By the way, the current presidential limo is actually nicknamed “The Beast,” because, well:

The doors of the presidential state car have no keyholes; the way to open the passenger doors on the limousine is a secret known only to the Secret Service. It has more 5-inch (130 mm)-thick bulletproof glass than the previous model, and only the driver’s window opens (to pay tolls). It also has run-flat tires, and an interior which is 100% sealed to protect the occupants in the event of a chemical attack. The current presidential state car boasts rocket-propelled grenades, night vision optics, a tear gas cannon, on-board oxygen tanks, an armored fuel tank filled with foam to prevent explosion, pump-action shotguns, and 2 US pints (0.95 l; 1.7 imp pt) of the president’s blood type. The current presidential state car can also fire “multi-spectrum infrared smoke grenades as a counter-measure to a rocket-propelled grenade attack or anti-tank missiles.” The car features 8-inch (200 mm)-thick doors. General Motors spokeswoman Joanne K. Krell said of the new presidential state car, “The presidential vehicle is built to precise and special specifications, undergoes extreme testing and development, and also incorporates many of the top aspects of Cadillac’s ‘regular’ cars – such as signature design, hand-cut-and-sewn interiors, etc.”

Expectations vs Reality

Hyungwon: Dang I’m freezing

Wonho: Here, have my jacket


Hyungwon: Dang I’m freezing

Kihyun: Well damn Hyungwon I can’t control the weather

Hyungwon: Well fuckin learn how otherwise give me your jacket u pint sized bowl of salt if I’m cold u damn straight give me your jacket because I will fuckin get what I want and if that jacket isn’t on me in 5 seconds you will burn in hell not having to worry about being cold anymore.

Kihyun: lmao still not giving u my jacket

silver-89  asked:

Can you tell me more about Dick and Damian? I haven't read much of the comics but Dick is my fave Robin and I'd love to know more about someone important to him. :D

okay so for a while dick grayson was batman because bruce died. and bruce died right after finding out that he has like a biological son (damian). so damian became robin. as you can imagine it didnt go very well because damian is a ball of ninja brainwashed murder + bruce’s terrible personality pint sized, and dick is super bubbly and positive. but eventually they bonded and damian became less murdery

but then everyone thought dick had died (but really he was on a secret james bond spy mission type thing) and then found out he hadnt, so damian tackle hugged him the first time they saw each other after dick fake dying

so yea they’re really cute i love damian wayne the end.

by the way, anybody who tries to reblog that link about the church being ruined by pee to screech about MUH MERKELFUGEES R WHITE GENOCIDIN GLORIOVS EVROPA is collapsed 50km up their own asshole; German guys are accomplished and oddly enthusiastic public pissers in their own right, especially after a few pints

(Also they’ve clearly been working on that cathedral for a while now)

Back from rehab, finally back online– and on my birthday, no less! The sushi supper with friends that followed was an absolute success by all measures.

Everything in this photo has a meaning, and I’ll get to it later, I promise. But right now, I’m exausted as all hell. But I wanted to leave you with this for this fine 36th: the breakup letter my counsellor had me write to booze on my second-to-last day there.


To my once-beloved Alcohol:

I think it was around the time I was prodded awake from a blackout by police who were concerned why I would be sprawled on the ground halfway through the front doorway of my apartment complex in full Turbo cosplay that I began to wonder if, perhaps, our love was starting to lean to the unhealthy side.

Of course, I was all too eager to hear your honeymoon talk afterwards. It’ll never happen again, you promised, and by the way, did you notice pints of UV Blue are on sale? Now we’ll never have to be apart.

It was all the lying I did when we were together that really wore on me, though. You wanted to see me more and more. Daily. Hourly. First thing in the morning, even if you sent me vomiting and turning right back to you again. I see now that I was using you as a bandage as much as you used me as your vessel. I was afraid of so many things. Of failure. Of success. Of feelings at all.

You may have loved me once, but now I see we love each other too much, too deeply. Our future is nothing but the burned-out ashes of a numb, dull star. And I can’t have that. I’m going places, you see. Perhaps you might see my books from up on your shelf. I don’t honestly care either way. I’m moving on.

To what we once were (and never will be again),


small happiness is

you ask your mom to pick up a pint of Ben & Jerrys for you at the store (bc you fucking LOVE it), and asks for Cookie Dough.

she comes back, saying it was buy one get two, but they didn’t have cookie dough, instead, she got another flavor you might like.

when you open the fridge, you find yourself facing a pint of Half Baked, which was a flavor that so far was nonexistent in your country and you were always CRAZY to try. 

PS, the other pint is your first favorite flavor, fudge brownie.