hand-picked

GROW UP AMY BE STRONGER AMY UGHHH (( RANTING PLZ DON'T REBLOG THIS IT'S NOT FOR REBLOGGING IT'S A PERSONAL POST))

My parents came home from a trip to the store right? My dad said to be outside on the porch waiting with all my bros. So I got them all out there and then dad comes home. Does he say thank you for following his instruction like he wanted me to? Nope. We go out and I get like four or five bags on either arm.


Then someone’s like: Don’t forget the big pack of water bottles. 


 Dad: Amy grab the big pack of water bottles. 


 Me: (( Thinking: Dad you aren’t even fuckin carrying anything. I already got enough bags carry it your damn self.)) Okay… *grabs them cause I don’t want to argue, my wrist -on my dominant hand- twists as I pick it up. I’m holding it and stumbling back. Me: Dad can you please take the water bottle pack-


 Dad: Carry the water bottle pack to the house! 


 Me: *Trying to keep hold of the pack while my wrist is throbbing in pain* Dad please take the– 


 Dad: AMY YOU TAKE THAT DAMN WATER BOTTLE PACK TO THE HOUSE— 


 Me: But Dad I—-


 Dad: AMY SO HELP ME— 


 Me: I can’t!!! *drops water bottle pack that’s filled with like 24 water bottles onto the drive way* 


 Dad: FUCK! DAMN IT AMY GO INSIDE AND THEN COME BACK FOR THE WATER BOTTLES. 



Me: I’m sorry I… I twisted my wrist when picking them up. Dad: FUCK THAT! I DON’T WANT EXCUSES. GROW UP AND AND BE STRONGER. 


 Me: (( you tell that to me with someone with low pain tolerance, old wrist injuries, and a fuck tone of mental issues )) IT’S NOT AN EXCUSE YOU KNOW I HAVE POOR GRIP AND LOW PAIN TOLERANCE– BUT FUCKING FINE! *stomps to door and takes plastic bags inside and then comes back out to get the 24 water bottles and struggles the whole way back and into the kitchen to play on table* 


 Dad: *putting things away* 


 Me: *goes over to him* I’m sorry dad for dropping the water–“ 



 Dad: I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS. JUST GROW UP AND BE STRONGER AND TRY HARDER. NOW I’LL BE IN MY ROOM DON’T BOTHER ME. - - - - 



 Nice talking to you too.. dad.

Originally posted by empressalbedo

I have been avoiding tumblr for a while, which sucks because even though it’s kind of in a relevancy decline it’s still my favourite platform probably more so because of the relevancy decline hey. But the main reason is because I’ve been getting a lot of p*rn blog follows and that’s been wigging me out. Any way this is an authentic, hand picked, artisan crafted sorry-I-haven’t-done-anything-in-a-while post. Just saying I’ve been missing tumblr and I’m going to make more of an effort to put my social media energy here rather than the terrible fb mines. That said I’ve been spending a lot of time on twitter as well, my handle is @talzir on it.

Also something of important note about our archaeology class is that the head of the department said we were the hand-picked, top current undergrad students of archaeology at UoA and 11 out of the 14 are women. 

Thrilled to be reunited with my fave fandom partners (ljummen and tsumi) to bring you this Sterek treat for Valentine’s!

One Life Stand by Vendelin (Businessman!Derek/Prostitute!Stiles, 84K)

Stiles is used to selling himself to make ends meet. But it’s getting harder to keep those ends meeting, and there’s only so much of Stiles to go around. Until a too-fancy car shows up in his neighborhood, and he meets Derek Hale.

All Derek wants is Stiles’s time, someone to stay on his arm for events and smile for the cameras. It’s the easiest job Stiles has ever had, the best-paying one he’s ever had, and he’s more than happy to sign up.

Derek is everything and nothing Stiles expects him to be, with his tailored suits, sharp mind and his quiet way of caring. But it’s just a job and Stiles never meant to fall in love.

read the fic | view tsumi’s art post

Large Amethyst Cluster

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Email sales@venusrox.com for more details and have a wonderful weekend xx

“You-chan, what the fuck”

Random headcanon

All of Joker’s clothes are custom made and Harley is in charge of getting his measurements after he ended up murdering the last few people who tried it because he was offended that they “thought they were allowed to touch me”

Every day, Words With Friends shows me a “match of the day” person they say they hand-picked *just for me*, and want me to play against.

The suggestions are priceless.

First of all, roughly 50% are grandmas.

Another 20% are middleaged guys with sunglasses who reeeaaally like to take selfies in their cars.

#1 looks to be in a driver’s seat, whereas #2 is in a passenger sea– … wait, are they in the same car? 

Are they double-car-sunglasses-selfie buddies?!

I’m not entirely sure what’s happening in this photo… which one’s Jolene? Is she the too-bright one in the foreground with no face?

…also, where on earth are they? Tile floor, some kind of seating, floor-mounted computer kiosk… I’m so confused.

At least this shot makes sense.

These nice people just wanted to take a selfie with the damp pavement outside their house. I mean, hey, we’ve all been there.

At first, I thought the app was just suggesting some guy named Steve, but then I looked at the photo, and – plot twist – it appears Steve might actually be his last name.

This also raises the question of what mother decided to name their kid Tyler Steve.

…and the same goes for the mother that named her son Zyngawf 34260864.

Poor, poor Pippifuzz. They’re just a ghostly outline, doomed forever to haunt the halls of Words With Friends suggestions.

Brandon doesn’t have it much better, seeing as he’s a cloud of mist next to a bridge. At least he has a semi-corporeal body, unlike poor Pippifuzz.


Fred… Fred’s seen some hard times.

…also, yes, the Bumble wants to play Words With Friends with me. I’m flattered.

As does this dog.

As does–…

…wait… Gandalf?

GANDALF!

YOU’RE ALIVE

GANDALF IS ALIVE AND WANTS TO PLAY WORDS WITH FRIENDS WITH ME