“I can diet for two or three days. I can eat a few salads and pretend like I enjoy them. But then I always have a massive relapse. I just left Checkers. Some guy handed me a coupon on the street and that was all it took. Next thing you know I’m eating two burgers and a fry. Total disaster. Only $4 though. I’ll have a salad for dinner tomorrow.”

apollisthepoet asked:

Okay, you know what, I did laugh when I saw the thing you reblogged about the garbage disposal but then I remembered the Supernatural episode where some guy put his hand in there, and...well, I sort of see your point.


Ya’ll have a goddamn monster with sharp teeth living in your sink just waiting to bite your hand off and you say we’re the brave ones

so anyway i would like to thank anyone who had a hand in the creation of ryan ross. and i mean everyone. that one guy who was running from the cops and caused his great great great grandma to fall into some guys hands and then causing them to fall in love but it turns out she was actually in love with the dudes brother whos eventually ryans great great great grandad? ur the real mvp my dude

smythesrps asked:

[MSG:] I wish we’d never met. If I Was Your Vampire

[MSG]: I wish we’d never met.

[text] HUNTER: Yes, you made that clear when I walked into your apartment and saw some guy’s hand down your pants.

[text] HUNTER: If you’re scared of being in a relationship, just say so. Don’t dangle some other guy in front of me as a ploy to try and get me to stop seeing you.

[text] HUNTER: And you’re so lucky I’m not what you are, or he would have been dead on the spot.

The other boy’s hand slid lower on Violet’s hips as they posed for the photographer, and against her better instincts, Violet couldn’t help but allow her gaze to shift over to her bodyguard. The older man hadn’t said so much as a word since they’d arrived at the music video shoot and most would have assumed that meant he had no complaints. But Violet knew better, as she knew Keith’s silent expressions almost as well as her own. Therefore when the director called for their final break, Violet quickly sauntered over to her bodyguard. “Hi,” she spoke up cheerfully. Wanting to cheer him up or to at least distract him from the image of watching some other guy’s hands all over her body for the past hour, Violet leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I’ll ride you in the limo home, Keith,. The way I know you like,” she whispered softly, her fingertips just barely grazing the lining of his belt. “Just five more minutes, okay?”

A nice man on the train offered his seat “for any of the ladies” and I looked round and there were no wee old ladies or gentlemen and no.pregant women I was like thanks so much so basically I now was like I love the patriarchy hahahaha but then I as I moved to sit down some random guy grabbed my hand and pulled it to his crotch fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck today

Last night I went to a concert and at the end I caught a drumstick, but 8 other people had their hands on it too. I had my full hand around the middle of the stick and some guy had his hand around the end. I turned around and looked at him and his girlfriend looked at me saying “let go of the stick.” I said “seriously?” and she said “yeah, seriously” and the guy ripped it out of my hand.


carriesbalcoinblood asked:

[text] You handed some guy a spoon you found, he yelled SPOON GAME, and then the two of you spent the next 20 minutes throwing spoons all over the kitchen.

texts from last night! meme

[ text sent to; cutie witch. ] are you serious?
[ text sent to; cutie witch. ] omg , guess drinking alcohol is forbidden for now….
[ text sent to; cutie witch. ] tell me there is nothing that i have to know other than that! 

“Those are the best, that come with a history.”

So in love with second hand books! As sad as I am, that someone disowned them, when I realise how important it was for it happen, so I could meet beauties like these, I feel so glad that people threw them out. *sorry, but I can’t help it*

Hope you guys find some second-hands yourself. Enjoy the day! I’ll enjoy my read.

Things That Could Not Be: Who Do You Run To?

She wasn’t even that drunk, but then again there she was, blurry-eyed as some guy’s hands found their way over her hips. She wanted to dance, sure, but was it really still just dancing with a hard-on in the mix?

