don't ever care how shitty they are


I’m like six years late to the fandom but here’s some terrible Valentines from everyone’s favorite Roman LARPers

send them to the profligates you least wish to kill

anonymous asked:

I don't care how shitty a customer is, you do NOT mess with their food. Ever. I've known people who ended up hospitalized because of this. Those people were not being rude either. One of them was a girl who asked for decaf because caffeine can put her in the hospital. The barista gave her regular coffee though because they thought she was just on a fad diet, and she ended up in the ER. Whether it's a preference or a dietary restriction, don't EVER, ever mess with someone's food. It's not okay.

Who else dad is weird like this 🙄
  • *in another world at another time*
  • Me: *gets text*
  • Dad: Hey, who's my favorite daughter?
  • Me: Dad?
  • Dad: Hey there, dear. 😉
  • Dad: Last time I checked I was. 😂
  • Me: *out loud* Oh my god!
  • Roommate: Please stop screaming, I'm in a very intense debate about the merits of socialism with an online friend, and I can't concentrate with you making such a racket.
  • Me: Socialism? Aren't you incredibly rich and vain?
  • Roommate: I'm a Trotskyist, you fool.
  • Me: Who cares! My dad's alive!
  • Roommate: I wasn't aware that your dad was dead?
  • Me: Neither was I. I thought he had just abandoned me and my mom all those years ago. I have quite a story about it. When I was about 14, my dad took me on a road trip to go to IHOP for a delicious breakfast. After we had finished, he got up to use the bathroom and never returned. He left me stranded in a strange IHOP two states over.
  • Roommate: You traveled two states away to go to an IHOP?
  • Me: I mean, it was a road trip.
  • Roommate: How do you know it's your dad?
  • Me: Check my phone, it says dad right there. Of course he's my dad.
  • Roommate: It could be anyone.
  • Me: There's no one else in my contacts with the name dad, other than my dad, ya goober. In fact, with every new phone I've gotten I always added his old phone number to the contacts in case of a moment just like this.
  • Roommate: Even still, don't you think it's suspicious that your father is contacting you via text nearly a decade after he abandoned you?
  • Me: No.
  • Roommate: Not even a bit?
  • Me: No. *buzz* Oh, he texted me again!
  • Dad: Hey, who's my favorite daughter?
  • Me: Me, of course! 😘
  • Dad: No.
  • Me: What?
  • Dad: You're my fifth favorite daughter.
  • Me: I don't understand.
  • Dad: I have six daughters and you're my fifth favorite one. The sixth one died in a scuba diving accident.
  • Me: So I'm your least favorite daughter?
  • Dad: No, don't think of it like that! You're not my least favorite daughter, you're just my least favorite LIVING daughter. 😉
  • Me: That doesn't make me feel better.
  • Dad: Ah, it doesn't matter. You remember me, your dad, the big wacky goofball! 😝
  • Me: I remember you trading my bicycle for coke.
  • Dad: It's a thing of the past, my daughter who I love the least. I don't want to worry about the past, let's meet up and discuss the future.
  • Me: OMG You want to meet up? Where?
  • Dad: IHOP, for old time's sake, but this time let's make it the one in town.
  • Me: *out loud* Oh my god, I'm meeting up with my dad!
  • Roommate: I'm right here, you don't have to yell.
  • Me: I'm so excited. I'm reconnecting with my father. Most girls can only dream of this moment.
  • Roommate: He honestly sounds like a terrible person.
  • Me: People change.
  • Roommate: Yeah, sometimes they become worse.
  • Me: You're just overly pessimistic because you're a goth and also a Trotskyist.
  • Roommate: Eh, I can't deny it.
  • *later at IHOP*
  • Me: *waiting at table* I can't wait to see my dad again. I wonder what he looks like. I bet he's a businessman now. Oh, or maybe he's a priest. *notices commotion at the front of the store* Hmm?
  • Waitress: Sir, please wait to be seated.
  • Disheveled Dude: I'm meeting up with someone, you flighty broad. There's not much time. Get out of my way.
  • Me: *internally* At least that guy isn't my dad.
  • Disheveled Dude: Oh, there she is. *runs and sits at my table* Oh my god, is that my little girl. You've grown up so much. You look way too much like your mom. It's bringing back some really bad memories. I'm sorta regretting. Just joking. Hahaha. WHERE THE FUCK IS OUR WAITRESS, I'M TRYING TO EAT HERE!?
  • Me: What a coincidence it is that the horrible man making a scene at the front of the restaurant is my dad...
  • Disheveled Dude: What's with the distant look on your face? You're acting like you saw a ghost. Haha, maybe you do think I'm a ghost. Hey, sorry about leaving you at the IHOP all those years ago. Kinda got bored of the whole dad thing. JESUS CHRIST, CAN YOU GUYS FUCKING HURRY UP AND GET US A WAITRESS. F-Fuck. *wipes sweat off forehead*
  • Me: Dad?
  • Disheveled Dude: WHAT!?
  • Me: *jumps in seat*
  • Disheveled Dude: Sorry, I've been really on edge recently. *nervously looks over shoulder* Where the fuck are these waitresses?
  • Me: Dad... *gets teary eyed*
  • Disheveled Dude: Oh god, are you gonna start crying on me.
  • Me: *sniffles* I'm sorry, I just missed you so much.
  • Disheveled Dude: Yeah, yeah, I missed you too. Time to move onto the next thing. Inheritance. Uh, I'm gonna die eventually, so you can have all of my money. *put suitcase stuffed with cash on the table and pushes it towards me* You can just have it now, for all I care. I mean, you never know when I'm gonna die.
  • Me: Dad, I don't want your money. I just want to spend time with you.
  • Disheveled Dude: Well, you can spend all the time in the world with me once you accept the fat wads of cash in this suitcase. I just need you to say verbally that you're accepting this money from me as a legitimate form of inheritance.
  • Me: Dad, please. I just want to talk to you.
  • Disheveled Dude: Come on and take the fucking cash, Elizabeth.
  • Me: My name's not Elizabeth.
  • Disheveled Dude: Okay, whatever. Take the money and clearly dictate that you are accepting the entirety of this money as a legitimate form of inheritance from your loving father. You can use it for college, you're college aged right. Or prenatal care. I don't fucking know. What shitty kid doesn't want FREE FUCKING MONEY!?
  • Me: *stands up from seat* Dad! You're the worst ever! I hate you! *runs out of IHOP sobbing*
  • Disheveled Dude: Fuck, I knew that wasn't going to work. *notices how dark it is outside* It's almost here. I wasted so much goddamn time. I'm never going to get rid of this thing. FUCK!
  • Waitress: *nervously* I can help you now, sir.
  • Disheveled Dude: Oh, so now you show up. I'm not so hungry now. In fact, I've lost my entire damn appetite.
  • Waitress: I'm sorry, sir. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry.
  • Disheveled Dude: Which one of those cars outside is yours?
  • Waitress: The red one.
  • Disheveled Dude: That broken down piece of shit?
  • Waitress: Yes.
  • Disheveled Dude: Guess, there's no other choice. It'll have to do. Give me your fucking keys.
  • Waitress: What?
  • Disheveled Dude: *points gun at waiter* GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING KEYS!
  • Waitress: *drops keys on the table*
  • Disheveled Dude: *tosses wads of cash at the waitress* That's easily $200,000. Go buy yourself a better car. You might want to make it quick. *runs out of IHOP*
  • Waitress: *watches disheveled dude speed off* Why is it so dark outside and where did everyone go? I guess it doesn't matter now, though. $200,000. That's a lot of money. I wonder what I'm gonna do with all this? I'm so excited that I'm lightheaded. The future is so bright now.
  • Wall of Darkness: *encroaches*

anonymous asked:

I know you don't know me and maybe you don't care. I just failed the special program I've had mental breakdowns over for the past two years. I still get to go to my college and graduated high school fine but fuck it just feels so shitty. And no one I can talk to is up. So I thought of you. And how much I don't want you to feel like this. I want life to be supercalifragilisticexpialidocious for you, I really do. I don't want you to feel like this ever. I hope you don't.

Hi Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Anon!

I’ve always looked forward to seeing you in my inbox. For the past years, it’s been a wonderful surprise each time you wish me a good day. I know I don’t reply to most of them, but I want you to know that I wish the exact same for you!

Thank you for sticking by me, even after I stopped posting. Similarly, even if the program didn’t work out for you, I wholeheartedly believe in you overcoming what comes next!

Look at you! Doing so well to graduate and push forward! That’s awesome!

Much love!
–Some comic artist!

please stay

My friends know me as an impatient person, but for you, I try to be patient. So patient that sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind because of it.

A word from you is all I need right now. I never ask much from you. Never. A simple text to let me know that you’re alive and well, that you’ve been taking care of yourself is what I need. It’s going to put my mind at ease even if it’s just for a little while.

If you could just spare a moment of your time to read my text and let me know how you’ve been, that would be really nice. That’s enough to be a birthday present, actually. A birthday that I’m not even sure you would remember. But you do, right? Right?

Just, talk to me. Let me know if you’re busy, so busy that you can’t be on the phone that much. Let me know so I don’t have to wait days and nights for you to text me back or come over. Let me know. You promised you would let me know.

Now I don’t even know if you’re reading this, but if you do… Text me, call me , or just do something to let me know how you’ve been. I’m tired of texting you without getting a single reply of it for the past few weeks.

Never thought I’d be this desperate, but gosh, it’s been weeks since the last time we talk, and right now, they way you act makes me wonder if you ever care about me or if there is ever a relationship between us, if the past five months ever means something to you. Because right now to me, it seems like you’ve been stringing me along and I’m just waiting for you to cut the rope and let me fall.

I’m trying to be patient. I really am. But I’m a human too, and honestly I don’t know how long I can do this anymore.

(aka where I write Harry Styles fan fiction based on my 6-month shitty relationship) 

friendly reminder to the anti sterek people who keep flooding the supergirl tag: Greg Berlanti, creator of Supergirl, ships sterek (◡‿◡✿)

Do you ever have those times when you sort of hover between feeling okay and feeling pretty bad and you don’t really know how you feel but overall you have zero motivation and you feel sorta empty or tired and you want to be alone but at the same time you know you don’t and you’re both indifferent and yet you care too much and overall you’re a huge ball of mood swings

do u ever just wish u could extract the 1(one) slightly less shitty part of ur disorder from ur brain & give it to the people u love like “here….be free my child…..”

you know maybe karlie and taylor don’t hang out because the loudest parts of the kaylor fandom are, quite frankly, disgusting.

considering how much people insult her, and hate on her, and act like she’s the worst person to ever exist because she’s not doing what they want.  and how elitist and arrogant everyone is.  and how people basically stalk her and karlie…

like damn.  if i was taylor i wouldn’t hang out with karlie either, for both of their sakes.

anonymous asked:

I personally don't care for how Perrie is walking ahead of Mrs. Malik in the pics; my culture and up-bringing teach you to respect your family and elders. It really just makes Perrie appear attention-thirsty and arrogant. I also watched the LM Play Tinder video and I think their attitude will hurt them more than they realize. Why be so smug and ungrateful? Haven't they ever heard the term "don't bite the hand that feeds you?" Pretty shitty attitude for being leaches and riding coattails.

All of this.