In preschool when I was 5, the boys bathroom had to get a ceiling repair so everyone had to use the girls bathroom and when I was in there some kid named Jimmy walked in.
And that was the first time I saw a penis
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In preschool when I was 5, the boys bathroom had to get a ceiling repair so everyone had to use the girls bathroom and when I was in there some kid named Jimmy walked in.
And that was the first time I saw a penis
(via koriblr)
(Source: nevver, via her0inchic)
look
isn’t it adorable that’s a gosling, which is a baby goose, not the dude named ryan
but see these fluffy little puffballs
aren’t they cute
yeah
they’re really adorable up until the point when you realize they’re the SPAWN OF SATAN
LOOK AT IT ALL GROWN UP
IT HAS TEETH
THAT’S RIGHT, TEETH
TEETH ON THEIR MOTHERFUCKING TONGUE
THIS THING WILL FUCK YOU UP
THERE IS NO POINT IN RUNNING
THERE IS NO GOD DO YOU UNDERSTAND
THERE IS
NO
GOD
(via koriblr)
“I’m so good at beginnings, but in the end I always seem to destroy everything, including myself.” —
Kiera Van Gelder
(via her0inchic)[video]
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(via koriblr)
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Jamie. :)
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Q: Your chief idea of happiness?
A: Time well filled.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle answers an 1899 version of the Proust questionnaire with equal parts wisdom and snark.
Semi-related, what Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes teaches us about life.
(Source: , via marshdrifter)
The Girl with the Ponytail
When I was younger, although perhaps not that much younger, I saw the girl with the ponytail as the girl who could conquer all. She was old enough not to need her mother to plait her hair anymore, but still so young that she had not yet developed any real sense of organization, limiting her mornings to quick breakfast, choice of outfit, teethbrushing, and left no time to think about her hair as she dashed out the door. So she secured her locks with a thin, sparkly hair elastic that she kept permanently wrapped around her wrist when she was not using it, and with this hairdo she would go out and do whatever people that age would do at that time. The girl with the ponytail was for me the epitome of early adolescence: her newly-pierced ears were visible and she would show off her smile, and she could easily pull her hair back if it got in the way as she was bending over her algebra homework, or while playing volleyball, or when she kissed her first boy. Whenever I was in a drugstore with my mom the first thing I would do was run to the beauty aisle and take in all of the hair accessories put on display, hoping that by touching each elastic, clip or bobby pin long enough, I would be one step closer to being transported into the realm of the older girls I so admired. The years went by, and the girl with the ponytail met a man who convinced her that her long hair was beautiful, and so she ceded her spot to me, thus continuing the cycle. But I never kept my hair in a ponytail when the time was right, but rather in a bun, as was fashionable at the moment, for fear of being ridiculed, and I never did my algebra or picked up a volleyball or kissed my first boy like my ponytailed idol had. And now I wonder at what I did wrong not to have the childhood I’d wished for, and now I wish I could meet myself as a little girl, all wide-eyed and innocent, and tell her not to expect anything from anybody: things will never go according to plan.
(via her0inchic)
