d streets

there were a lot of chants i loved from the women’s march but the funniest was actually from after the march ended and all the women were flooding the streets of d.c. stopping traffic, somebody shouted “impeach trump” then somebody shouted back “PENCE SUCKS TOO” and then it caught on so probably 100k women were marching down connecticut ave chanting “PENCE SUCKS TOO! PENCE SUCKS TOO!”

anonymous asked:

Do you ever find it amusing to scratch Knockout's paint job?

When it’s come up for whatever reason…. yes. His reactions are pretty entertaining. 

But I’ve never gone out of my way to scratch him just for fun. In fact I only ever went after his paintjob specifically that one time, when he’d gone street racing after I ordered him to ask me first, and then was insubordinate on top of that. I did find it amusing to make the punishment fit the crime, since he was so concerned about that human scratching him, and I wrote “Lord” on his finish so he’d remember to address me properly. The irony was the best part really, though Knockout’s caterwauling was great too.

Nowadays I actively try not to scratch him. Still, I’m pretty pointy, and I can’t help snickering here and there when he gripes about it. Though I’ve noticed… he has gotten tougher. Oh, he’s still meticulous about his finish, but he can cope if he gets scratched. He doesn’t go straight for his buffer. So perhaps we both have more important priorities now.

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Looking back, I can’t remember the truth. I blew everything out of proportion so I could feel the hurt and betrayal and write about it in vivid detail. It was my own method of torture. My own undoing; and I enjoyed every second of it.
—  c.j.n.