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Broadway Is 👌🏻

@the-fangirl-of-light-blog / the-fangirl-of-light-blog.tumblr.com

She/her|| Gay|| HELL YEAH THESPIANS
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happy Thursday the 20th

I’d have to wait months or even years for another chance to reblog this, so why the fuck not?

next days you can reblog this on a Thursday the 20th

August 2015

October 2016

April 2017

July 2017

September 2018

December 2018

June 2019

February 2020

August 2020

You know, just in case you wanted to set your queue for the next 6 years

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blinkyxx

HAPPY THURSDAY THE 20TH EVERYONE

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ahhthelegend

👌🏾

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vuelosola

What your headache is tellin you

I haven’t seen this post in a min but precisely when I have a headache RN it comes up in my feed

Two quick additions, as someone who suffered from chronic migraines

1. Behind the eyes: eye strain or just long stress. More sleep will definitely make this feel better. 2. Temples: unclench your jaw, as that bone is putting too much pressure on your temples.

This is a fucking life saviour with the amount of headaches I have

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halleywars
Biology Teacher: Now, I’m gonna draw the human body, haha, ok don’t tease me
Class: *giggling*
Biology Teacher: Hehe, come on guys I can’t even draw a stick man! Bear with me here!
Biology Teacher: *Draws an extremely detailed hentai cg from like 2004 Photobucket and colors it and everything*
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Being up at 4-5 am is like loading in a level but the textures haven’t loaded all the way through yet.

i like this text post a lot because it’s a comparison between two extremely different styles of humor despite it, effectively, being the same joke

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DO NOT EVER ARRANGE TO MEET SOMEONE IRL WHO IS FROM OHIO

they are corn

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cornfucker

who from ohio wants to fucking party

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tearanny

I am

from Ohio

Iowa is actually the one made of corn. I should know. I am from iowa. I am a corn person.

I WAS BORN IN IOWA BUT GREW UP IN OHIO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH DOUBLE CORN PERSON

CRYPTID

the entire Midwest is just cryptids. we’re not people. we are all some cryptid.

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after dying god informs you that hell is a myth, and “everyone sins, its ok”. instead the dead are sorted into six “houses of heaven” based on the sins they chose.

We arrived first at the House of Lust. “House” is a misleading term. It was more of a camp, spread over acres and acres of lush forest. There was a white sandy beach (nude, of course) full of copulating couples. There were little cabins sprinkled all along the path, from which orgasmic moans regularly came belting out. Men with six pack abs and women with perky breasts strolled by without even noticing me and God. They only had eyes for each other, tickling and pinching each other with flirtatious giggles.

“What do you think?” God asked as we passed a nineteen-way taking place in a pool of champagne. Little cherubs flitted overhead armed with mops and cleaning supplies, thankfully. “Lust is our most popular sin.” I eyed the supermodel-like figures of a couple passing nearby, and could easily see why. “You can look however you want. Hell, you can be whatever gender you want. No fetish is too taboo, and no desire can be denied here.”

It was quite tempting, but I wasn’t ready to make a permanent decision here. “Let’s see the others,” I told God.

We carried on to Greed. We passed rows and rows of mansions, each more opulent than the next. Some of them were so large that they would have had enough bed rooms to fit my entire hometown. And so many different styles: one second, we were in a beautiful French vineyard in front of a gorgeous chateau with the Alps in the background. The next second, a warm tropical beach with a modern mansion atop breathtaking cliffs. After that, a ski chalet in Colorado with a roaring fire in a hearth large enough to fit an ox. Each one had various Italian sports cars and Rolls Royces parked in front, with the occasional smattering of boats, helicopters, etc.

“Any material desire you ever wanted,” God explained. “Your own world, where you can have everything. You want the Hope Diamond? You can fly to Washington DC in your own solid gold helicopter and buy it from the Smithsonian. Hell, you can just buy the Smithsonian.”

Also tempting, but I decided to keep looking.

Gluttony was next up. Tables and tables of the very finest foods: beautiful steaks cooked medium rare; butter-poached lobster tail; fresh oysters on a half shell; exotic wines in dusty bottles that had been hiding in the cellars of the world’s finest restaurants. Everyone had a glass of champagne in hand and simply lounged on couches and chairs near the tables, eating endlessly. As soon as the inhabitants took a bite, the food just instantly came back. My mouth watered even watching them.

