bible-jpg:

i just realised jesus faked his death for more followers

(via krustykrabforumla)

calvaliers:

chickenugga:

lady-top-hat:

sigmund-floyd:

Without lifting the pencil from the paper.

Holy shit

Vince Low is amazing

Holy shit leo

questformiddleearth:

a-great-perhaps-in-a-paper-town:

j-to-rule-the-world:

shell-tear-your-world-apart:

endsofadream:

SOMEONE DO A DATE LIKE THIS WITH ME. I’LL EVEN LET YOU TOUCH THE BOOTY.

Now that’s how you get laid boys.

thats how you get laid ANYBODY

Literally


How do two adults fit in one kiddie pool? I can’t even do that shit.

questformiddleearth:

a-great-perhaps-in-a-paper-town:

j-to-rule-the-world:

shell-tear-your-world-apart:

endsofadream:

SOMEONE DO A DATE LIKE THIS WITH ME. I’LL EVEN LET YOU TOUCH THE BOOTY.

Now that’s how you get laid boys.

thats how you get laid ANYBODY

Literally

How do two adults fit in one kiddie pool? I can’t even do that shit.

twooping:

You could’ve reblogged that from me

image

(via schloong)

mindpalce:

mindpalce:

huntereve18:

carry-on-my-wayward-butt:

mildly-intoxicated:

my favourite picture on tumblr ever

I AM LAUGHING SO HARD BECAUSE I THOUGHT OF 22 AND I SAID “TOOTY TWO” OUT LOUD AT 4AM OH GOD

Threety three

Fourty four

I have realized my mistake

mindpalce:

mindpalce:

huntereve18:

carry-on-my-wayward-butt:

mildly-intoxicated:

my favourite picture on tumblr ever

I AM LAUGHING SO HARD BECAUSE I THOUGHT OF 22 AND I SAID “TOOTY TWO” OUT LOUD AT 4AM OH GOD

Threety three

Fourty four

I have realized my mistake

(via schloong)

koblala:

jayrockin:

Snowflakes are actually the perfect metaphor for people. Each one IS unique, but we all have the same structure and are pretty similar in spite of our differences. And really, with as many around as there is, aint no one gonna notice your differences unless they care enough to look closely.

People are also similar to snowflakes in that it is difficult to drive when there are too many of them piled up on the road.

Well that took a turn I didn’t expect

(via slothofthemonth)

tamaraneanprincessofgallifrey:

Come to join my crew, lad? Welcome aboard!

these movies were pure gold and you are irrelevant if you thought otherwise

(via rnacklemoriarty)

fatfluffyfit:

Some days I sit back and think “Wow I’m doing so great for myself, I’m really going places and I really know what I’m doing” but then other days I wake up and wonder if I’m really doing that good for myself, if I’m ever going to go anywhere, or if I’m doing anything right at all. 

(via abridgedcynic)

building-an-unstoppable-fist:

archiemcphee:

As part of a tour put on by an organization called The Mystical Arts of Tibet, a group of Tibetan Buddhist monks from the Drepung Loseling Monastery in India recently visited the Crow Collection of Asian Art in Dallas, Texas. They were there for a weeklong residency during which they constructed this magnificent Tantric Buddhist mandala sandpainting.

The monks will spend up to eight hours a day working together on one of their sandpaintings. The process starts with an opening ceremony and the consecration of work site.

Each work begins as a drawing, the outline of the mandala. Then, colored sand is poured from traditional metal funnels called chak-purs. Each monk holds a chak-pur in one hand, while running a metal rod on its grated surface; the vibration causes the sands to flow like liquid.

Once the sandpainting has been completed it is ceremoniously destroyed using a ritual vajra.

"The sands are swept up and placed in an urn; to fulfill the function of healing, half is distributed to the audience at the closing ceremony, while the remainder is carried to a nearby body of water, where it is deposited. The waters then carry the healing blessing to the ocean, and from there it spreads throughout the world for planetary healing."

Click here to learn more about The Mystical Arts of Tibet

[via My Modern Metropolis]

They did this at my school actually. It was pretty cool.

strangergirls:

oy-eld-thankee:

I love how the other one is like “whoop, heres my ride”

Get in, loser, we’re going mopping

strangergirls:

oy-eld-thankee:

I love how the other one is like “whoop, heres my ride”

Get in, loser, we’re going mopping

(via caffeinatedcanadian)

fitblueberrymuffin:

i just want someone i could hug and fuck

Depression is hard to understand, because it is not a consistent state. Depression is rather like a virus, but like a virus, it has its manageable days and its acute, life-threatening flare-ups. You can be in a depression and still laugh at a friend’s joke or have a good night at dinner or manage low-level functioning. You grocery shop and stop to pet a puppy on the corner, talk to friends in a café, maybe write something you don’t hate. When this happens, you might examine your day for clues like reading tea leaves in a cup: Was it the egg for breakfast that made the difference? The three-mile run? You think, well, maybe this thing has moved on now. And you make no sudden moves for fear of attracting its abusive attention again.

But other times…

Other times, it’s as if a hole is opening inside you, wider and wider, pressing against your lungs, pushing your internal organs into unnatural places, and you cannot draw a true breath. You are breaking inside, slowly, and everything that keeps you tethered to your life, all of your normal responses, is being sucked through the hole like an airlock emptying into space. These are the times Holly Golightly called the Mean Reds.

I call it White Knuckling it.

Miles and Miles of No Man’s Land, Libba Bray (via babybirched)

(via spikespiegell)