k fed up
Just in case you didn't hear me the first time...
You’re cute.
Seriously.
Lest there be any question in the matter: “Don’t look at me I’m hideous!”
Please.
You’re dipped in awesome sauce and rolled in glitter, my friend.
I always forget. Should awesome sauce be refrigerated after it’s opened? And if one runs out of glitter, I assume one could substitute sequins, rhinestones and maybe even a feather or two, right?
feathers!
SWOON!
hell, in some cases… gravel works.
also, no refrigeration necessary… just screw that cap on tight.
18 notes (via nolagrrlnyc & kfedup)
Shit.
I may have gone too far this time.
Christa-Cheech is SO WRONG. I might need to lay down for a bit. This is creeping me the fuck out.
I know…day late… but my Maude, this just made me wake up the bean who had FINALLY fallen asleep in the middle of counting out loud her imaginary jump rope/headstand turns/seconds (36 jump rope turns/19 head stand seconds) and I know there are at least two people out there who haven’t seen this yet and well, just must. Christa-Cheech. Holy shit.
«Laughing so hard and so loud that my family wants me to move outside until this has passed.»
39 notes (via gorillasushi)
Just in case you didn't hear me the first time...
You’re cute.
Seriously.
Lest there be any question in the matter: “Don’t look at me I’m hideous!”
Please.
You’re dipped in awesome sauce and rolled in glitter, my friend.
I took a picture of a barn today.
inmi:
There’s a faded red barn that I drive past daily. It’s in poor shape. On the side of the barn is a white door propped up against its side. There is something about this that has drawn my eye for the past several weeks, every time I drive by. Every time, I would drive by and come up with a million excuses why I couldn’t stop to take the picture: there was too much traffic coming, the owner of the barn might think I’m casing the joint (for what, I don’t know!).
After a windy night awhile back, the door had blown down and I was sure I’d never be able to get the picture.
But someone propped up the door again, so today, I stopped.
Now that I finally took the picture I wanted to take, I think I want to take it again. It’s not quite right. I just hope it doesn’t take me several weeks to just pull over on the side of the road and just take the damn picture.
sounds like one of those instances when you have to ask yourself, really… what do you have to lose? I mean, OK… somebody comes up and asks what you’re doing and so you explain that you can’t get this beautiful barn out of your head.
You’ll send them a print.
DO IT!
I just bought these for my sister for Xmess. I wish you knew her because then you would understand.
They’re going to look so awesome on her fireplace mantle.
Oh-that cute little girl is my mom.
that photo would make a fantastic book cover.
it gives me goosebumps.
13 notes (via monkeyfrog)
Sex Advice From A Dungeons and Dragons Player
How soon into the relationship should a player bring a twelve-sided die into the sack?More.I am going to interpret your question literally and assume you are planning to fashion a string of anal beads out of the dice. A word of warning: they have slightly pointed edges that can cause discomfort. I would recommend starting with a d4 and working your way up. Usually, the third date is a good time to introduce this.
This is clearly bullshit, not a real D&D player. D4’s are pointier. D20’s make much more pleasant anal beads.
I imagine.
As someone who plays D&D and have since the 8th grade this offends me greatly! Especially the “watch out sharp edges” “use a d4”. D4 are flipping caltrops. Do not stick caltrops in your ass.
…I second the d20 option.
d100’s, bitches.
d100’s? Those are rather large. But perhaps you are more… experienced?
I would just like to say that I am so glad my D & D addicted 17 yo son thinks tumblr is for old people who like to hear themselves talk.
42 notes (via redcloud & shoesonwrong)
Sometimes I really regret clicking “like” on a facebook status update because then I have to spend many minutes of my life that I can’t get back giving attention to the inbox diarrhea that happens to my gmail account every time somebody else has something to say about that status update.
Do I go back and “unlike” the update? but I genuinely DO like the update.
I just don’t give a flying fuck into a frugal fig what anybody else thinks about that update. Or if I do care, I’m perfectly happy taking responsibility for that curiosity and clicking on it to see all by myself. I don’t need an email announcing every instance of “yes! I like this!” that happens in my motherfrakking timeline.
There’s probably a fix for that, too, but I’m logic-averse when it comes to facebook.
Stoopid facebook.
Also, and I realize, totally unrelated, but while I’m bitching:
FUCK. LINOLEUM.
also: you’re cute.
Occasionally, there are days when I want to throw my writing career in the rubbish bin and just go mindlessly fold sweaters at the Gap for the rest of my life.
Today is one of those days.
Tony doesn’t follow me, so if anybody wants to send it on up the pipeline, much obliged…and if not…that’s cool too…
I’m just stepping out of the ashes of my most recent burnout. I spent a few days just reading and eating and staring at the wall. I didn’t make any money in those few days, but I know the money I make moving forward (until the next, inevitable burnout) will be money well-spent for my clients because I did that corny-but-true Artist’s Way “fill the well” thing…
rest helps.
