drown ur sorrows in this bottle

ralphwigguum:

Lets not forget this joke was made before the UN actually decieded to do this

hip-hop-lifestyle:

*sends pic of boner*

girl: mmm, send me one of you hard (;

me:

image

afro-dominicano:

socialjusticekoolaid:

Whites riot over pumpkins in NH and Twitter turns it into epic lesson about Ferguson, aka The Best of #PumpkinFest, PT 1. #staywoke

in this week’s episode of shit black folks would get murdered or jailed with no trial for

teslaarmor:

Me: Joins tumblr for fun

Me: starts to critically analyze almost every aspect of modern society 

grungeisde4d:

this is really selfish but

why can’t mental illness be like any other kind of sickness where you go to hospital and your loved ones come and give you flowers and tell you that they love you and hold your hand and make sure you get better

why doesn’t that happen instead of awkward silences and embarrassing tears and messy bedsheets and a bunch of other stuff no one actually talks about

w h y

I can’t find a single selfish thing in that.

hellogiggles:

I suppose people could blame me for ending Audrey Hepburn’s career. She knew her potential. If she had kept working, the parts were there for her, and her success professionally would have continued at a high level for years. But she wanted to be with her family. She wanted a private life. And she couldn’t bear the thought that she might fail as a mother. It was too important to her.

I remember her long hair, her bare feet, which as a little boy I often caressed while she put her makeup on. Whenever she had to go to a dinner or a cocktail party, she would always say, “Oh, if only I could only stay home and eat in the kitchen with you.” 

I remember school days, cramming for exams for which she probably fretted more than I did. She would test me before bed and again in the morning, waking up with a sort of sleepy head  only adults enjoy. I remember her elation at good grades, her support and positiveness for the “not so good ones”. I remember sleepovers on weekends, when we would chat with the lights out, during those precious few moments before one falls asleep. We would talk about feelings and plans and people and things, but in that way that is specific to that darkness, like two souls suspended. 

I am often asked what it was like to have a famous mother. I always answer that I don’t know. I knew her first as my mother and then as my best friend. She wanted to be a mother very much so when she had the opportunity, she did it to the fullest extent of the law. Audrey Hepburn’s son, Sean Hepburn Ferrer +

Well this made us cry :)

only 2012 kids remember this
tourist: excuse me, could you give us directions to Olive Garden?
new yorker: No, but I could give you directions to an actual italian restaurant

thelow-cal-calzone-zone:

Ben & April bonding is my fave