actsofinsanity:

dr-watsons-lover:

iampox:

Ten pictures that will make you love advertising

This right here is what advertising should be. Not sexualizing men and women. Just clever little things like this.

the van gogh and shark one though

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ensign-rei-hino:

thefrogman:

THE STORY OF EASTER (As best I can remember)
On a dark and stormy Friday, way back in the year 1492, a young lad by the name of Jesus Marvin Christ was preparing for his execution. He was to be hung on a crucifix until the life drained from his body.
Don’t worry, things get happier… right after the whipping part. And the part where they mock him and give him a crown of thorns. And the part where he had to carry his cross up a big hill. And the part where they gave him putrid wine and Jesus was like, “nah, I don’t drink.” Then there was the part where they jabbed him with a spear. And of course there was the whole dying thing.
They called this day “Good Friday” …because of course they did.

READ THE REST ON MEDIUM.COM
YOU’LL LAUGH, I PROMISE!

I mean, that’s what I was taught. I might be wrong though.

ensign-rei-hino:

thefrogman:

THE STORY OF EASTER (As best I can remember)

On a dark and stormy Friday, way back in the year 1492, a young lad by the name of Jesus Marvin Christ was preparing for his execution. He was to be hung on a crucifix until the life drained from his body.

Don’t worry, things get happier… right after the whipping part. And the part where they mock him and give him a crown of thorns. And the part where he had to carry his cross up a big hill. And the part where they gave him putrid wine and Jesus was like, “nah, I don’t drink.” Then there was the part where they jabbed him with a spear. And of course there was the whole dying thing.

They called this day “Good Friday” …because of course they did.

image

READ THE REST ON MEDIUM.COM

YOU’LL LAUGH, I PROMISE!

I mean, that’s what I was taught. I might be wrong though.

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ibeacumberbabe:

sh1re:

happy easter

I’m going to hell for laughing so hard at this.

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girlsbydaylight:

アナと雪の女王_落書き by on pixiv

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mamasam:

THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE THEIR EYES OPEN BUT THEY YAWN TOGETHER OH MY GOD MY HEART HAS EXPLODED.

mamasam:

THEY DON’T EVEN HAVE THEIR EYES OPEN BUT THEY YAWN TOGETHER OH MY GOD MY HEART HAS EXPLODED.

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batter-sempai:

safety-officer-barto:

fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
FULL naked.
REAL naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

That was a roller coaster ride from start to finish

Please write a book in this style. I would read it. :D

batter-sempai:

safety-officer-barto:

fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!

I get naked.

FULL naked.

REAL naked.

I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.

No cookies. Blatant nudity.

That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…

And there it was.

This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.

Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.

“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”

Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.

This was, nearly, one of those.

If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.

My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.

I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:

“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”

And inquiries such as:

“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”

Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?

That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.

An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

That was a roller coaster ride from start to finish

Please write a book in this style. I would read it. :D

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Posted 4 hours ago with 151,396 notes
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totallyradism:

Ghostbusters - 1984

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pawprintsandsnowflakes:

i made a thing

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