Plastic Doll with Toy Food
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girls will see a catgirl with a fat ass and. well i can’t say this next part in polite company
oh. well. girls will see a catgirl with a fat ass and get so horny they pass out with little hearts circling above their unconscious head
(via catgirlcowgirl)
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As a trans woman I can confirm that they indeed found an ancient forest inside a 630ft deep sinkhole in China
cis people can reblog this but keep it on subject, please
Happy pride month everyone always remember that the sinkhole has an ecosystem large enough to house not only insects but likely several species of small birds or mammals
(via doubleca5t)
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waitingtorespawn-deactivated202:
rivalsvoids-deactivated20211130:
ALTSomeone please help me do an edit that says T instead of E.
its not the exact same as your edit but here is the elusive t-tank
(via slimegirlnuclei)
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ppl certainly draw “garfield themed anthro catgirls” who are Absolutely Not Garfield all the time but like. don’t even bother trying to capture his character so i made this
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Level 1: Prophecy proclaims that no man can kill villain; killed by woman.
Level 2: Prophecy proclaims that no weapon can harm villain; pushed down stairs and dies.
Level 3: Prophecy proclaims that villain will be brought low by no mortal hand; kicked to death by angry mob.
Level 4: Prophecy proclaims that no power on Earth shall be villain’s undoing; fatally distracted by sun in eyes.
Level 5: Prophecy proclaims that only power of laughter can defeat villain; beat up by clown.
Level **: Prophecy claims that villain cannot be killed by man nor beast, at day or night, or inside or outside. He is killed in a doorway at sunset by a half-man, half-lion
(this is actual Hindu myth)Level ???: Prophecy claims that hero cannot be killed during the day or night, nor indoors or outdoors, neither riding nor walking, not clothed and not naked, nor by any weapon lawfully made. He is killed at dusk, wrapped in a net with one foot on a cauldron and one on a goat and with a spear forged for a year during the hours when everyone is at mass.
(actual Welsh myth!)
what i’m getting from this is that rules-lawyering is an ancient and honorable tradition
Liminal spaces, ya’ll.
Aye, rules-lawyering is exactly as old as rules.
all of these guys just failed to read the terms and conditions
(via roseverdict)
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What’s that dril tweet that’s like ‘what’s do you think of bratz? We shouldn’t call women brats…they’re our sisters? Our angels.’ Or something like that
(via pinkprettycure)
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What’s the point of grinding to the bone your whole life for money if you aren’t even gonna be there to spend it…
“The less you eat, drink and buy books; the less you go to the theatre, the dance hall, the public house; the less you think, love, theorise, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more you save – the greater becomes your treasure which neither moths nor rust will devour – your capital. The less you are, the less you express your own life, the more you have, i.e., the greater is your alienated life, the greater is the store of your estranged being.” -Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844
“The thing about money is, we can always make more, so let’s go out to eat tonight!” —My dad, after being laid-off, working odd and probably demeaning jobs so we could have dinner.
“Ah, baby, I want to buy this for you, it’s not like I can take the money with me when I go.” —My mom, when she bought me new clothes while I was between jobs.
“There’ll always be a job out there you can work, but we’d prefer you happy instead.” —Both my parents on jobs (“I can always get ya a job ditch diggin! They’ll always need ditch diggers. Hard work, but no college necessary. I can talk to the Hall.”—My proud, union dad, enthused, three seconds later.)
“It doesn’t matter what they do with the money after you give it to them. Drugs, beer, it doesn’t matter, maybe that’s what they need? How do you know?” —My dad on giving money to the homeless.
“Nah, we’ll never make any money, my husband has morals.” —My mom’s friend, fondly reflecting on the fact her lawyer husband isn’t working for a big money firm.
“Don’t worry! I’ve got this!” My equally poor friend buying me dinner when my debt card declined.
“I know we didn’t have furniture in the living room when you were growing up, but—ha!—remember Balloon Ball?” —My dad reflecting on the made up, mock-volleyball game we’d play in the open living room, using balloons. He had used electrical tape to make the court.
“I’m sorry we could never take you anywhere greater growing up,” —My mom, reflecting on our “stay-cations.” (“Why?” I asked, reflecting on all our trips to the park, zoo, public swimming pools, libraries, free theater, two dollar movie days, and her and my dad right there with me and my brothers.)
Bring poor is hard and it’s not right that it happens, but I prefer it to the hustle because at the very least, poor taught me what love is and I won’t let a shitty job deny me that.
ok!!!
(via mousegard)
