chefpyro:

chefpyro:

good thing this here internet box exists. back in the 12th century or whatever i would have had to shout my bullshit from the window

me hanging out my window in the dead of night, 1127 AD: I HAVE TWELVE TOES AND SEVEN EYES

a guardsman, already aiming for my nuts with his crossbow: SHUT YON FUCKETH MOUTH

keepcalmandcarrieunderwood:

just-shower-thoughts:

If you die while making food in a slow cooker, whoever finds your body will have a nice warm meal waiting for them.

They can also eat whatever is in the slow cooker too

date-a-jew-suggestions:

prismatic-bell:

date-a-jew-suggestions:

If you would report an undocumented immigrant to ICE you would have reported me to the Nazis and I don’t fucking trust you

A note:

I live in a state where you “have to” report anyone you suspect of being undocumented (that wonderful hellhole of Arizona). Now in practice this law has fallen far short, thank goodness. But if you live in such a place and they start enforcing it, here is how you get around it:

Assume everyone who doesn’t speak English is visiting.

Never ask about their job, because if they tell you they work here then you know they’re not visiting. You see them a lot for several weeks or months? Hm. Someone in the family must be ill. That’s terribly tough. They always dress in old, ratty laborers’ clothes? I feel you, my dude, I can’t afford new clothes either, and my dad has the fashion sense of an aardvark, so sometimes it’s not even about “affording” them. They say they’ve been here for years? You must have misunderstood. Spanish isn’t your first language, after all. First and last name? It never came up, or you don’t recall–you meet a lot of people.

And then, if you’re asked: no, you haven’t seen anyone residing illegally in the United States. Just people visiting.

Very good very important addition

nutheadgee:

arealemergency:

barbex:

gettingdinnerandpossiblythinner:

My favorite is people who send me unsolicited dick pics and then they’re like, “uh, hi? Are you ignoring me?”

It’s just so funny to me. Like one minute I’m designing bioreactors and getting published for heat dissipation in polymers and then I open this godforsaken app to dudes hanging brain who can’t even pronounce “saponification” calling me a slut because I won’t give attention to their limp excuses for existence.

3 billion years of evolution and the greatest form of communication you can conjure up in your fermented omelet of a conscience is submitting your wrinkly ball sac to a stranger on the Internet to substitute the attention your parents never gave their mistake of an offspring.

This is poetry.

This is my fucking resurrection

WHy hasn’t this won a Pulitzer yet?

hellokaren:

guys i’m sorry but we’re getting close to the 2-year anniversary of when “spider-man: homecoming” filmed outside my apartment and i had to explain to security ppl that i lived across the street and t*m h*lland was so sweet and said hi and apologized for the traffic delays and told me to get home safe despite me pointing to my building 15 feet away and he was like “yes but you have to cross the street! be well!” and waved to me as i went inside oh my god am i gonna cry again

hungwy:

sapphic-matriarchy:

hungwy:

friska-freak:

nogirlfriend:

*spins my clothes in a wet metal tube then bakes them in a different metal tube to undo the wetness*

in literature this is called defamiliarization so congrats this post is officially a literary masterpiece  

In my house its called laundry! Thank you!

Three kinds of people

Im actually two of these people