It just kicked the everloving shit out of the duck for threatening you, and wishes you a good, creative day. You are Safe Now.
this is the idea chicken
she lays an idea egg every day whether you use it or not
idea eggs will be plentiful for you because the world is a vast and fascinating source of ideas and you don’t need luck or blog voodoo to have them for breakfast every morning
Couldn’t risk not sharing this with my followers. These dinosaurs in the reblogs are very reassuring.
IM ANTI-PEDOPHILE
IM ANTI-MAP
IM ANTI-KINDERGENDER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK IT IS
PUT ME ON THE ANTI MASTERLISTS!!!!
IF YOURE A PEDOPHILE BLOCK ME!!!! IF YOU’RE A PEDOPHILE APOLOGIST BLOCK ME!!! IF YOU BELIEVE PEDOPHILES BELONG ANYWHERE NEAR THE LBGT+ COMMUNITY BLOCK ME!!!!! IF YOU’RE A MINOR ATTRACTED PERSON OR WHATEVER BLOCK ME!!!!
BASICALLY IF YOU’RE AN ADULT WHO IS ATTRACTED TO MINORS AND/OR BELIEVE YOU BELONG ANYWHERE NEAR THE LBGT+ COMMUNITY SMACK THAT BLOCK BUTTON!!!! I DONT WANT YOU INTERACTING WITH ME OR MY POSTS!!!!!! BYE!!!!
i feel kinda fucked up that im living in a country with a nazi regime and not being able to do anything about it and nothing is working. we need to take to the streets in droves and riot. gather thousands of people. throw rocks at the white house. sprinkle sugar on the campgrounds where the tents are gonna be built (2 lbs of sugar can ruin up to one ton of unset concrete). or throw hydrogen peroxide filled water balloons at the exposed steel to corrode it faster because theyre literally building concentration camps in 106°F texas heat for children who cannot regulate their body temperature like adults
nobody in power is listening so we have to do it ourselves
- the lips
- the hair
- the smirk that obviously says that he knows he’s better
- the hoodie peeking out of the Serpent Jacket
- the tattoo
- Sweet Pea
“I want to speak to a manager,” the middle-aged woman said in her stern I-used-to-be-a-soccer-mom-ten-years-ago voice, looking down at me over the top of her Gucci reading glasses.
A wicked grin split across my face and the gates of Hell opened up behind me, releasing a gust of hot wind that whipped my apron around my body and forced the woman to shield her face. Demons came forth, dancing around in flames with songs of, “She wants to speak to a manager. Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager!” before erupting into earsplitting shrieks of laughter, none louder than my own cackling.
I took in the woman’s look of utter horror before my eyes rolled back into my head and I growled,
“I am the manager.”
a thing for one of my favorite posts on this site
EDIT!!!: THE WRITER’S NEW URL IS ohdionne!!! Please credit her instead of facingthewaves! (See please that facingthewaves is empty now, no posts and no customization!)
Anonymous