“In every other House, the food is practically sawdust compared to Gluttony,” God explained. “You haven’t truly experienced heaven until you’ve been to Gluttony.”

I shook my head, and we kept moving.

Sloth was as you’d expect. An endless sea of the softest mattresses, stacked with cushions and pillows that made the story of the princess and the pea seem minimalist. Little angels visited each resident, giving them massages that made them all melt into their blankets.

Wrath was… well, a lot like what I’d expect Hell to be like. Fire, brimstone, whips, torture.. you know, the works. Except here, you weren’t the one being tortured. Every enemy you’d ever made in your real life was now under your thumb. “Lots of people choose their fathers,” God explained. “Lots of grudges against parents in general, you know. But you’re not limited to that. Someone beat you out for a big promotion back on Earth? Take your pound of flesh here.”

Then we arrived at Envy. It looked… well, a lot like home.

“Go on in,” God said, gesturing toward the door. I turned the knob and walked in… and found Emily waiting inside. She ran forward, wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a kiss right on my lips. “Welcome home, honey.”

I looked back toward God. “Oh, don’t be coy,” he said. “You have no secrets from me. We all know that you were in love with your best friend’s wife.” She didn’t seem to hear him at all; she went back into the hall. “We all know that you just settled for your own wife while secretly pining after her. Well, this is your chance to live happily ever after.”

I peered into the kitchen. Emily was baking something, wearing nothing but an apron. Her curly black hair fell softly over her shoulder as she whisked ingredients. She turned back, noticed I was observing her, and an enthusiastic smile spread across her face.

“It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” God whispered in my ear.

I wanted to take it. God damn did I want to take it. But I shook my head.

God seemed puzzled. “You need to make a decision,” he told me.

“I haven’t seen Pride yet.”

He scoffed. “No one ever wants Pride, trust me.”

“Well, I want to see it.”

_________________________

Pride was boring. Just a row of workbenches in a bare white room.

“I don’t get it,” I told God.

“Yeah, no one does,” he answered. “That’s why no one ever chooses it. Doesn’t cavorting in Lust sound better than sitting here building little trinkets for the rest of eternity? Wouldn’t you rather gorge yourself in Gluttony? Or spend time with Emily in Envy?”

I considered the options again. “I pick Pride,” I finally told him.

He narrowed his eyes. “What? Look at it!” He gestured around the room again. There wasn’t much to look at. “Why would you choose this for the rest of time?”

“Because you don’t want me to pick it,” I told him. If he was really God, he’d know what a contrarian I can be. And I knew he was hiding something, trying to pretend like Pride didn’t exist. There was something special about it.

God scowled back. “Fine.” He led me over to one of the workbenches. In the center, there was a black space. A blank, empty void that went on forever. “Here’s your universe,” he said. “You’ve got seven days to get started.” He took his seat at the bench next to me and went back to tinkering in his own world. After a long pause, he finally spoke again: “You know, it might be nice for me to actually have some company for once.”

Hoooly shit, what a great ending.

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oh god what did i do

IT SUMMONS MAIL EVERYONE TRY IT

HOLY FUCKING COW.

OKAY IT’S TRUE

WHAT

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imivi

???

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I THOUGHT IT WAS A JOKE

WHAT HOW

I’ve been wondering what message it sends for awhile now, apparently it’s random?

uhh?

IT FUCKING WORKS WTF

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😂😂😂😂

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glassescat

OK SO I WAS AT THE FABRIC STORE AND I WALKED BY SOME MEMORIAL DAY THEMED FABRIC AND 

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS

WHY ARE THE ABS SO DETAILED AND NOT THE FACE WHAT

OMFG LINCOLN LOOKS LIKE EDWARD CULLEN WITH A BEARD I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS SHIT

I HAVE A DRESS MADE OUT OF THIS FABRIC AND I GOT TO BE IN A PARADE BECAUSE OF IT

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OKAY I WORK IN A FABRIC STORE AND ONE TIME THIS LITTLE OLD LADY CAME UP TO ME AND SLAMMED THE INDEPENDENCE DAY ONE DOWN ON THE COUNTER AND SAID, “THIS. THIS IS WHAT OUR COUNTRY NEEDS.”

I had an older man come into the fabric store that I used to work in and dropped 3 bolts of the firefighter one on my counter and said, “I need this. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with it, but I need it.” a man behind him then yelled, “Pyjamas!” and the first man said, “My husband recommends pyjamas.” 

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mojoflower

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