owrs

anonymous asked:

Ha. Fighting for HL's freedom for so long and now we have to find owr own.

I started a support group. It’s just a bunch of booze and weed. We meet every day and burn effigies of one direction.

}{ello by Adele

}{ey by Adele’s sister whos not as famous
}{owr'ya doin by Adele’s redneck brother
}{i by Adele’s mom
}{uh? by Adele’s deaf dad
}{ow’d I get here by Adele’s distant cousin Dorothy

こんばんはTABです。

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今日も朝まで楽しまみましょう('∀`) 明日は7日はお休みとなりますのでご了承ください(´∀`) 本日も20時より営業しております!
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#tab #umeda #bar #梅田 #東通り #secret #street #隠れ家 #drink #drunk #ストリート #東梅田 #osaka #大阪 #psychedelic #サイケデリック #blacklight #ブラックライト #art #アート #tattoo #タトゥー #pierce #ピアス #シーシャ #落書き #カレー by niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiina https://www.instagram.com/p/BBckQf-OWR_/

anonymous asked:

How does the Mun think Seb would react to seeing a kitten meowing as they ate their food? (aka: making a cute/funny "owr-mnrow-mnrow-ow" noise<3)

//Oh gosh, he would react exactly like I would tbh- Let out a small squeal before moving as close as we can, on our knees, eyes fixated on the kittens only, shaky hand trying to pet them without upsetting them while they eat….. yes….that is how moronic cat lovers react to this :’D

WHL Roundup: Steenberger scores OT winner as Broncos edge Raiders

SWIFT CURRENT, Sask. - Tyler Steenbergen scored 2:09 into overtime as the Swift Current Broncos edged the Prince Albert Raiders 3-2 on Sunday in Western Hockey League action.

Jon Martin and Tyler Adams also scored for Swift Current (17-27-5).

Reid Gardiner and Kolten Olynek had goals for the Raiders (27-18-5).

Taz Burman made 30 saves for the win. Rylan Parenteau stopped 34 shots in the losing effort.

The Broncos were 1 for 3 on the power play while Prince Albert failed to score on three chances with the man advantage.

WARRIORS 9 TIGERS 3

MOOSE JAW, Sask. — Brayden Point had a hat trick as the Warriors downed Medicine Hat to snap a three-game losing skid.

Tanner Jeanot and Nikita Popugaev each scored twice for Moose Jaw (25-19-7), Dryden Hunt had a goal and three assists and Brayden Watts also scored.

Steven Owre, Max Gerlach and Chad Butcher scored for the Tigers (20-27-4).

HITMEN 6 WHEAT KINGS 3

CALGARY — Jackson Houck scored two goals and set up another as the Hitmen doubled up Brandon.

Jake Bean, Matteo Gennaro, Pavel Karnaukhov and Jordy Stallard supplied the rest of the offence with a goal and an assist apiece for Calgary (30-18-2).

Kale Clague, Tim McGauley, and Duncan Campbell scored for the Wheat Kings (31-15-4).

OIL KINGS 6 ICE 2

EDMONTON — Brett Pollock had a goal and two assists to help the Oil Kings hand Kootenay its eighth straight loss.

Dario Meyer, Brandon Baddock, Colton Kehler Kole Gable and Lane Bauer, with a goal and a helper, rounded out the offence for Edmonton (21-23-7).

Noah Philp and Zak Zborosky scored for the Ice (8-38-4).

CHIEFS 4 SILVERTIPS 1

EVERETT, Wash. — Dominic Zwerger scored twice and added two assists to power the Chiefs over Everett.

Hudson Elynuik had a goal and two assists and Keanu Yamamoto scored one goal and set up another for the Chiefs (24-20-5).

Dawson Leedahl had the lone goal for Everett (29-16-4).

THUNDERBIRDS 2 ROCKETS 0

KENT, Wash. — Logan Flodell made 23 saves as the Thunderbirds blanked Kelowna to snap a three-game slide.

Bryan Allbee and Ryan Gropp supplied the offence for Seattle (27-19-3).

Michael Herringer stopped 41 shots for the Rockets (34-13-3).

Address to a Haggis
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, 
Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
       Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
       As lang 's my arm. 

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
       In time o’ need,
While thro’ your pores the dews distil
       Like amber bead. 

His knife see Rustic-labour dight,
An’ cut ye up wi’ ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
       Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
       Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
       Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
       Bethankit hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
       Wi’ perfect sconner,
Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view
       On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
       His nieve a nit;
Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash,
       O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
       He'll make it whissle;
An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned,
       Like taps o' thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’ fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
       That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer,
       Gie her a Haggis!

