1. After I have a couple cocktails and start acting ridiculous

    sandstormander1:

    whatshouldbifflescallme:

    I’m just like:

    ANNIE. THIS. YOU. NAO. XD

    OH GLOB. KRISTOPHER, I FREAKING LOVE YOU. And yeah, this is pretty accurate, actually. XD

    1 day ago  /  45 notes  /  Source: whatshouldbifflescallme

  2. 2 days ago  /  3,995 notes  /  Source: lovequotesrus

  3. 2 days ago  /  0 notes  /  Source: ayencee

  4. 2 days ago  /  0 notes  /  Source: ayencee

  5. 4 days ago  /  7,870 notes  /  Source: suchanerd

  6. ricki-minaj:

AW!!!!!!!!! 

    ricki-minaj:

    AW!!!!!!!!! 

    (via isabellehofmann)

    4 days ago  /  43,866 notes  /  Source: afternoonsnoozebutton.com

  7. the-absolute-best-posts:

Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

    the-absolute-best-posts:

    Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

    4 days ago  /  41,678 notes  /  Source: chaystar

  8. 4 days ago  /  30,929 notes  /  Source: paint-vulgar-picture

  9. Ciara

    We’re gonna make a time machine and go back to the 90’s as high schoolers. ‘Cause those outcasts are cooler than today’s. And the music was sick.
    Y’know, I wouldn’t even mind going to the 80’s! Music was also great then, and the clothing… Meh, it’d grow on me. Oh, my wild friend… How cool are we?

    5 days ago  /  0 notes

  10. whatsgoingon12:

Just watched this
If you’re not a stupid anon click here and enjoy

    whatsgoingon12:

    Just watched this

    If you’re not a stupid anon click here and enjoy

    6 days ago  /  28,144 notes  /  Source: thetvscreen

  11. fuckyeahdementia:

ignore hitler

    fuckyeahdementia:

    ignore hitler

    (via fuckyeahcoolthings)

    6 days ago  /  13,102 notes  /  Source: ignorehitler

  12. 6 days ago  /  11,555 notes  /  Source: neckerchiefs

  13. the-absolute-best-posts:

ladysouth:
As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)
A sweet lesson on patience. A NYC Taxi driver wrote:I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboardbox filled with photos and glassware.‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drivethrough downtown?’‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.They must have been expecting her.I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.‘Nothing,’ I said‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

    the-absolute-best-posts:

    ladysouth:

    As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)

    A sweet lesson on patience. 

    A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

    I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

    After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

    By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

    There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
    box filled with photos and glassware.

    ‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

    She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

    She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

    ‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
    through downtown?’

    ‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

    ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

    I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

    ‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

    For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

    We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

    Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

    As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
    We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

    Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
    They must have been expecting her.

    I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

    ‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

    ‘Nothing,’ I said

    ‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

    ‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

    Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

    ‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

    I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

    I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

    On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

    We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

    But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

    Follow this blog, you will love it on your dashboard

    1 week ago  /  97,604 notes  /  Source: mishalmoorebloggyblog

  14. (via glitterandnightmares)

    1 week ago  /  16,003 notes  /  Source: raindropsonmyroses

  15. mememaster:

Follow the MemeMaster For more funny post!

    mememaster:

    Follow the MemeMaster For more funny post!

    (via glitterandnightmares)

    1 week ago  /  491 notes  /  Source: agriking