diomdes:

diomdes:

me, as i force a dollar bill into the self-checkout machine: thats right…..good boy……vore president washington

im begging all of you to stop reblogging th is

(via ozi-uwu)

cheriepleasantries:

(via puppygirl-hornyposting)

gauntletqueen:

cuntmunism:

cuntmunism:

you people will reblog anything

voiced it <3

(via nyancrimew)

identifying-cars-in-posts:

haierld:

ottermatopoeia:

When the Arizona Iced Tea hits

Someone add a gif i’m on mobile

1967-1973 Datsun 510

(via metalgearsolidyaoi)

sporesgalaxy:

aimzicr:

writing-prompt-s:

You’re a Warlock. But instead of drawing power from a higher being, people can choose to donate a portion of their magical power to you. In exchange, they can scry on your adventures and can send telepathic messages to you, as well as make requests. It can get annoying, but you make it work.

“Alright, we’re about to head into the dungeon. Daz has gone ahead to check for traps, but we’re pretty confident – hey,  M’stha’venalth the Destroyer, thanks for the three months, really appreciate it – yeah we’re pretty confident we got the, uh, we got the thing in the bag, shouldn’t take more than a few sessions at best. Who needs a long rest, am I right? Oh, just got a Sending from Gleek, ‘are you gonna need Darkvision again’, nah, comrade, torches all the way. You know we gotta keep it real around here. Plus I love the burning pitch smell. Okay, good vibe emojis only, viewers, we’re going in!”

(via punkitt-is-here)

bettalbimarginata:

nat-20s:

Favorite thing about renaissance faires is that they have fuck all to to with the renaissance. This thang is not about historical anything this is about dressing up like a fairy and watching a joust

#a samurai with a flintlock pistol sitting next to a guy dressed as a caveman drinking a styrofoam cup of dr pepper#and it fucks severely

(via dat-soldier)

campyvillain:

campyvillain:

campyvillain:

patrick bateman: *licks a strawberry icecream he got from an icecream truck* hm yummy ice cream

his internal monologue: look at me . eating processed flavoring. There is no strawberry in here. It’s but a pastiche of the real deal. An ice cream with artificial flavoring, a momentary joy. Tested countless times in a lab, masquerading as if it’s authentic, genuine. Me and a strawberry icecream are alike in that sense: gentle on the outside, palatable and unassuming. The only difference is that I don’t come with nutrition facts advising of any warning signs concerned parents will scan over, and by the time I strike, itll be too late

disclaimer i have never seen this movie I just think the soul of this guy possessed me

disclaimer revoked i just watched this movie and this was dead on

(via metalgearsolidyaoi)

play-now-my-lord:

the american midwest. people wake up in their ikea beds and immediately slam into their ford trucks and drive 2 hours through featureless cornfields to pretend-work in an office for a company that functionally does nothing. they dissociate until it’s time to get back home and listen to classic rock or top 40 pop for an hour to wind down. dinner is unseasoned roast chicken and weak cold beer made mostly of rice. then they have missionary for 3 minutes with their hetero spouse and reminisce briefly about high school and pass out. anything that forces a deviation from this life-plan is a federal fucking offense and, in the minds of people who have fully surrendered spiritually to the midwestern mindset, heralds instant violent death. they say bulls are baited into a rage by the color red; if you show a midwesterner any color bright enough, they’ll reach for a gun

himbofisher: