go to church cause

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I grew up Catholic. I don’t go to church anymore but I went on Christmas Eve with my parents (cause you know how you lie to your parents?). So we go into the church and I was like “I got this under control!” And then I got schooled, because they introduced a bunch of new shit!

John Mulaney’s “The Comeback Kid” | Premieres Nov. 13 on Netflix

Imagine

If mutants were real , so many of those strange videos of Internet could be caused by them , like these things that moves by itself can be moved for a telekinetic who want make a joke or just can’t control their powers.

Others like these where strange things are see in video (like eyes in the dark , shadows , or figures) can be mutants with a   physically mutation and they’re hidden in some places like a warehouse , abandoned buildings or hospitals and they’re where seen by some paranormal investigators or urban explorers who take pics and videos of them , calling them ″spectre” , “shadow people″ and  ″appearances” .

If mutants were real even some horror stories can be inspired in them , like these ones that say some people see persons with totally black eyes or others than appear or disappear without explication , in few words mutants , would be urban legends.

Example , some guys go to a random church at night (cause young guys want think they’re brave or something) and one of them see a silhouette in the dark , and a pair of  yellow shiny eyes seeing at them  , the guys get scared but one of them take a pic before they run out of the place . So that pic become so popular and everyone try to get a logic explication to the ”Church’s demon″ who reality is Kurt Wagner , Nightcrawler , a mutant , who just was praying in the church.


Now you will not see those things in the same way , do you?


Pretty Little White Girl
a personal story of racism

Written and Performed by Phyllis Dantzler

reposted with permission from the author
[warning: story contains racial slurs and terms of hatred. read at your own risk.]

It was a hot August night in 1952 when I was born in the St. Francis Hospital in Charleston, South Carolina, just five miles from where the Civil War started. I came from a mixed marriage. Mama was a Baptist but Daddy was a Methodist. Neither one would go to the other’s church. Mama took us to church with her cause she said Baptists were closer to God.

So there I was, all eight pounds, three ounces, with jet black hair just like my Daddy. As soon as Mama found out that I didn’t have one of those little things down there, she started crying and screaming, “I don’t want her! Git her away from me!”

I didn’t know my older brother was already in Heaven. I didn’t know I was supposed to replace him. The nuns had to dope Mama UP to calm her DOWN. Mama would not even hold me on the night of my birth.

Exactly four years later, Mama held me on her lap in this big blue rocking chair in the hall, with the attic fan whirling overhead. In those hot summers on the farm, you could stand under that big ol’ fan and feel it suck the sweat right off your skin. That ol’ fan was sucking hard as Mama told me this story. But only after she buttered me up, “Phyllis, I’m so glad you were born a girl. My little girl. My pretty little girl.” Of course, this was after my younger brother was born.

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“I was born on St. Patrick’s Day in Ireland […] and my dad used to tell me as a young child that the parade was because it was my birthday” (x)

caelitis  asked:

are you the sun ?? because sometimes when i look at you i've gotta squint. -- 'cause ... you're, uh, bright.

GOTTA GO TO CHURCH ON SINDAY || accepting

         Is that— a COMPLIMENT? Blond lashes flutter with a quizzical jerk of his head. Noctis is a mined maple, every drop of sap in his body long-since drained. Thus, he thinks, It’s a joke ( it must be a joke! ), that’s punchline flies like a JET over his head.

         —AND YET, there is an unmistakable sincerity in the darting of blue-grey eyes. The prince’s quips are sharp & quick in delivery; he does not sputter, does not BLUSH ( it would soil his deadpan )— The realization blooms cherry-pink ‘cross his cheeks, every freckle TWISTING from his creeping grin. His arm is a lasso, trapping the precious prince in the crook of his elbow while Prompto LAUGHS.

         “ DUDE— that’s cute as fuck. ” O PRINCE, only your thorns could soothe a weary knight. “ Lemme buy you lunch— or somethin’. Pair of sunglasses, maybe? ”

                              ANYTHING to communicate his unbridled affection.

anonymous asked:

20

20. Are you religious?
Already answered this, but whatever,
I’m not an extremist or anything like that, i just y'know go to church and talk to la virgencita sometimes, cause she has saved my ass so many times lmao

This Must Be My Exit
  • This Must Be My Exit
  • Oso Oso
  • Real Stories of True People Who Kind Of Looked Like Monsters
Play

I want a love where we stop going to church ‘cause it’s boring and sleep in on all those sunday mornings. The sun would creep in through the blinds, we would hide underneath the sheets trying to find a million ways to kill the time.

Seventeen Reaction to finding videos of you dancing sexily

I had no idea what to title this xD Anyways, thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy! ^o^

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So my dad and me were discussing why I didn’t want to go to church cause I’m a atheist. Now there was this guy behind us who butted it into the conversation when I said I’d go on Christmas

Guy: Why do atheists celebrate Christmas if you don’t believe in Jesus

Me: *snaps my head back* Idk why do you celebrate valentine’s day if no one loves you?

Guy: *sTaREs*

My dad: *stares at me*

youtube

Hey guys, remember when us Atlanta area Panic! At The Disco fans broke a 100 year old former Baptist Church by going fucking crazy two songs in? 'Cause I sure do lol. 

This was a year ago last Saturday. Good times…

I don’t understand why being “emo” is an insult. Like, hell yeah I’m emo. Fuck you. I’ve been emo trash forever.I bleed rock and roll. I go to the church of emo and pray to the emo trinity cause Panic! At The Disco never left, Fall Out Boy rose from the grave and My Chemical Romance died for our sins (not tragedies).