probablyonfire:

delushous:

so I was cleaning my room and noticed something familiar

I nominate this post for some kind of award

chharlieday:

okay but are we just not going to talk about the pizza delivery guy because he deserves the ‘i am delivering pizza to celebrities at the oscars and am not crying’ award which i personally would not have won

image

rachaeldowd:

emily-mimi:

vaginapoke:

have-perspective:


“Leo was so tired. He has his head on my stomach and asked for a sandwich. The assistant asked, ‘What do you want on it?’ and Leo said, ‘Oh, Kate will tell you.’ And Leo just kind of fell asleep. And I did know exactly what he wanted, this cheese and no tomato and no pickle. I absolutely knew. And I thought, ‘God, that’s really weird that I know this person so well.’ It was brilliant.”

WHY AREN’T THEY MARRIED?!?1

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

He walked her down the aisle last year at her wedding

I hate my life. They are perfect.

rachaeldowd:

emily-mimi:

vaginapoke:

have-perspective:

“Leo was so tired. He has his head on my stomach and asked for a sandwich. The assistant asked, ‘What do you want on it?’ and Leo said, ‘Oh, Kate will tell you.’ And Leo just kind of fell asleep. And I did know exactly what he wanted, this cheese and no tomato and no pickle. I absolutely knew. And I thought, ‘God, that’s really weird that I know this person so well.’ It was brilliant.”

WHY AREN’T THEY MARRIED?!?1

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

He walked her down the aisle last year at her wedding

I hate my life. They are perfect.

humorous-blog:

sarrzuu:

jacquesattack:

You don’t fuck with the tray master

This guy is on a whole new level of Food Server. 

humorous-blog:

sarrzuu:

jacquesattack:

You don’t fuck with the tray master

This guy is on a whole new level of Food Server. 

rasdivine:

yannickbrouwer:

This little company from Kenya makes toys from slippers that wash up on the beach. Pictures by Ben Curtis

Dope

lokiwtf:

colorfulcheshire:

I heard you liked kittens on dashboards so I reblogged a kitten on a dashboard so you can enjoy a kitten on a dashboard on your dashboard.

I actually … forgot there was a different kind of dashboard than the online kind.

lokiwtf:

colorfulcheshire:

I heard you liked kittens on dashboards so I reblogged a kitten on a dashboard so you can enjoy a kitten on a dashboard on your dashboard.

I actually … forgot there was a different kind of dashboard than the online kind.

teamshercock:

heidandseeking:

HE IS CRYING ABOUT LUPITA WINNING SHUT UP NOTHING MATTERS ANYMORE

aREE YOU FUCKING OHMYGOD THAT IS THE CUUUUTEST I cANNOT

humorous-blog:

cyberwoadie:

THIS IS THE BEST POST I EVER SEEN LMAOO

ridiculous

d0rk:

descepter:

Sir, do you know why we pulled you over?

the dude who kicked in the windshield, also backflipped off the hood of the car. you know he’s waited his entire career to bust out those moves.

d0rk:

descepter:

Sir, do you know why we pulled you over?

the dude who kicked in the windshield, also backflipped off the hood of the car. you know he’s waited his entire career to bust out those moves.

crossbelladonna:

mldmnnrdrprtr:

crazylipgloss:

thebatmanchild:

athagazagoraphobic:

invisicanada:

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.

Reblogging for the comment

How old are you? 
“ten”
How long have you been ten?
“…”

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN

Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path. 
“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty new that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tale.
He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”
Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”

OH MY LORD HELP

crossbelladonna:

mldmnnrdrprtr:

crazylipgloss:

thebatmanchild:

athagazagoraphobic:

invisicanada:

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.

Reblogging for the comment

How old are you? 

“ten”

How long have you been ten?

“…”

HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN

Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.

“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”

The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path. 

“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.

“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.

Misty new that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.

Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.

“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.

“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.

Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.

“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.

Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tale.

He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”

Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.

Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”

OH MY LORD HELP