aliceinpunderland:

elrondbaggins:

tardis-mind-palace:

ruthyless:

when i was younger i had a really bad fear of danny devito when i was going to sleep so my older brother gave me a watch that he set to like 8 hours ahead so that it was always daytime on the watch when i was asleep and he told me it would confuse danny devito and he would think it was daytime and get scared of the sun and leave me alon

Your brother is the best

Who the fuck changed this from vampires to Danny devito

the real question is why I was completely ready to accept that this person had a debilitating childhood fear of Danny Devito

kurtwagnermorelikekurtwagnerd:

you know what’s always bugged me? when a character is faced with some magical two headed being or some shit and one always lies while the other tells the truth and to figure out which is which the character’s like “which one of you is the liar” or something like bruh literally all you gotta do is be like “what’s two plus two” one of them’s gonna say four and the other one is gonna say 83 or some shit. there you go. answered. go on with your magical quest to defeat david bowie. 

nightmare-pegasi:

number-one-chiquita-dave:

calibrate:

number-one-chiquita-dave:

Guys did I ever tell you about the time I completely accidentally ruined a professionally made campaign for Dungeons and Dragons thanks to a single roll

Please explain

Ok so we had to fight our way to the bottom of a castle to stop a group of cultists from summoning an Orc god to the world and we got there and the ritual was already going so I ran up to the god, who had already begun to manifest, and cast Finger of Death, which kills any target I touch if they fail a Fortitude roll. Since he was a god, he had a good constitution and would have certainly survived

Except the DM rolled a 1

and the god exploded

vrabia:

Have I ever told you guys the true story of the Revolution Christmas Tree?

This one absolutely 100% happened (unlike the drunk zombie geese story which likely only 35% happened, but maybe I’ll tell you about it one day). It happened to my family when I was 4 y/o. 

So imagine Evil Commie Land in the late ‘80s: severe food shortages, no heating (seriously, people slept with their stoves on for heat and sometimes the gas was cut off and came back randomly during the night and carbon monoxide poisoning was a thing). Also large, beautiful, historical chunks of our capital city were being bulldozed into oblivion because our megalomaniac shithead supreme leader wanted to build the biggest fucking thing there was. Anyway, it sucked. 

On top of that we were also technically not supposed to celebrate Christmas, because religion is the opiate of the masses etc. etc. But we did anyway, every year and with great enthusiasm, running as we did on the sweet fuel of go ahead and tell a motherfucker they’re not allowed to do something.

So. Christmas. The way we did Christmas back in the day was to make it as secular and proletarian as possible: officially no church services, no religious carols, no Jesus thingy, no calling Santa Claus Santa Claus (we called him Old Man Frost idk)

The only thing we did exactly the same as regular Christmas, in the privacy of our homes, was the Christmas tree. This is how you got a Christmas tree:

• you went to the marketplace where Christmas tree sellers were
• these were not like, official, state-sanctioned commercial workers, but people with the capacity to somehow provide you with 1 pc. coniferous for Proletarian Christmas celebrating purposes
• I have no fucking idea who they were or how they got them
• anyway, you went to the marketplace where Christmas tree sellers were and you talked to one of them and you told them what kind of Christmas tree you wanted (options were: fir/spruce, medium-ish/small)
• you paid them in advance and agreed on a date where you’d come by and pick your Proletarian Christmas tree
• you picked up your Proletarian Christmas tree, brought it home to the family and decorated it with stuff you inherited from your great-grandmother or your mom made out of candy wrappers like 15 years before
• you celebrated Christmas. Proletarianly. 

So along comes 1989. Shit boils over and by December 21st, we have a violent revolution right on the streets of our capital city. 

Now, I was 4 and my brother was 6 months old and our parents decided that we absolutely cannot go without a regular Christmas in our house, especially now that the world is about to go to shit. We didn’t have anything, presents or nice food or. Anything? Basically. The one thing we had was dad had arranged to get our Christmas tree on the day. So he tells my mom that he’s going to pick it up, and instead of knocking him cold and chaining him to the radiator, like the sensible woman she usually is, my mom goes ok just put on an extra sweater you don’t want to catch a cold haha right?

