WHY WAS THIS SHOW CANCELLED

why on earth are snakes seen as mysterious, cunning and insidious, they are literal dumbasses, slithering through the world trying not to die of their own dumbassery. Sometimes my pet snake fails to eat his rat because he can’t find the head and it won’t fit into him because he tries to eat it ass first, so he gives up and sulks in his cave for three days. Sometimes he tries to wrap around his heat lamp in the middle of the night, then kaboom! falls to the ground and lies there confused for half an hour. He gets offended by his water dish. One time he got scared of his plant because a leaf touched him funny as he was slithering by. When he was little and not used to handling,he tried to bite me occasionally but missed every single time. He’s scared of black rats and won’t eat food that isn’t either white or light brown. I have no idea how he would survive in the wild. He’s not evil and mischieveous, he’s literally a cannoli with a head and he’s never had a thought in his life.

pictured: a dumbass

tom holland is not a little boy.... hes a full grown adult man who is considerably older than most of his overbearing fandom and is, also, MAKING BANK

i PROMISE you tom holland will be fine and sony didnt rip him from the arms of a weeping rdj... can you imagine being like 24 years old and having a bunch of 13 year olds on the internet decide youre also 13 because youre like 5’5’’

if you punch a minecraft bee you’re immediately sent to real life jail

and if you swing a sword at them you go to hell before you die

Killing a Minecraft bee is listed in the Geneva Conventions as a war crime and death penalty worthy.

If you harm a Minecraft bee I will teleport to your house and stab you

man i really can’t get this piece down like the fingerings are freaking me out. wait, i know the perfect solution

just put a fuck ton of rosin on the bow yeah that’ll work

Wut

Why would you lie

I trusted you

where is the oscar for this video?

god when he almost forgot what he was gonna tell his mom 

Levels to this

All the awards

And I’ll do that until I die.

i dont get offended at white people jokes even though im white because: 

my white friends that have reblogged this give me life

4. Sometimes I am a shitty white person and the jokes remind me to FUCKIN STOP

If ur white and like this post I fux with u

^absolutely

5. It’s hard to be offended when white people jokes involve bland food/tourist dads in socks and sandals/white girls in yoga pants obsessed with pumpkin spice/suburban PTA moms and other harmless and mostly true stereotypes while jokes about POC involve them being called thugs/criminals/slurs/uneducated/illegal immigrants.

i fucks with u heavy if ur white and you reblog this

6. They’re usually really fucking funny and don’t perpetuate stereotypes that will ever affect me economically, politically, or cause me any true harm, let alone create risks that “justify” my murder and/or death

Waits for my white mutuals to reblog😌

yesyesyesyes

And white people take silly photos and my white ass finds white people jokes fuckin hilarious

I know absolutely nothing about the umbrella academy so whenever I see a post about Klaus doing something badass I’m like “Oh man that Baudelaire kid went Off The Fucking Shits”

you’ve heard of:

now get ready for:

the worst thing about zodiac posts is even if you tell yourself you don’t care it’s basically impossible to avoid scrolling to check what fruit tree your sign is

I feel cheated that this wasn’t immediately followed by a ‘the signs as fruit trees’ post

the signs as fruit trees

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch.  Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out.  I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house.  I stood there, right in front of the front door.  This was a novel experience for me.  I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing. 

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back.  “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before.  Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light.  A few of them threw puzzled glances my way.  I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing.  I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed.  I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house.  I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like?  I’ll put it into the group chat.”  He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell.  It was worth a shot.  “Um, it’s just a ring of keys.  The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big.  Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out.  Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering.  It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder.  One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob.  “Girl!  Hey, GIRL!!!  We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me.  I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old.  One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered.  “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs.  I thanked them again profusely.  There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.

I think the best “Boys will be boys” situations are when they all collectively share one brain cell over the most simple of tasks

ok we're settling this discourse right now

put ur zodiac sign in the tags & if you like or dislike:

- pineapple on pizza - mint ice cream / mint chocolate - ketchup in mac n’ cheese - fries dipped in ice cream

I had this queued since september 

I had this queued since last December