me: 

you: 

bye sweaty :)

I’m with jorober93538 on this. I’m in English Literature classes as my minor and the way you speak is not proper English. And the funny thing is that it’s my second language (Gaelic Irish being my first), and I still speak better than you. Plus if you have 3 PhDs then you will be intelligent in the medical field. If you’re talking about having a degree in English, then what you mean is a doctorate which is the highest degree you can get in anything. Plus, three doctorates in three different fields would make more sense than what you had said. Also, it is impossible to have nine abdominal muscles. Because abdominal muscles come in horizontal pairs of two, you would look improper shirtless. Also, that would mean you workout constantly (If it were possible to have a nine pack), which would mean that you would have no time to go to work (assuming you have a job if you have “3 PhDs in English”) and spend time with your girlfriend. So, overall, either one or all of your things are incorrect.

u come in to my HOME where i WORK OUT and CRY and tell me that my abs are impossible?? sweaty i raised them myself since i was an umbilical cord. im 11 so shut the UP binch!!!

One of the most cringe inducing wannabe troll posts I’ve ever seen on the Internet, let alone tumblr. I had no idea thebootdiaries was this pathetic - unsubscribing

1) this post has 83,659 notes 2) it’s called unfollowing binch :) go plague youtube with your presence 3) don’t let the door hit you on your way out

You want to know why there’s so many notes? Because people are laughing at you! You have no grasp of the English language or biological knowledge of any kind!

i hate to break it to you but that’s definitely not why there are so many notes :) i made a joke :) and now it’s getting more notes because of ur superiority complex :) so now you’re the joke :) this has been a psa :) sweaty :)

Oh, honey.

Stop, you’ll embarrass yourself even more.

im feeling secondhand embarrassment thats for sure 

I am fucking dying. The amount of obliviousness is astounding.

Timelost

I feel like I have thirty minutes to sum up everything I know. It’s not that the plane is going to crash or the world will meet its end, or even that everything or anything at all will change. It won’t. Things will go on just as they always do, this deadline is arbitrary and frustrating, because it’s self-created and imposed. It’s me trying to make up for lost time, which as we know, is a commodity which only goes one way. You cannot have extra of it. You can only not have enough.

I do not recount these lost times as a failure, but I worry that I must document them, write them in a ledger to show how far into the red I am. What has come out of this narrow, driving line. I could start with all the way at the beginning of the year, but with all the empty minutes and hours in the way, I doubt I can remember that far. I shall start wherever I find closest and journey onward. The first product of my empty hours was a letter. I could have written and delivered it, wishing a happy holiday (whichever one was nearest at the time) or scrounging up aspects of my life to dress up, emblazon and be proud of, but the curtain of fallen seconds prevented me from seeing those noteworthy accomplishments and I swore only to write when I had something worth saying. The letter was never written, and the recipient is now too late to receive it. That time is gone.

I could also note the times lost to ennui and drink, for they were many and stretched on, creating only double their length with how little I enjoyed them. Misery passes slowly, as does the time when you have an itch that begs to be nursed, the agony of every moment until satisfaction. THe itch went away without being scratched, my malaise faded without being cured, the spirits evaporated from my pores without my respite. As is the way, the itch returns.

Financing was always a bother, but never so much as current when accounts were overdrawn or underpaid, and I’d no recollection of it. THe sheer day escaped me, and the debts knocked down my (often uninhabited) hall, but it was forgetfulness that caused the pain so. I could often find the funds, but my distraction was what forced the collectors’ ire. I was irreliable. It has become my foremost trait.

In a final thought, I dare the second most tempestuous in its loss was when I failed to smile. Long we held eyes, on an unseasonably beautiful afternoon when I was unseasonably present outdoors. I had grown apprehensive of my grim pallor, it belied a truth I was not yet to face, that I was wasting away. My shoulders shook with a cloak of ghosted seconds and my ankles dragged, shackled by the weight of dead days. Still I looked up, through the paths of beetles and bees in a garden so sweet that the air could become nectar, and there I saw you. If I looked poorly, you looked conversely wonderful. My paleness was that of cobwebs and bleached shadow, yours was the fullness of milk. There was such life in you, and still is I have little doubt. Perhaps you saw the gravestones in my lashes, the wind-whipped tremor in my voice. You stared on, as did I, as did we, locked in our few paltry instants together. And I did not smile.

