Well guess what tomorrow is
DIDN’T WE AGREE SEVERAL TIMES IN MANY POSTS TO NEVER BRING THAT UP EVER AGAIN
how does one tell a boy that one likes him
I am a boy and have a foolproof plan for this:
- text them and start playing one of those 20q games
- if they start being a dodgy fella drop em
- if they ask “You like anyone?”
reply Yeah, you.
- If they give you a negative reply sayin they dont like you back then just correct yourself to “*Yeah, you?”
dude that is genius
slow clappin’ it out.
Well, at least you
don’t live under them.
stop being so overdramatic harry
remember this basic bitch with the fucking turban and ugly ass face who teamed up with mac’s brother to murder his imaginary friends
if i had a nice body my life would improve by at least 500%
The Most Gorgeous Book Ever Has No Words Or Pictures, Just Color
This is the RGB Colorspace Atlas by Tauba Auerbach. The 8”x8” hardcover tome is pretty much an encyclopedia of every color in the RGB index. It’s huge, it’s gorgeous, and I want one.
I KNOW WHAT THIS NEEDS
It’s like they were made for each other.
i swear to fucking hell if you fuckers start shipping a book and i pen i will forcibly shove you back into the pits of hell you came from
Sensors alight, the pen trailed itself sensually down the gradient shift from yellow to blue along ample curve of paper, dipping closer and closer to the book’s spine.
“Can you imagine it?” the pen whispered, whirring and selecting #00563F with practiced intimacy. “Just picture it. With your collection and my potential…we can color the world.”
I SHIP IT
I don’t normally reblog this shit but that picture in the comments is just so freaking adorable
oh look my otp is back
i found this anti cyberbullying ad and im fucking terrified
After succumbing to a fever of some sort in 1705, Irish woman Margorie McCall was hastily buried to prevent the spread of whatever had done her in. Margorie was buried with a valuable ring, which her husband had been unable to remove due to swelling. This made her an even better target for body snatchers, who could cash in on both the corpse and the ring.
The evening after Margorie was buried, before the soil had even settled, the grave-robbers showed up and started digging. Unable to pry the ring off the finger, they decided to cut the finger off. As soon as blood was drawn, Margorie awoke from her coma, sat straight up and screamed.
The fate of the grave-robbers remains unknown. One story says the men dropped dead on the spot, while another claims they fled and never returned to their chosen profession.
Margorie climbed out of the hole and made her way back to her home.
Her husband John, a doctor, was at home with the children when he heard a knock at the door. He told the children, “If your mother were still alive, I’d swear that was her knock.”
When he opened the door to find his wife standing there, dressed in her burial clothes, blood dripping from her finger but very much alive, he dropped dead to the floor. He was buried in the plot Margorie had vacated.
Margorie went on to re-marry and have several children. When she did finally die, she was returned to Shankill Cemetery in Lurgan, Ireland, where her gravestone still stands. It bears the inscription “Lived Once, Buried Twice.”