Let me break this down for you in case there’s any misunderstanding as to what we’re talking about. Outside:

• violent riots
• army
• snipers
• tanks
• plainclothes secret police randomly shooting people dead in the street
• I seriously cannot stress the snipers enough

So off goes my dad to pick up our Christmas tree. And he’s gone for five hours, on a trip that normally takes like 30 minutes at a casual stroll. And the more time passes, the deeper my mother sinks into an all-out nervous breakdown. She’s barely keeping it together, my grandmother is trying to comfort her, while my brother is sleeping quietly, which is a good thing, because at some point there’s a weird rumbling outside our building. 

‘What’s that?’ say I, 4 years old and desperate for some straight, no-bullshit answers

‘Nothing,’ says my mom. ‘Nothing’ is the second stupidest thing to say to an observant, intelligent kid who’s been locked up for a week and kept in the dark about shit that’s very obviously happening just outside.

‘No, really, what is that?’ say I, seriously determined to get a straight, no-bullshit answer. 

Years later, after piecing bits of memories together, I realized there are only so many ways to skirt around ‘It’s a tank, dear’, which is the single stupidest thing to say to a child who’s been locked up for a week if you expect them not to run outside because they want to see, damn it. 

So when my dad finally comes home five hours later, with the goddamn tree, she’s either too exhausted to say much, or doesn’t want to have that conversation in front of her kid, who is seriously right on the brink of smashing something out of frustration. 

It wasn’t until I was in highschool that he told me he’d actually been shot at several times, because sneaking around street corners carrying a large tree is not at all suspicious when everyone is so strung up. Any sniper who might have been around absolutely did not think he was probably a revolutionary agent smuggling weapons or w/e instead of a dad trying to make a nice Christmas for his family BECAUSE WHAT THE ACTUAL EVERLOVING FUCK

So this is the story of the Revolution Christmas Tree, aka the story of how my dad almost got shot lugging around an overpriced bit of spruce in the middle of violent street fighting so his kids could have Christmas. 

There are some levels of parenting you just can’t beat. 

dorkyhanji:

dorkyhanji:

if someone tells you your clothing style is gay, respond with:

“yeah, it came out of the closet this morning.”

PETA

dear-tumb1r:

dear-tumb1r:

i-n-m-h:

testingforcake23:

dear-tumb1r:

testingforcake23:

dear-tumb1r:

you guys remember when PETA stole people pets off their porches and euthanized them?

you guys remember how it came out that PETA kills about 90% of the animals it takes in, including healthy and adoptable puppies and kittens, stating “ We could become a no-kill shelter immediately. It means we wouldn’t do as much work”?

you guys remember when PETA advocated killing all pit bulls for the crime of being pit bulls?

you guys remember when PETA handed out these comics to children when there were no adults looking?

you guys remember when they made a porn site and then filled it with videos of animal abuse, and (also in that link) claimed cats should be vegetarian?

you guys remember when PETA lied about sheep shearing, got caught, and defended the lie as true even after they admitted the sheep in their picture wasn’t even real?

you guys remember when they tried to excuse their horrifying ways by claiming that the person who exposed them was manipulating the facts by taking them and putting them in the wrong context?

Because I remember. I remember everything. 

And I’m gonna make sure everyone else remembers too. 

Why would they kill pit bulls they’re sweeties

Because PETA does not care about animals. they do not care that these dogs live and breathe and feel and want love like every other dog. they do not care about the history of human/dog bonding and co-evolution, they do not care that dogs and human beings have relied on each other for millennia, they do not care that its cruel and morally repugnant to put down an animal just because you can, they do not care about animals. 

PETA cares about money and publicity, its a corporation run by a psychopath who is afraid of pitts as it states in the link: she was apparently bit by one, and now she hates them. 

