digital art is “easy” or “not real” or some shit
i just
VERY VERY IMPORTANT POST
Same could be said about electronic music.
check the comic this one is based off of,they got you covered.
honestly at first, i thought digital art was easy
now i’m experiencing the pain
i want to cry
He tried so hard. And got so far. But in the end. It doesn’t even matter.
help I’ve fallen and am perfectly capable of getting up but refuse to
Asuna is simply lovely ❤
