“Why do you take politics so personally.”

What if I told you

that these policies

affect me personally?

hillary clinton told a joke at the al smith dinner tonight. it’s a very simple joke. and these two CNN panelists have completely misunderstood it at every turn. it is making me so god damn angry.

the gist of the joke is “when i look at the statue of liberty, i see all the things that make our country great [blah blah blah.] when donald trump looks at the statue of liberty he sees a 4. maybe a 5 if she loses the torch and the tablet.”

and this fucking moron is saying that the joke is funny because the statue of liberty looks like the number 4.

which is not what that joke is saying at ALL.

her follow-up to this joke was:

“you know what i think a good number for a woman is? forty five”

(because if she’s elected, she will be the forty fifth president)

and this dipshit on CNN is chuckling like “yeah, i think forty five is a good age too”

When sexists don’t understand they’re the butt of the joke because they’ve never heard a joke at their expense imo

The same thing is done with racing horses. Except that they use a goat. [x]

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HELLO FAST CAT I AM YOUR DESIGNATED DOG FRIEND

Opponents would literally attempt to kidnap each other’s goats in an effort to upset the horse and cause them to lose the race. [x]

I have a weird derailing question. Is this the origin of the idiom about getting someone’s goat?

As a matter of fact, it is!

I just learned so much from this one post.

I just double checked and yeah, that really is the origin of that phrase. I love this post so much.

I love this post so much.

Flavored Shimmery Liqueur (Video)

You’re in charge of assigning every child on Earth the monster under their bed. One child in particular has caused every monster assigned to him/her to quit. You decide to assign yourself.

Case: #273402 Status: Disastrous.

I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn’t scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters… I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying! I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte’s bed. Across the room underneath Daniel’s crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster. I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again. “I’m not afraid of you monster!” She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and… She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With. Me. “Move. Over!” Charlotte hisses at me. I do. The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn’t afraid of any of my monsters; she’s afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out. “What the…” I cut Francis’s next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face. “If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity.” I promise to him. As Francis runs from the room he soils himself. I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling.” Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed.

WELL GODAMN, WE HAVE OURSELVES A WINNER

Holy shit I’m gonna cry that’s beautiful.

Every single cursed moment of my tumblr existence has led me here. I am whole. I am complete.

my anxiety has a loophole that if somebody is else is equally or more uncomfortable I develop the sudden ability to Do The Thing

i cant go and ask for more ketchup for myself but if my friend wants more ketchup im out of my seat in a second

stories from school

The Jellybear Incident of 6th Grade

It’s the sixth grade. Somehow, I had come across a catalogue for the store they bought all the school store crap from. You know, the smelly erasers and dumb keychains that they sell for like a buck apiece. So I somehow got this catalogue, and little old entrepreneur me was like “I should buy something from this and sell it at school for an absurdly high price to gain basically pure profit.” As sixth graders do. So I bought two huge tubs full of these keychains called Jellybears. This is what they look like.

So I bought a metric fuckton of these assholes for about 20 cents a piece. I start selling them at school for a buck fifty. Like I said, pure profit. 6th grade me was brilliant. I broke even in like eight seconds of me whippin these bad boys out at school. Saying these are were a hit is an understatement. They were like a home run triple, or some other sports metaphor. People are buying this shit at lunch time, between classes. Shit, one girl even admitted to selling the ones she bought off me around her neighborhood for like five bucks. I was happy to be the middleman, but I digress. The point is, not only did I gain entrepreneurial skills, I also made a pretty penny. However, a month into my brilliant business, I get a call down to the office.

I had never been called to the office before. I was such a goody two-shoes you wouldn’t believe. This was in a school that boasted like two fights per week. The ratio of cops and administrators to students was like 1:3. And there were 1700 people at this school. That’s a whole lot of authority figures for a whole lot of miscreants and ne’er-do-wells. And here I was, reading large pretentious books and wearing polo shirts, with a gigantic backpack and in an advanced math class. I was, and still am, a lame weeny. Just wanted to put that in perspective.

Anyway, I was called down to the office that day. Literally shaking in the huge chair they had for me, facing down the terrifying vice-principal, she pulled out a Jellybear.

It was the DIVA one, if I’m not mistaken. I was then given a good lecture about how I’m not allowed to sell things on campus without explicit permission, yadda yadda, the whole spiel. Except I felt there was something fishy about the whole thing. Maybe it was how she held the Jellybear in her hand, perhaps it was the way she confiscated the rest of them. 

After asking around with the intense gossip network of middle school, I discovered the real reason the administration confiscated the Jellybears.

They had reason to suspect I was filling them with vodka.

They had reason to suspect that I, the tiny, stupid haired, braces-clad sixth grader who played a tuba bigger than she was was the head of a sophisticated alcohol distributing cartel in which I punctured and drained the goop from cute keychains, refilled them with straight vodka with a syringe, sealed them off with no trace, and sold them around school.

I’m not sure if I’m flattered that they assumed me capable of that sort of espionage, or insulted that they thought me dumb enough to sell middle schoolers straight vodka for A BUCK FIFTY. 

really who did they think i was i was in advanced math for petes sake.

This was a wild ride from start to finish.

The Japanese musical of The Little Mermaid handled the whole “swimming on stage” really well~

Can you imagine how hard it must be to sing like that while being swung around the stage on a rigging system? Good for her

As a kid, I thought America seemed ancient and eternal. Now I realize that America is only 238 years old and could collapse at any time just like the Roman Empire.

1) they expensive bruh 2) none of us kno the dif btwn a fucking diamond and some fancy ass glass ur capitalist rock hierarchy has no control over us

3) mostly mined with slave labor

4) we get excited when our date buys us an appetizer, we don’t even comprehend people buying us rocks that would force us into debt for ten years

5) They aren’t actually that rare and the price is artificially inflated. 

Pro tip from a former Jared’s salesperson: You want a sparkly white rock that will look like a diamond to the untrained eye and will literally cost the price of a nice dinner for two? Created white sapphire. They’re lab grown and cost *pennies* to make, so you can get a 1 or 2 carat white sapphire for like… $30-80 probably. You can get one as huge as you like, perfectly clear, perfectly flawless. And no one will ever be able to tell the difference except a professional appraiser. Also, sapphires are the second-hardest gemstone (right after diamonds) so they are very durable! Very unlikely that they’ll chip or crack. Get that bitch set in sterling silver and you are GOOD TO GO. Whole thing should cost you less than $200 unless you get a fancy band with a lot of extra stones. Of course, created sapphires come in every color of the rainbow, so if you want something more exciting than plain white, you TOTALLY CAN. 

Created sapphires and silver: The poor Millennial’s engagement ring. 

THANK YOU EX-JARED’S BASED GOD. 

Truth

I like this version better, it’s more realistic

Artist Illustrates Everyday Life With Her Boyfriend, Shows That Love Is In The Small Things

The dihydrogen monoxide hoax involves calling water by the unfamiliar chemical name “dihydrogen monoxide” (DHMO), and listing some of water’s effects in an alarming manner, such as the fact that it accelerates corrosion and can cause severe burns. The hoax often calls for dihydrogen monoxide to be regulated, labeled as hazardous, or banned. It illustrates how the lack of scientific literacy and an exaggerated analysis can lead to misplaced fears.

The hoax gained renewed popularity in the late 1990s when a 14-year-old student collected anti-DHMO petitions for a science project about gullibility. The story has since been used in science education to encourage critical thinking and avoid the appeal to nature.

Source: [x]

Click HERE for more facts

What I think of everytime I watch that episode.