PETA doesn’t give a rats ass about animals. They just want to kill and make money off of idiots who fall of their spiel.

Some celebs support them

ah c’mon, dear-tumb1r, I think you’re being a bit harsh. I mean, okay, PETA’s done some questionable things, but it’s not like they’ve also

-spread false information about milk causing autism based on outdated bullshit information

-used holocaust imagery to compare the meat industry to concentration camps (no pictures)

-used a young man’s brutal death as a way to say “yeah that’s awful but it happens to animals every day and nobody cares about that” (tw: no pictures but the way the guy died is described and it is really horrible)

-dressed up in KKK robes and protested outside of the Westminister Dog Show to protest breeding/pure bred dogs (tw: racism)

-offered to pay the water bill for literally the poorest neighborhood in Detroit if and only if they all went vegan for a month (tw: self-righteous shitheads)

-and they definitely didn’t have two of their workers accept perfectly healthy animals from an animal hospital, with the implication that they would give them good homes, clarify that these animals were all healthy and well-tempered, and then euthanized them all in the back of a kill-van before dumping their dead bodies behind a grocery store (tw: PICTURES OF DEAD ANIMALS, animal death)

-and they totally didn’t get off pretty much scot-free for it because PETA has loads of money and lawyers to defend themselves, which coincidentally might be why the Cerate family hasn’t seen justice for their kidnapped and murdered dog, Maya. (tw: animal death)

Nah. PETA’s not that bad.

(/the heaviest of all my fucking sarcasm, I am salty as a fucking winter road, lord do I fucking hate PETA)

Did you think i was fucking joking, PETA?

I will make sure everyone fucking remembers what you’ve done. 

Bringing it back, because it’s charity season and people need to know NOT to give charity to these fuckers. 

eranss15:

devilwithasilvertongue:

umhi-im-alexis:

luvyourselfsomeesteem:

queen-arsinoe:

timonthe-fourtyfive:

winnieportleyrind:

fagvomit:

once in 5th grade my mom bought me this set of like 200 glitter pens because I had mentioned that everyone at school was obsessed with them but I didn’t really care for them so the next day I brought them to class and kids started offering to buy them so I sold them for $3 each and I made almost $500 and then I got sent to the principals office and was told I couldn’t sell them anymore like sorry that I was a natural born entrepreneur

When I was a freshman in High School our Junior/Senior classes were like 90% stoner kids. When you’re a junior/senior, you can leave the school for lunch if you want, so the majority of the kids would go hot box their cars in an abandoned parking lot a few blocks over during lunch hour.

However, since they needed time to air out, they always got back after the kitchen stopped selling lunch, and they, of course, had the mega munchies.

I started selling kids homemade baked goods at outrageous prices, but I’m a great baker so nobody complained. I was making 25 bucks for 4 muffins, and 8 dollars a brownie.

I made like 2 grand before the school made me stop selling food because it wasn’t a “school official bake sale.” but my regulars would slip me cash + orders in the hallways when we passed each other, and there was nothing in school policy about giving away food, so I would just bring them their snacks the next day. The school couldn’t touch me, I was rolling in dough, and rolling out dough, all freshman year.

Find your loopholes, kids.

born entrepreneurs…. insane…

LOL i know two kids like this.

she made some soap and offered some to my dad and said “Uh 17, I mean 7″ and I was like no, you said it right. 17.

other one sold bracelets

I know a guy in highschool who made so much money in sophmore year selling cupcakes the school shut it all down.

a kid at my school has a panini-maker so he sells paninis to other students and everyone called him Dan the Panini Man

but the campus police people shut him down because it’s not legal to sell food if it’s not a bake sale or w/e

so now he’s Dan the Paper Towel Man and he sells paper towels, but with each paper towel purchase, you get a free panini

I THOUGHT HE WAS A MYTH

Rebloggig for the Dan the paper towel man