THIS IS NOT A DRILL! I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! it’s a hammer, you call yourselves carpenters??? I asked for a drill how am I supposed to get this screw out
if a girl asks you for a tampon, I dont care how much you hate that bitch if you have one you hand it over no one deserves that level of hell
do you just ever get so mad that you mentally insult every single thing that people do around you
"hey i finished this question" good for you little fucking brat like wow didnt anyone teach you not to boast
i’m sad ‘cause when i went swimming today the 5 foot part went all the way up to my eyes and i had to stand on my toes to breath
i’m being discriminated against dangnabbit
hahah you’re short
hahah i’m gonna stab you in the neck
If you can even reach my neck
here i come motherfucker
This is the one time of year that I love wasps.
Not because the wasps themselves get any nicer. They’re horrid little creatures year round. No, it’s because I have a couple of big apple trees out back, and late August, early September is when the apples start ripening.
Now, if you don’t harvest your own fruit, there are two things you need to know about apples.
The first thing you need to know about apples is that, when apples get ripe, they tend to fall from the tree at the slightest breeze.
I often work late at the office; by the time I get home, there are piles of apples scattered everywhere - and sure enough, the wasps are out in force, gorging themselves on the fruit. When I go to clean up the windfallen apples, the wasps naturally do the “rawr, I’ma fuck you up!” routine for which wasps are known.
The second thing you need to know about apples is that they ferment very rapidly in the late August heat.
So: the wasps try to come at me, but they’re too drunk to fly. They get about an inch off the ground, then faceplant directly into the turf, flip over onto their backs, and lay there, legs twitching in the air as they try in vain to find something to sting.
Perhaps I’m a man of simple pleasures, but I bust up laughing every. single. time.
I tried to reblog this with a witty tag, but Tumblr took it as serious advice:
How do you know? Did you actually offer it some?
Man, some people aren’t fit to own Wiis.
I guess you could say they aren’t.. wii fit.
did you just
Sit the fuck down.
*goes to a party and awkwardly follows freind around the entire time*
im really curious what happened in those 22 comments
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do."
when you have the hiccups while trying to sleep
Life is so hard when your best friend is a 9.5/10 and you’re a strong 4 with the right filter and lighting