blockhead

Each house as: a board game
  • Gryffindor: Blockhead – can be played up to 20 people, but still epic final duels, dramatic tension escalates thoroughly
  • Hufflepuff: Time’s Up! – team strategy, Answers Not Quite As Expected™, hilarity ensues
  • Ravenclaw: Mastermind – quiet game, simple but endless, the scienz of duduction pretty much
  • Slytherin: Conspiracy – Bluff™, *slams hands upon table before revealing awfully high sum of money*, persuade your ennemies into pestering one another and sneak up to victory
10

For those of you looking for something special for your 1D Valentine (or just yoself. treat yoself.) Kissy-Kissie Blockhead Direction <3 

You can mix and match your favorites! Or they can kiss you <3

Because you might sometimes need an encouraging smooch  (  - 3 -)

Harry|Liam|Louis|Niall|Zayn

Harry|Liam|Louis|Niall|Zayn

Crap Artists [prod by Blockhead]
Despot
Crap Artists [prod by Blockhead]

Everyone clap for the crap artists
A pat on the back to whichever one sounds smartest
Capture the magic of blabberin’ half-hearted
And the last rambling man standing laughs hardest
Panhandling a grand, standing on red carpets
Doing the camera flash dance in new pants, targets
Tune in to catch a glance of a new fad starting
They only listen when you spittin’ what the bad part is
Eyes glazed over, watch your idols cry for food
Words big as their appetites and none of them are true
Fresh out of shit to say but still got plenty to prove
Like these words were made for talking and talking’s not for you
My sleeves are stuffed with better ways to say things
I pull them out at the first hint of the spell breaking
Real magic making for an honorable mention
So clap where people can see you, my ego needs tending
Only tip my hat to cats with scratch to toss in it
Fill it up, while the rabbit distracts the lost children
Make a living off of milking them for teardrops
And mashing words together till the mother fucking beat stops
Soon enough they’ll tell you that you’re spouting out their dreams
Not the racket of an idiot with eyes on that supreme spot
And a folding chair to pull up at the top
For a seat next to the toilet where the shit that doesn’t stink drops
Could almost see it every time I pitch rocks
Camped out in a glass house with a slingshot