- Robert Burns

When we look through a mirror we see owr selfs and what you make yourself see. If you see yourself as something your proud of. You can heal your own self doubt.

#artist #art #growth #time #aotd #instartist #instadaily #dailyart #artoftheday #aotd #texture #contemporaryart #abstract #abstractart #abstracters_anonymous #creative

HAPPY BURNS NIGHT TO ALL MY FELLOW SCOTSMEN

Upon that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the route is ta'en,
Beneath the moon’s pale beams;
There, up the cove, to stray and rove,
Among the rocks and streams
To sport that night.


Among the bonny winding banks,
Where Doon rins, wimplin’ clear,
Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks,
And shook his Carrick spear,
Some merry, friendly, country-folks,
Together did convene,
To burn their nits, and pou their stocks,
And haud their Halloween
Fu’ blithe that night.


The lasses feat, and cleanly neat,
Mair braw than when they’re fine;
Their faces blithe, fu’ sweetly kythe,
Hearts leal, and warm, and kin’;
The lads sae trig, wi’ wooer-babs,
Weel knotted on their garten,
Some unco blate, and some wi’ gabs,
Gar lasses’ hearts gang startin’
Whiles fast at night.


Then, first and foremost, through the kail,
Their stocks maun a’ be sought ance;
They steek their een, and graip and wale,
For muckle anes and straught anes.
Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,
And wander’d through the bow-kail,
And pou’t, for want o’ better shift,
A runt was like a sow-tail,
Sae bow’t that night.

Then, staught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar and cry a’ throu'ther;
The very wee things, todlin’, rin,
Wi’ stocks out owre their shouther;
And gif the custoc’s sweet or sour.
Wi’ joctelegs they taste them;
Syne cozily, aboon the door,
Wi cannie care, they’ve placed them
To lie that night.


The lasses staw frae ‘mang them a’
To pou their stalks of corn:
But Rab slips out, and jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard and fast;
Loud skirl’d a’ the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
When kitlin’ in the fause-house
Wi’ him that night.


The auld guidwife’s well-hoordit nits,
Are round and round divided,
And monie lads’ and lasses’ fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle coothie, side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa, wi’ saucy pride,
And jump out-owre the chimlie
Fu’ high that night.


Jean slips in twa wi’ tentie ee;
Wha 'twas she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, and this is me,
She says in to hersel:
He bleezed owre her, and she owre him,
As they wad never mair part;
Till, fuff! he started up the lum,
And Jean had e'en a sair heart
To see’t that night.


Poor Willie, wi’ his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi’ primsie Mallie;
And Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compared to Willie;
Mall’s nit lap out wi’ pridefu’ fling,
And her ain fit it brunt it;
While Willie lap, and swore by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.


Nell had the fause-house in her min’,
She pits hersel and Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they’re sobbin’;
Nell’s heart was dancin’ at the view,
She whisper’d Rob to leuk for’t:
Rob, stowlins, prie’d her bonny mou’,
Fu’ cozie in the neuk for’t,
Unseen that night.


But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea'es them gashin’ at their cracks,
And slips out by hersel:
She through the yard the nearest taks,
And to the kiln goes then,
And darklins graipit for the bauks,
And in the blue-clue throws then,
Right fear’t that night.


And aye she win’t, and aye she swat,
I wat she made nae jaukin’,
Till something held within the pat,
Guid Lord! but she was quakin’!
But whether 'was the deil himsel,
Or whether 'twas a bauk-en’,
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,
She didna wait on talkin’
To spier that night.


Wee Jennie to her grannie says,
“Will ye go wi’ me, grannie?
I’ll eat the apple at the glass
I gat frae Uncle Johnnie:”
She fuff’t her pipe wi’ sic a lunt,
In wrath she was sae vap'rin’,
She notice’t na, an aizle brunt
Her braw new worset apron
Out through that night.


“Ye little skelpie-limmer’s face!
I daur you try sic sportin’,
As seek the foul thief ony place,
For him to spae your fortune.
Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
Great cause ye hae to fear it;
For mony a ane has gotten a fright,
And lived and died deleeret
On sic a night.


"Ae hairst afore the Sherramoor, –
I mind’t as weel’s yestreen,
I was a gilpey then, I’m sure
I wasna past fifteen;
The simmer had been cauld and wat,
And stuff was unco green;
And aye a rantin’ kirn we gat,
And just on Halloween
It fell that night.


"Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,
A clever sturdy fallow:
His son gat Eppie Sim wi’ wean,
That lived in Achmacalla:
He gat hemp-seed, I mind it weel,
And he made unco light o’t;
But mony a day was by himsel,
He was sae sairly frighted
That very night.”