Oh, fuck, maybe she was that drunk. Her cup was coming out again, more sickeningly sweet yet oddly fishy wine spilling over the lip as she brought it to the mouth she didn’t quite remember what she’d done with over the past few hours. She kept sipping, but began to gently search for some water. Of course, with just the one cup, she’d have to chug the wine- just like she’d chugged the vodka straight from the bottle, holding hands with the Dutch kid. But now, the Dutch kid’s mouth was hanging half open as he watched some slim thing dancing on the table.

It’s an hour later, and boy, is she fucked up!  She’s talking to some guy way too old for her, disgustingly too old, but he offered a cigarette and that’s what she does now, right? She gets fucked up and she smokes, even though even though the taste of it only reminds of her of gentler boys who nibbled at her neck and had hands that ached to know all of her. She’s just talking and talking, and she thinks that maybe if she just keeps sayingsomething it’ll stop her throat feeling like vomit wants to come out.

She’s on her phone, and she realizes she’s not quite sure how she’s going to get home. She’s off to find water again, but then she’s running into some guy with swooping hair and a lip piercing and maybe she doesn’t have to go home quite yet. As she’s chatting him up, he’s saying something about going for a quick drive and she knows he’s too drunk for that, she’s trying to talk him out of it. But, he’s kissing her cheek and saying he’ll be back soon, he knows he can hold his alcohol.

She wants to be sober now, wants the floor to stop flowing into the wall when she takes a step. The music’s so damn hypnotic, but it’s hurting her ears. She wants to leave, but she’s getting confused as to which way led out of the house, and she’s positive she might actually puke.More hands are on her, and this time she tries to pull away, but they only hold firmer. She’s set to kick and scream, because it’s away from the party that she’s being taken.

But, he’s turning her around and lifting her chin, making her look at him and waiting for her to register who he is in her drunken haze. Then, he’s throwing her over his shoulder, having seen her clutching the wall as she made complicated zig-zags through the hoard. He’s minorly disgusted that a group of people could see a girl this drunk and not at least check on her. But, he knows in the morning, she’ll swear they’re all her friends and that she hadn’t needed him to come to her rescue. She won’t remember that she was this drunk, and certainly has yet to register that she had called him, that he was her first thought once she was far enough gone. He’ll pretend part of the appeal of coming to get her wasn’t that he remembered how cuddling and clingly of a drunk she was.

He still hasn’t decided whether he’s going to take her home to her own bed, or his, but she sure feels heavy curled around him and he’s worried that half of her body mass is currently made up of Burnett’s and cheap mixers. She’d need water and a full night’s sleep, and he was too tired to go all the way back to hers. Besides, would her flatmates know that she wasn’t going to puke, that she never puked drunk, and that she needed to alternate drinking water, chewing Tums, and sleeping in order to feel okay the next morning?

No, she’d stay at his, he was the best option for her. He’d deal with her being upset about it in the morning, but for now he’s tossing her in the passenger seat. He’s pulling the belt over her, but she’s reaching for the cigarettes in his cupholder and he’s chuckling.

She knows from too many parking lots that he doesn’t trust her to light them, so she’s crossing her arms while he pinches one between his lips, flicking the lighter only once before handing it to her. Who’s he to tell her she’s too far gone and to take her away ffrom the party? She starts to leave, but he’s buckled her in like a child. She’s mad now, trying to shove him away from her.

He’s got her shoulders now, and he’s trying not to shake her but it’s eating at him. “You know that this is fucked up, right? You know that you shouldn’t be doing this to yourself. These aren’t your friends, okay? I’m your friend, and I’m going to take care of you. You need water and sleep, you’re too fucking drunk.”

She wants to spit in his face, but then she supposes going home with him won’t kill her, not with the way she crawled under her skin when everyone else was touching her. She settles, and he’s closing the door. She’s still got her cigarette, even though she keeps swearing shes on her last one, and he’s in the driver’s side and it’s just like it’s been a million times, like it used to be, with the two of them in his car. He closes his door, and it locks and locks and locks as she’s nodding off, but reaching her fingers out to curl around his and he can’t help but smile, no matter how mad he is, no matter how drunk she is. Because even if it shouldn’t be, it is, and for now, that’s enough.