ai-yo:

you: this generation wants to fuck vampires and shit, what happened to when vampires were scary?

me, an intellectual: vampire stories literally developed as a way to explore anxieties and fears around sex, you’re supposed to want to fuck them, that’s the point

me, a 15th century peasant: i wrote them about the plagues that cursed our village, do not assign your horny victorian vampire pamphlets to me

elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:

me any time someone tries to show me a meme on facebook or instagram that i already watched die on tumblr: 

dies-first:

The next overwatch hero should be the Blackwatch pilot and her ult is calling in her giant plane and blowing everyone off the map, team kills instantly

If any of blackwatch is on her team, she shit talks gabe

adurot:

nightguardmod:

squidinker:

so this guy at school has a 3d printer and he’s been secretly selling these

kirbies with legs

and i got mine today

here’s the handmade package

i open it and

oh

@adurot

This is what happens when you skip arm day at the gym.

fusionoflove:

if you liked creepypasta as a 12-15 year old you either stay with it, grow out of it, or you turn gay and switch to scps

banishedquasiroyal:

someone at work overheard me talking about callie and was like “wow which grade is she in?” and i about lost my shit because callie is. yknow

xxxtictacion:

dietmountainmadewka:

carbink:

mods are asleep post toilets with threatening auras

You may shit

But only once

thefingerfuckingfemalefury:

shadowdarkleonidascrusade:

megaskizzen:

I didn’t think this post could get any better

THIS COMIC IS LEGITIMATELY HOW IT HAPPENED

patchworkheart:

damiansalizar:

scope-dogg:

the-changelingx:

Why do brass knuckles look like little kitty paws

The mafia goon smashing my teeth in for not paying Don Tony his protection money: nya

NYA, SEE???

I hate it thanks

officialunitedstates:

The best part about being in law school is knowing all the laws. 

I slowly rolled down my window as the cop approached, careful to keep my hands where he could see them on the steering wheel. 

“Registration and license,” the officer commanded. 

As I made my way to the glove box, all I could think about was how people in arid areas of the United States probably get less utility out of their glove box because they never really need to store gloves in there for colder seasons, unless, of course, their use of gloves doesn’t go hand-in-hand with the climate, but rather for gripping or style reasons. 

I handed the documents to him in silence, careful to scowl at the officer just enough for him to notice but not enough for him to get angry enough to scowl back.  I had won the scowl-off.

“Do you know how fast you were going?” the policeman asked, leaning down to peer into my mysterious dark green eyes.

I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs to the brim with O2 and car air freshener.  This was my moment. 

“No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.  The Fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution, passed by Congress on September 25, 1789 A.D.”

He let me off with a speeding ticket.