“Can I get three hazelnuts in the two piece box?” “No, the box only fits two.” “Can I get four hazelnuts in a two piece box?” “No it only fits two.” “Even if I pay seven dollars?” “Even if you pay seven dollars, I can’t change the geometry of the box.”
Um, I can’t make this fit. And trying to bribe me with more money will no change that.
Quit Your Wingeing
This is mostly just a place where I whine about stuff that bothers me and how messed up our world is.
I’m sorry, what? How does liking something on Facebook translate into you not being racist? Also, why those two hands?
The Beautiful Lady’s family just got a new puppy!!!!!!
I fucking LOVE puppies
The obsession with marriage also sanitizes the history of queer struggle. Stonewall was not a wedding, it was a riot, led by the very queers who are now erased from the public image of gay equality. Drag queens, trans people of color, young queers, and butch dykes fought systematic violence and in Sarah Schulman’s words, “[…] arose to change society, to expand rigid gender roles, to break down confining social mores of privatized families and to defy the consumerism that accompanies monogamy and nuclear family lifestyle in the United States.
FACT: If a barista is cute, I’ll buy way more coffee than I should drink in a 24 hour period.
This is why I love being a barista. It’s super fun to flirt and free-pour latte art hearts into a hot lady’s coffee. Also why I wear red lipstick. Just flashing my gay.
I don’t know what’s going on here but I’m scared…
I think my land lord is doing work on the apartment below mine but he;s making scary noises….
WHO IN THE HELL WOULD NAME A PERFECTLY GOOD COLT “FLYING SQUIRREL”?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
What a waste of a naming opprotunity. That poor colt is going to be made fun of by the other babies and will never perform to his fullest ability (Which could be really good based on his lines) because he’s emotionally scarred for life and it’s ALL YOUR FAULT.
What would his barn name be? Squirrely?
It pisses me off when there’s a difference in the way that I interpret things when they’re coming from different people
Because if I were to walk down the road, or ride my bike, or anything and some random called me “piggy,” I wouldn’t give a shit. I would probably laugh at them or say something like “Yeah, and what of it?”
But if a loved one were to call me that -especially in front of other people- my feelings would be hurt and part of me would want to start doing things to make it so that they never called me that again. So that they never had a reason to call me that again. That’s all I want is to never hear that again.
Where do I find strength if not from within myself nor from those I love and thought loved me?
Having mojitos and beer in a hot tub with two older lesbians and then staying at their house tonight
And I grew the mint myself
he spelt tough wrong…thank you wonka!
Some people just don’t get it…
Some people just don’t get how to spell correctly. Duh.
(via xhaltsalute95)
