What if mermaids live really long - and the longer they live, the bigger they grow?
(I guess the bigger they grow, the harder it is for them to stick their torso and even their head out of the water. That’s why no one ever sees the big ones. And definitely never the huge ones.)
A bit late to the party, but here’s my contribution to Julie Dillon’s Catalog of Merfolk. I didn’t have nearly as much time to finish this as I wanted, but I have to be up in 5 hours so this will have to do!
The voices in Deadpool’s head fuck while he sleeps
Yellow box and White box are my OTP
I ship it.
they need a ship name
Too Hebrew sounding?
and they are both men.
and so gay for eachother it isn’t even funny.
So everytime Wade goes to sleep,
Why has no one done a fanfic yet?
Dibs on first fanart:
XD OH GOD PERFECTION!
i dont care :)
how do i ask a boy out
roses are red
violets are blue
guess what, my bed
has room for two
OH MY GOD NO
twinkle twinkle little star
we can do it in a car
row, row, row your boat
gently down the stream
merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
i can make you scream
games that let you save anywhere instead of making you go to save points
Game Of Thrones gets auto-tuned and it’s goddamned delightful.
I am fucking jumping up and down and nearly crying this is so cool
So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!
I get naked.
I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.
No cookies. Blatant nudity.
That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…
And there it was.
This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.
Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.
“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”
Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”
As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.
This was, nearly, one of those.
If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.
My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.
I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:
“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”
And inquiries such as:
“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”
Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?
That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.
An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.
OMG ITS BACK
This shit needs to be published.
This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.
say it with me:
makeup is gender neutral
I whispered “makeup is gender neutral” out loud on the train and the guy next to me looked at me weird but then whispered “fuck yea” back
Being asexual is like being born without a sense of smell but everywhere you go people are spraying perfume in your face and when you ask them to stop and tell them it’s irritating and you can’t smell the perfume anyway they get huffy and respond with “Don’t lie to me; I can clearly see you have a nose. Everybody has a nose therefore everybody smells things and besides maybe you just haven’t found the right scent yet.” and then you want to scream