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he has a face only a mother could love and maybe a grandma or great aunt or something
http://aeon.co/video/psychology/the-last-days-of-peter-bergmann-a-short-mystery-film/
i've had an upset stomach for like 2 weeks now and i keep shitting molten lava
what's wrong with me
what's wrong with me
maybe it was the stomach flu
hope you're feeling better, biba
hope you're feeling better, biba
i downloaded the gone girl soundtrack and love it so much
could you also put this gif underneath the skarsgard/lamb gif?
http://media.giphy.com/media/13KZqn5rh50dKU/giphy.gif
http://media.giphy.com/media/13KZqn5rh50dKU/giphy.gif
I’m sorry guys, you were very supporting about this blog, but I decided to quit. it didn’t last long, but it was fun. I finish with tumblr because I can’t take the hate anymore. Maybe some of my followers are from Europe and know that tonight was the Eurovision night and my country received so much hate for being in the second place. Every single post was dedicated to hate for Russia.
It’s not only tonight, I kept reading it lately more and more and wondering why people speaking like this about someone’s else motherland, about the place you’ve never been, about the nation you never saw.
It may surprise you, but I’m a political journalist and everyday I write about international politics. It’s all very complicated and you always need to do a lot of research before making some statements. However 99% of tumblr users are not following this advice and prefer to hate on other countries and it’s citizens.
I love The simpsons, I love international connection, foreign people, and I was always nice to everyone, but I can’t be a part of Tumblr anymore, because here is too much judging despite all the calls to stop racism or inequality.
It’s not only tonight, I kept reading it lately more and more and wondering why people speaking like this about someone’s else motherland, about the place you’ve never been, about the nation you never saw.
It may surprise you, but I’m a political journalist and everyday I write about international politics. It’s all very complicated and you always need to do a lot of research before making some statements. However 99% of tumblr users are not following this advice and prefer to hate on other countries and it’s citizens.
I love The simpsons, I love international connection, foreign people, and I was always nice to everyone, but I can’t be a part of Tumblr anymore, because here is too much judging despite all the calls to stop racism or inequality.
poor thing can't use his back legs why not just use him in a delicious lamb stew?
i'm getting the urge to rp an animorphs character on dreamwidth
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Why?
Over the past 24 hours I have been consumed by an overwhelming numbness, a numbness that has both protected and prevented me. Whilst this numbness has protected me from a tsunami of pain, it has also prevented me from writing this piece and only now that it is subsiding can I type the words, Frostie the Snow Goat has passed. In the early hours of Monday morning, the little champ told me he was not well, as his rapidly expanding stomach screamed bloat. With Frostie’s attending vet alerted and the administering of medications and massage commenced, the race was on to get my little buddy to her care and expertise in time. But alas, this was not to be. As the little guy took his last gasps of breath, he looked into my tear filled eyes as I begged him to stay. I told him I loved him and would do so forever more. It was not until I knew his spirit had passed that I would scream, “Why?” at the top of my lungs and sob inconsolably into his warm, sweet smelling white fur.
Whilst it would be several more hours before the clinical answer came as to why Frostie passed from this world, a lifetime of my existence will never provide me a satisfactory answer as to why life is often so unfair to such innocent creatures. The autopsy revealed that Frostie’s spinal column was riddled with abscesses that refused to acknowledge the strength and determination of the little guy, as well as the arsenal of antibiotics and medications that had been sent in to do battle. One abscess was so large that it was pressing on and compromising his little rumen, preventing it from doing all the good things rumens do to keep little goats alive. Taking some comfort in the fact that this had caused Frostie no pain until those final moments gave me little consolation as the wee chap seemed to be gambolling along in leaps and bounds.
That Frostie was a sickly little kid goat was something that we knew from the very day he came into our world. Unable to stand, let alone walk, severely dehydrated and riddled with lice, Frostie’s lot was not good, but no one told him that. He wanted to live, and that was just what we promised him we would help him do. Right from day one he began to rally, all the while displaying the happiest of dispositions and he fell head over hooves in love with me as I did with him. This fact was plainly obvious to anyone who saw us together. He loved to nibble on my hair and turn it into goaty saliva-encrusted dreadlocks. He would cry when he couldn’t see me and light up like the brightest star when he did. He had a delightful and infectious sense of joie de vivre as he scooted about at first in his little mobility cart with that ‘hey look at me’ smile, then his brave ‘hey look no wheels’ tenacious first steps skipped hearts into flutter mode across the globe.
Over the past 24 hours I have been consumed by an overwhelming numbness, a numbness that has both protected and prevented me. Whilst this numbness has protected me from a tsunami of pain, it has also prevented me from writing this piece and only now that it is subsiding can I type the words, Frostie the Snow Goat has passed. In the early hours of Monday morning, the little champ told me he was not well, as his rapidly expanding stomach screamed bloat. With Frostie’s attending vet alerted and the administering of medications and massage commenced, the race was on to get my little buddy to her care and expertise in time. But alas, this was not to be. As the little guy took his last gasps of breath, he looked into my tear filled eyes as I begged him to stay. I told him I loved him and would do so forever more. It was not until I knew his spirit had passed that I would scream, “Why?” at the top of my lungs and sob inconsolably into his warm, sweet smelling white fur.
Whilst it would be several more hours before the clinical answer came as to why Frostie passed from this world, a lifetime of my existence will never provide me a satisfactory answer as to why life is often so unfair to such innocent creatures. The autopsy revealed that Frostie’s spinal column was riddled with abscesses that refused to acknowledge the strength and determination of the little guy, as well as the arsenal of antibiotics and medications that had been sent in to do battle. One abscess was so large that it was pressing on and compromising his little rumen, preventing it from doing all the good things rumens do to keep little goats alive. Taking some comfort in the fact that this had caused Frostie no pain until those final moments gave me little consolation as the wee chap seemed to be gambolling along in leaps and bounds.
That Frostie was a sickly little kid goat was something that we knew from the very day he came into our world. Unable to stand, let alone walk, severely dehydrated and riddled with lice, Frostie’s lot was not good, but no one told him that. He wanted to live, and that was just what we promised him we would help him do. Right from day one he began to rally, all the while displaying the happiest of dispositions and he fell head over hooves in love with me as I did with him. This fact was plainly obvious to anyone who saw us together. He loved to nibble on my hair and turn it into goaty saliva-encrusted dreadlocks. He would cry when he couldn’t see me and light up like the brightest star when he did. He had a delightful and infectious sense of joie de vivre as he scooted about at first in his little mobility cart with that ‘hey look at me’ smile, then his brave ‘hey look no wheels’ tenacious first steps skipped hearts into flutter mode across the globe.
when i get older, i will be stronger, they'll call me freedom, just like a waving flag
i don't like when female characters are woobies bc it seems the default, and i like when they're hard and unrelenting, especially if they're a bad guy with no sob story
het or m/m crackships = boring and pointless
f/f where the characters have never interacted but would be interesting if they did or would just look cute together = sure y not
f/f where the characters have never interacted but would be interesting if they did or would just look cute together = sure y not
soubdtrack nona above reminds me, i just downloaded the oldboy ost and it's pretty good
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