canyouloveaplayer:

kool-aid-jammers:

In all my years of reblogging shit, this has got to be the best picture to grace the page of tumblr. I don’t know why but this picture makes me very emotional.

It’s everything I ever wanted for that little table.

canyouloveaplayer:

kool-aid-jammers:

In all my years of reblogging shit, this has got to be the best picture to grace the page of tumblr. I don’t know why but this picture makes me very emotional.

It’s everything I ever wanted for that little table.

(Source: thejogging)

masterofthedinos:

etsyifyourenasty:

The Great Pumpkin is Coming


Where can I get this pin

(Source: chafedaddy)

What an adorable man he is

What an adorable man he is

(Source: helpless--wanderer)

remyreaper:

amysfall:

we need a universal hand signal for “my parents don’t know about that”

image

thesassycat:

thesassycat:

thesassycat:

thesassycat:

I was so sleep deprived the other day that I tried to zoom in on a paper

wtf I just made that post

oh wait that is my post

I havent slept in 2 days

(Source: thesassycat)

supermegagardevoir:

THUNDERSTORMS ARE PERFECT OPPORTUNITIES TO CUDDLE.
WHAT IF THE POWER GOES OUT.
LETS MAKE A FORT.
DID LIGHTNING JUST SHOOT THROUGH OUR WINDOW?
IDK.
LETS MAKE OUT.

aurantii:

bunny eating rasberries (video)

it gave the bun lipstick

(Source: iraffiruse)

humansofnewyork:

“My happiest memories are from when I was growing up in South Carolina. I remember sitting in the kitchen, waiting on breakfast and listening to the coffee perkin’. My grandmother had her own garden, and my grandfather had his own grocery store, so we always had fresh vegetables and grits and bacon and eggs. That was a big deal back then in the 50’s— for a black man to own a grocery store. If someone needed credit, my grandfather would just write their name in a book. And if they couldn’t pay, he’d just forget about it. He was shorter than I was, and very quiet. But everybody respected him. He used to walk to the store every morning before dawn, with a 38’ in his hand. Every night he’d walk home with that same gun in his hand. Even the white delivery men called him Mr. Robinson. MISTER Robinson.”

humansofnewyork:

“My happiest memories are from when I was growing up in South Carolina. I remember sitting in the kitchen, waiting on breakfast and listening to the coffee perkin’. My grandmother had her own garden, and my grandfather had his own grocery store, so we always had fresh vegetables and grits and bacon and eggs. That was a big deal back then in the 50’s— for a black man to own a grocery store. If someone needed credit, my grandfather would just write their name in a book. And if they couldn’t pay, he’d just forget about it. He was shorter than I was, and very quiet. But everybody respected him. He used to walk to the store every morning before dawn, with a 38’ in his hand. Every night he’d walk home with that same gun in his hand. Even the white delivery men called him Mr. Robinson. MISTER Robinson.”

la-ruiva:

me trying to put my life back together

la-ruiva:

me trying to put my life back together