i'm sorry but this is the only submission to this trend that i'll consider giving any thought to

i say this with 100% sincerity: if you want to know who monica lewkinsky is, she's the person who deserves to be back in the white house more than any person alive and she should get full rights to execute any 1990s comedians of her choice by firing squad. she deserves to be on the $20 bill and have her own monument on the national mall, but instead she's happy with reclaiming the narrative. she should have been america's people's princess instead of diana. we don't deserve her.

Okay, so I did google her and the scandal you mentioned in the tags, and I have two things to say

1. Holy shit

2. Yeah, I think she has the best one for the trend

you can beat up a skeleton and steal their arms to use as a weapon in the new zelda

you can do it in real life if you’re not a fucking coward

Zelda Heritage Post

Slutshaming women is not ok Slutshaming Alexander Hamilton is totally ok Tumblr logic

he cheated. on his wife.

he’s also been dead for several hundred years this is the funniest post ive ever read in my life

fave things about this post:

date of origin: 2014

The Hamilton discourse extends beyond time.

"i changed your name and all defining clues" we all know who it is taylor dont worry

Hey to all the Taylor haters out there: if someone illegally recorded your phone call, edited it, posted it everywhere, called you a snake, drove you into thinking no one loved you or cared about you, probably thoughts of suicide, and then hiding for years, you, the victim here, how would you feel? I’d feel like shit. So here’s something, “thanK you aIMee” is completely valid. Victims of any sort of bullying carry that trauma for years, so if your mad Taylor’s made another song about the Kim K situation nearly 10 years later, go fuck yourself, because obviously you were the one bullying someone so you don’t know how it feels. AND obviously you never actually listened to the song and just saw that she wrote a “diss track”. If you actually listened to the song, Taylor is thanking Kim for all the courage it took to create Reputation, build herself back up, stopping the urge to try to please people, and for the amazing fans that have stuck by her side through thick and thin.

I Look Through People’s Windows is like “please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere” come true

as someone who's been through lesbian situationship this is so true

Taylor on “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me” and TTPD (Variety)

There are three types of Links

Zelda Heritage Post

This is the funnest expression ever pulled in all of starwars history

Clearly you don't own an air fryer

It’s not an appliance the Jedi would sell you

reblog for the most chaos PC we can manage

My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

happy 4/20

reblog for the most chaos PC we can manage

ttpd really is the anti-reputation

this whole album is literally “never take advice from someone who’s falling apart”