It is merely the end of a year, another time to raise a glass to all that is gone and shall come anew, but I raise a pen in my ledger of failures that nothing will change, no stroke of midnight can twist my direction, no spirit may veer my soul. I am shouldering vast forces and lost smiles. THe new day ahead is built on the ruined structures of those from before. And I stumble with them.

social injustice is a real thing. it’s not made up. people who say it’s it’s made up are full of shit. It’s not hard to find.

but here’s the thing, you don’t have to be intellectually dishonest to explain social injustice or affect change.

For example, if you’re still saying “Women make 77 cents to a man’s dollar in America!” you’re being intellectually dishonest (or ignorant). This is a misleading and ultimately incorrect statistic.

However, if you’re saying “wage gaps don’t exist and women have the exact same opportunities for employment and advancement as men” you’re also being dishonest (or ignorant).

Also, the idea of ‘us vs them” is not helpful to your cause. My personal theory is that some people don’t really give a shit about making the world better; in fact I’d imagine they’d like the problems to remain so they could continue to have someone to yell at. 

For example, if someone makes a movie that you think is offensive, your response should not be to paint the director of a movie as a bigot and try to ruin his career. That doesn’t fix any problem. that’s just vindictive and short sighted. The director of the movie is not your enemy. People who make art sometimes make stuff that is brash or offensive or rude, either to intentionally shake things up or because they want to express a dark side of their imagination. Everybody has a dark side of their imagination, even you. Artists of all sorts use art to express those things in a constructive way.

It’s also possible that the director is actually a bigot and wanted to spread bigoted propaganda. But this is probably the least likely of these options.

Social injustice exists because of social conditioning and social norms that have developed over years of inequality. It is not because there is a secret society of evil white men plotting and scheming to ruin everyone’s lives. Our job to educate and transform the way society thinks. Not to go Batman and destroy all the evil people 1 by 1 until racism doesn’t exist anymore.

Finally, it’s important to understand that we are all different and we will not all agree on how everything should work. The moment you think you have got everything figured out is the moment you no longer should be taken seriously. If you are unwilling to have your views challenged by thoughtful debate, you’re not helping anything. Discussion leads to solutions. Yelling at people doesn’t.

He has my thoughts exact. 

Mark Tupas (via thearkatek)

the look on his fucking face

Baby Fox and Old Crow

http://www.dafont.com/baby-fox.font

The Old Crow looked at the Baby Fox from the safety of the tree. Its ears were too big for its head, and its eyes saw everything. “Hello little thing,” the Old Crow cawwed down. “I’m not little,” it replied, “I’m a fox. You just think I’m little because I made you think so.” It was precocious, shaking its tail and bouncing with every word. “You are little for a fox. Little can also mean young.” “I’m not young, I’m much older than my brothers and sisters who aren’t born yet.” Another little bounce, another ruffle. The ears perked and turned around at every sound, listening to everything it could.

Foxes were tricksters, with mischief always on their minds. The Old Crow had never seen a baby one, never allowed close enough to the nest to see the kits. This one was ruddy like clay and bright as a sunbeam. It spoke in circles already, but without the wisdom or motive of the older foxes. Baby Fox fidgeted, “Are you a crow?” “I am an Old Crow.” “I am older than you,” the fox said, yipping with joy. “Why is that?” the Old Crow asked patiently. “I have been a fox longer than you have ever been a fox. I am many moons older than you in fox-time.” Foxes always find a way to be right. The bird said nothing, raising its head to look in the distance. “Don’t you think I’m older than you?” “You are a fox, whatever you say must be true.” “Yes!” and the Baby Fox ran in circles after its tail, “We are hunters of the truth! I caught five truths in a row this morning!” “What did you do with them, Baby Fox?” “I let them go, except one, where I kept it and gave it back to you just now.” Its little eyes blinked fast in the dust it had whipped up.

