~ Joke by callafraser.tumblr
It’s nice to see he’s gaining self-Khanfidence…
this is the sort of web content i am looking to see every day
when McGonagall finds out that Ginny is pregnant, and that the Weasley and Potter bloodlines will converge, she marks on her calender the day the child will turn 11 and that is the day she retires
i found this on my computer. WHEN IN THE LIVING FUCK DID I MAKE THIS?!
This is a brilliant moment.
Here we have Kaylee, a mechanic who is not afraid to get a little (or a lot) of grease on her. She lives a pretty rugged life, but you know what? She also loves pretty, frilly things.
Joss could have taken her down the “I’m a tomboy and I scoff at your girly-things” route, but he didn’t. Instead he took her character and said hey, it’s okay to like engines and like pretty frilly things. You don’t have to give up one because it doesn’t fit in with the stereotype of the other.
THIS is the type of message TV should be sending; that you should never change an aspect of yourself just because you don’t fit into a stereotypical box.
Guys Do You Realize that when this kid grows up he’s going to see these
yeah cuz the future king has nothing better to do than waste his life on this shithole of a website
You really think this website will be here in 10 or 11 years?
this is literally the greatest subtitling job that has ever been done. someone learned how to speak cat.
When you wake up and get your period and you’re like “oh that’s why I was crying uncontrollably last night over a jelly bean”
if a doctor eats an apple do they have an existential crisis?
We ordered lube and rubbers online and because we spent more than $20 they sent us a free (too-big-to-use) dildo. So…
to big to use….?
You know, I’m glad you asked, because it allows me to print a correction.
I originally said it was too big to use, but yesterday I learned an important lesson about determination and believing in yourself.
Some may write you down in history
With their bitter, twisted lies
They will try to tread you in the dirt,
but still, like hope, we rise.
Yes, your sassiness upset them,
As you laughed at their impending doom,
When you walked like you had oil wells
Pupming in your living room.
Like the moon and the sun,
With the certaninty of tides,
You wrote our hopes to spring up high
And still they rise.
They wanted you broken,
Bowed head and blinded eyes
Ignoring the tears of a whole people
Strenghened by your souldful cries.
Be haughty, dig deep into the gold mines
Of the ruling class, the white and right
Show them the empty bottom, that diamond’s only carbon,
That they live on other’s plight.
They shot at you and took away your words
They cut shut your eyes.
You ingested all their hatefulness
But still, to air, you rise.
You walked out of the hut,
From a past rooted in pain,
From a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear,
Creating a daybreak a little bit more clear
Than the one before.
Bringing the gifts that your ancestors gave
You bequeathed them to us.
And you wrote.
And you rose.
Still you rise.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.