Reblogged from kuurtcobabe  2,465 notes
There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable… I simply am not there.
Reblogged from swagmage420  679 notes
tomoatmeal:

Looking for a way to spice up an ordinary game night? Before the group arrives, drill a head-sized hole through the center of the kitchen table. Poke your head through and then have a friend cover it with the lid to a popular game box.
Stay still and try to control your breathing. Have your friend discourage people from sliding the game box around, so as to avoid cuts and bruising to the nape of your neck or a crushed windpipe.
When they lift the lid, scream.
BONUS TIP: If you overhear someone saying they don’t want to play that game, slide your head back down through the hole and wait patiently while the guests play other games. Since they think you aren’t there, the group might start talking serious shit about you. Don’t worry: This is perfectly normal.
Interlock your fingers to shape your hands into a crude bowl. Weep silently, using the hand bowl to catch your tears. 

tomoatmeal:

Looking for a way to spice up an ordinary game night? Before the group arrives, drill a head-sized hole through the center of the kitchen table. Poke your head through and then have a friend cover it with the lid to a popular game box.

Stay still and try to control your breathing. Have your friend discourage people from sliding the game box around, so as to avoid cuts and bruising to the nape of your neck or a crushed windpipe.

When they lift the lid, scream.

BONUS TIP: If you overhear someone saying they don’t want to play that game, slide your head back down through the hole and wait patiently while the guests play other games. Since they think you aren’t there, the group might start talking serious shit about you. Don’t worry: This is perfectly normal.

Interlock your fingers to shape your hands into a crude bowl. Weep silently, using the hand bowl to catch your tears. 

Reblogged from zachsgay  99,406 notes

susemoji:

storeboughtisfine:

deepinmyb0nes:

In honor of national dog day, here’s a vid of my sister’s dog Buddy struggling to get inside. Hahahaha.

buddy does not know

this dog acting baked as hale

Reblogged from swagmage420  31,691 notes

Suddenly her mom’s silence matched Jackie’s own. “Oh, my God,” she murmured in disbelief. “Are you gay?”

"Yeah," Jackie forced herself to say.

After what felt like an eternity, her mom finally responded. “I don’t know what we could have done for God to have given us a fag as a child,” she said before hanging up.

[…]

She got a call from her older brother. “He said, ‘Mom and Dad don’t want to talk to you, but I’m supposed to tell you what’s going to happen,’” Jackie recalls. “And he’s like, ‘All your cards are going to be shut off, and Mom and Dad want you to take the car and drop it off at this specific location. Your phone’s going to last for this much longer. They don’t want you coming to the house, and you’re not to contact them. You’re not going to get any money from them. Nothing. And if you don’t return the car, they’re going to report it stolen.’ And I’m just bawling. I hung up on him because I couldn’t handle it.” Her brother was so firm, so matter-of-fact, it was as if they already weren’t family.

By You should read this Rolling Stones piece on Queer kids getting kicked out by their religious parents. And remember it.  (via fuckyeahdiomedes)