Don't judge. Just listen.

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sometimes my twelve year old little sister will go on club penguin and trick a bunch of girls that she’s a guy and she’ll make them think they’re dating and then she’ll have them all meet her in the same place at the same time and watch them get into catfights about who’s boyfriend she is and thats how my little sister became a cross-dressing evil mastermind pimp on club penguin

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randomlyfandom:

owlcitymordred:

stagdoeandfawn:

catully:

brigwife:

latitudeoctopus:

brigwife:

wait you mean you don’t use the word ‘fortnight’ in america???

Wait what? Then what do they use?

they don’t have a word

what do you mean they don’t have a word what kind of uncivilised people are they??

the fuck is a fortnight

It’s a word for ‘two weeks’

In America, we just say “two weeks” because America.

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throwitintheflames:

mischeviousmeghan:

thebetamale:

in chinese we dont say “i love you” we say “亂倫是最好的” which means “our love has no comparison.” i think it’s beautiful

What if someone tattooed this on themselves because of this post

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beben-eleben:

There once was a young boy with a very bad temper. The boy’s father wanted to teach him a lesson, so he gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper he must hammer a nail into their wooden fence.
On the first day of this lesson, the little boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. He was really mad!
Over the course of the next few weeks, the little boy began to control his temper, so the number of nails that were hammered into the fence dramatically decreased.
It wasn’t long before the little boy discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.
Then, the day finally came when the little boy didn’t lose his temper even once, and he became so proud of himself, he couldn’t wait to tell his father.
Pleased, his father suggested that he now pull out one nail for each day that he could hold his temper.
Several weeks went by and the day finally came when the young boy was able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.
Very gently, the father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.
“You have done very well, my son,” he smiled, “but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same.”
The little boy listened carefully as his father continued to speak.
“When you say things in anger, they leave permanent scars just like these. And no matter how many times you say you’re sorry, the wounds will still be there.”

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gayedgewarrior:

Basically, go anywhere except the lower peninsula of Michigan.

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heartcramp:

Look, if you nicely tell me that swearing makes you uncomfortable and you politely ask me not to, I will stop immediately and speak nicer than a nun.

But if you start acting like you’re on some fucking high horse, or telling me that I’m going to Hell for talking the way that I do and you can’t “be around that kind of language” then you can bet your motherfuckin’ ass that I’ll be fucking cussing like a cunt-fuckin’ sailor you maggot-ridden piece of dick.

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nepeta-walks-into-a-club:

we had a substitute teacher who kept saying he was a philosopher??? and somehow everyone was impressed by that and he said “ladies, if a guy wants to sleep with you and you say no and and he follows you around and keeps asking you no matter what you say, you should say yes, because he truly loves you” and everyone nodded at his wisdom and i just

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