“What do you know of crows?” asked the elder bird, alone on the tree high out of the way. “You can fly. And you are black and envious of our colors.” “Why are we envious of your red and white hair?” “Because you pick at our tails to take it away,” the Baby Fox laughed, “and if you were red like the ground, you could live down here with us. Because you are black, you must live in the trees away from our kind.” “Foxes can also be in trees,” the Old Crow mused. “Only when the ground grows dull, and the truths have run to high places.” It sniffed a cactus on one side, a stick of scrub on the other. “I know when the world was made.” “Baby Fox, please tell me. When was the world made?” “When I was born, because this is all my world, a place for me to explore and jump and yip at the sun.” It yipped quickly for good measure, and focused its attention on the bird in the tree again. “You should come down here,” the Baby Fox said, “to see how I see things, so you can be right too.” But the Old Crow was old because it did not fall for tricks. “I like where I am sitting, so that I may see all at once.” “That is silly,” the Baby Fox wrinkled its nose, “if the world was meant to be seen from far away, I would have been born with wings so I could see it. The only way to see the world is up close.” “I do sometimes come down to the ground,” the bird admitted, “when I am hungry.” “What do you eat?” the kit asked, sniffing the air for signs of delicious things. “Sometimes berries or seeds, sometimes small insects or big ones if I am lucky.” “That is silly,” the Baby Fox said again, “seeds are not for eating. They are for making new grasses and trees.” “Sometimes they can also make Old Crows. You might want to try one some day, little Fox.” “Foxes do not eat seeds,” it said from its haunches, proudly. “Do you know what foxes eat?” “I do,” said the Old Crow carefully. “What is it?” the Baby Fox said, ears twitching. “Not crows,” the Old Crow said as it took flight, out of the reach of an adult fox that had been creeping too close to the tree.

“Farewell, Baby Fox,” it said from the sky, casting a twin of itself across the clay ground, “You are an older fox than I, but I am an older trickster than you.”

Always reblog nika. 

My romantic life might not be that great right now, but I have amazing friends. Like really good friends. You guys are awesome I’m gonna shout you guys out. I appreciate you all.

Yes, but which #Sam ?

HA! GOT YOU!

Right, because all liberals everywhere have always and will always support Hillary Clinton.

!!!!!!!!!!! ATTENTION !!!!!!!!!!!

IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY HEARD YOU NEED TO READ THIS NOW

Firefighter Tells 911 Caller To ‘Deal With It Yourself’& Hangs Up, Victim Dies

An investigation is underway after a New Mexico firefighter dismissively hung up on a caller reporting a shooting that led to the death of a local teenager.

Firefighter Matthew Sanchez was on dispatch duty last month when he got a call about the shooting of Albuquerque high schooler Jaydon Chavez-Silver, 17. The teen was at a house with around 10 other people when someone shot at the house five times, striking and eventually killing Chavez-Silver.

In audio first obtained by KRQE last Monday (Warning: Very Angering), a 911 caller, clearly distraught, can be heard saying she is trying to give the victim CPR.

Sanchez asks if the boy is breathing. The caller says “barely,” and can be heard encouraging Chavez-Silver to “stay with me.”

A spokeswoman for the Albuquerque Fire Department told HuffPost that the department will not be commenting until it concludes its investigation of the incident. It is unclear when that will be. In the meantime, Sanchez has been placed on administrative desk duty, the spokeswoman said.

Albuquerque Fire Chief David Downe told KRQE that the investigation was initiated once the department learned of the “alleged misconduct.”

Alleged….we have a video recording, his job address and his name but it’s still “alleged”

The family is beyond themselves, and they say in the meantime, they’re trying to focus on catching the person who initially shot him.

A reward of up to $4,000 is being offered to anyone with information on Chavez-Silver’s killer, according to a Facebook remembrance page for the teen. Anyone with information is urged to call 505-242-COPS.

If you want to help These are the numbers to the two Albuquerque Fire stations, Call and Get his ass Fired:

(505) 848-1312 or (505) 291-6242

Source / Audio

#StayWoke #JusticeForJaydonChavezSilver

WHAT THE ABSOLUTE HOLY FUCK?!?! “Alleged”??? “Deal with it yourself”????

I AM SO TIRED!!

What the FUCK

I am so fucking disgusted.

What even the sweet fuck.

Friendly reminder that if there is no conviction they are legally obligated to say ‘alleged’ or they can be sued for libel. 

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1qagVz2dzk)

“Transracial is Not a Thing” by the1janitor

Many people asked me to cover this, although I somewhat took a different angle than most things I’ve seen and read. I’m not sure if I explained myself as thoroughly as I wanted, but hopefully you can get something out of it.

You actually convinced me. Well done, sir. 

How Straight Are The Signs

Aries: flaming Taurus: what is heterosexuality Gemini: sassy af but the world may never know Cancer: straight as a circle Leo: u a fruit cake in a rainbow Virgo: i love everyone for who they are Libra: literally -500% straight Scorpio: all the homo Sagittarius: *says no homo* *means v much homo* Capricorn: gay x 1000 Aquarius: double rainbow Pisces: likes boys, girls, and everyone in between

As a Sagittarius, this is the first signs post that applies to me.

Show me the terror, show me the fear. Show me with your fingers what you hear.

Meatball, Meatball

Spaghetti underneath

Ravioli, Ravioli,

Great Barrier Reef