Then up gat fechtin’ Jamie Fleck,
And he swore by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;
For it was a’ but nonsense.
The auld guidman raught down the pock,
And out a hanfu’ gied him;
Syne bade him slip frae 'mang the folk,
Some time when nae ane see’d him,
And try’t that night.


He marches through amang the stacks,
Though he was something sturtin;
The graip he for a harrow taks.
And haurls it at his curpin;
And every now and then he says,
“Hemp-seed, I saw thee,
And her that is to be my lass,
Come after me, and draw thee
As fast this night.”


He whistled up Lord Lennox’ march
To keep his courage cheery;
Although his hair began to arch,
He was say fley’d and eerie:
Till presently he hears a squeak,
And then a grane and gruntle;
He by his shouther gae a keek,
And tumbled wi’ a wintle
Out-owre that night.


He roar’d a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu’ desperation!
And young and auld came runnin’ out
To hear the sad narration;
He swore 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till, stop! she trotted through them
And wha was it but grumphie
Asteer that night!


Meg fain wad to the barn hae gaen,
To win three wechts o’ naething;
But for to meet the deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in:
She gies the herd a pickle nits,
And two red-cheekit apples,
To watch, while for the barn she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That very nicht.


She turns the key wi cannie thraw,
And owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca’
Syne bauldly in she enters:
A ratton rattled up the wa’,
And she cried, Lord, preserve her!
And ran through midden-hole and a’,
And pray’d wi’ zeal and fervour,
Fu’ fast that night;


They hoy’t out Will wi’ sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanced the stack he faddom’d thrice
Was timmer-propt for thrawin’;
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak,
For some black grousome carlin;
And loot a winze, and drew a stroke, Till skin in blypes cam haurlin’
Aff’s nieves that night.


A wanton widow Leezie was,
As canty as a kittlin;
But, och! that night amang the shaws,
She got a fearfu’ settlin’!
She through the whins, and by the cairn,
And owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Whare three lairds’ lands met at a burn
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,
Was bent that night.


Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimpl’t;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays;
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl’t;
Whyles glitter’d to the nightly rays,
Wi’ bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazel,
Unseen that night.


Among the brackens, on the brae,
Between her and the moon,
The deil, or else an outler quey,
Gat up and gae a croon:
Poor Leezie’s heart maist lap the hool!
Near lav'rock-height she jumpit;
but mist a fit, and in the pool
Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,
Wi’ a plunge that night.


In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three are ranged,
And every time great care is ta'en’,
To see them duly changed:
Auld Uncle John, wha wedlock joys
Sin’ Mar’s year did desire,
Because he gat the toom dish thrice,
He heaved them on the fire
In wrath that night.


Wi’ merry sangs, and friendly cracks,
I wat they didna weary;
And unco tales, and funny jokes,
Their sports were cheap and cheery;
Till butter’d so'ns, wi’ fragrant lunt,
Set a’ their gabs a-steerin’;
Syne, wi’ a social glass o’ strunt,
They parted aff careerin’
Fu’ blythe that nigh

Gie me a Border burn
That canna rin without a turn,
And wi’ its bonnie babble fills
The glens amang oor native hills.
How men that ance have ken’d aboot it
Can leeve their after lives withoot it
I canna tell, for day and nicht
It comes unca’d for to my sicht.
I see’t this moment, plain as day,
As it comes bickerin’ owre the brae,
Atween the clumps o’ purple heather,
Glistenin’ in the summer weather,
Syne divin’ in below the grun’,
Where, hidden frae the sicht and sun,
It gibbers like a deid man’s ghost
That clamours for the licht it’s lost,
Till oot again the loupin’ limmer,
Comes dancin’ doon through shine and shimmer
At heidlang pace, till wi’ a jaw
It jumps the rocky waterfa’,
And cuts sic cantrips in the air,
The picter-pentin’ man’s despair;
A row’ntree bus’ oot ower the tap o’t,
A glassy pule to kep the lap o’t,
While on the brink the blue harebell
Keeks ower to see its bonnie sel’.
And sittin’ chirpin’ a’ its lane
A water-waggy on a stane.
Ay, penter lad, thraw to the wund
Your canvas, this is holy grund:
Wi’ a’ its highest airt acheevin’,
That picter’s deed, and this is leevin.
—  JB Selkirk

No love, your owr own. You have made it to where you are because you are ambitious and ur not looking to settle.

I want wats best for me. I want wats best for us.. by that I mean my child in the future. There is no way I will let a Human that I bring onto this world to suffer for chidish momemts. No. I will not allow that. I will take full responsibility from the day I find out your are conceived to the day you are born. U have thought about abortion which I’m not against but I would rather not take that rought