michaelgordons:

knowlizzycurran:

Wow… This guy makes Nash Grier look like a saint

he is fucking trash i am so angry 

tommyistoofastforthisshit:

Can we start, when teenage girls come out as bisexual, saying congratulations and then offering support and information instead of questioning them, laughing at them and saying they’re lying?

fuckingrapeculture:

[Palestinian holds up a poster:
YOU

Take my water
Burn my olive trees
Destroy my house
Take my job
Steal my land
Imprison my father
Kill my mother
Bomb my country
Starve us all
Humiliate us all
BUT
I am to blame: I shot a rocket back]

politicaldove:

The photo speaks louder than any caption ever could.

1x11 | 2x05

turianbatman:

Do you expect me to talk?
No, Ms. Bond. I expect you to die!

lesserjoke:

I see you driving ‘round town with the girl I love and I’m like that’s cool, I guess she made her choice, and I gotta respect that. There’s probably a lot more going on in her life than I was aware of, which is actually a pretty good indication that our relationship was not in a healthy place to begin with. I wish you both the best of luck in making things work, and I hope we can all stay friends over this.

mydogsnokes:

Tbh the worst part of this website is queue puns

I feel like guys need to go to a seminar on how to finger because they shouldn't be trying to dig for change.

foxnewsofficial:

boys are really paying the price for laughing through sex ed at the word vagina

They call us now.
Before they drop the bombs.
The phone rings
and someone who knows my first name
calls and says in perfect Arabic
“This is David.”
And in my stupor of sonic booms and glass shattering symphonies
still smashing around in my head
I think “Do I know any Davids in Gaza?”
They call us now to say
Run.
You have 58 seconds from the end of this message.
Your house is next.
They think of it as some kind of war time courtesy.
It doesn’t matter that
there is nowhere to run to.
It means nothing that the borders are closed
and your papers are worthless
and mark you only for a life sentence
in this prison by the sea
and the alleyways are narrow
and there are more human lives
packed one against the other
more than any other place on earth
Just run.
We aren’t trying to kill you.
It doesn’t matter that
you can’t call us back to tell us
the people we claim to want aren’t in your house
that there’s no one here
except you and your children
who were cheering for Argentina
sharing the last loaf of bread for this week
counting candles left in case the power goes out.
It doesn’t matter that you have children.
You live in the wrong place
and now is your chance to run
to nowhere.
It doesn’t matter
that 58 seconds isn’t long enough
to find your wedding album
or your son’s favorite blanket
or your daughter’s almost completed college application
or your shoes
or to gather everyone in the house.
It doesn’t matter what you had planned.
It doesn’t matter who you are
Prove you’re human.
Prove you stand on two legs.
Run.
—"Running Orders" by Lena Khalaf Tuffaha (via hubbbaahubbbaa)

I must be as strong as my lady mother.

t.