(via scout)
Oh my goodness. For an ENTIRE YEAR I have been insisting to anyone who will listen that Dachshunds wearing glasses look like Woody Allen! I mostly referenced a picture of a Dachshund where I drew glasses on his face with MS Paint.
Guys, if that Dachshund didn’t have a chubby puppy face and wasn’t wearing WIRE FRAMED glasses, you would all suddenly realize my genius.
Margaret Atwood, she could not stop me
Virginia Woolf, she could not stop me
The truth is I wanted to go
It is all I know, it is all I know
Sweet, sweet forever
I’ll comfort myself in my next life
Regina Spektor - Paris
(It cuts out early? Blame tumblr, I am.)
I know that this is both morally and logically unsound, but the thought of an evil midget terrifies me so much more than the thought of an evil 5’ 10” man.
By the way, I still remember the first time I saw a little person. I was 4 and no one had gone over the fact that they are real people with me, I had only seen them in movies and assumed that they were make believe, just like every dragon and unicorn. After I saw that first one in Maine two thoughts ran through my head
1) Holy shit, my parents are lying to me, they’re lying. Dragons and monsters are fucking real.
and
2) Maine is home to both the Ostrich Farm and mythical creatures?
Since then I’m proud to say that I’ve wised up and also briefly befriended a girl with dwarfism during my first year of college. So. You know… progress or some shit.
My manager and assistant manager have been fighting for the past 4 months and things have never been going better for me at work.
I’m pretty sure my boss is trying to get me on her “side”, what with the drunken phone calls, punching me in several hours early and saying I can come in late.
Today I was suppose to be in at one. It’s 2:44! I’ve been punched in for over an hour, you guys! I’ve been punched in and I’m at home and I’m not even wearing pants.
I don’t have to go in until 5. This is the life?
oooooooo hottttttttttttttttttt.
91 degrees, I don’t even think this is the hottest it’s been this month. It feels more awful. My pink Irish skin is not made for this. I am so sick of getting freckles. My skin is going to look so godawful when I’m 30. EVERYTHING IS AWFUL.
Why is my five year old brother so much cooler than me?
This is last December. It puts all other Mall Santa photos to absolute shame.
For the past several weeks I’ve been trying to curb my swearing.
Result: hahahahahahahhahahaha.
Swearing is here to stay. Sometimes letting out a hearty “MOTHERFUCKER” feels too good, an orgasm from the vocal cords to the lips.
Basketball to the face.