i-am-superjohnlocked:

allthingshyper:

the-cunning-fire:

This is just so pleasing to watch. 

THE WITCHCRAFT i COULD DO WITH THIS CANDLE

two types of people
missrevived:

onlyblackgirl:

postracialcomments:

quietlyexhale:

nishnasty:

#Repost from @junglebarbiejulia FULL STORY. On the night of August 10 2013 I went to DC for my birthday to go to “Park Place”, an upscale restaurant. Upon my arrival at the entrance, at 11:30pm, before going to stand in the very long line I went to ask a patrolling officer where a nearby restroom was and before I could utter the words, I was met with an elbow and a right punch to my face. I was instantly knock out. My police report (which has changed numerous times this year) say I was arrest and processed at 1:50 am which is 2 hours that I was unaccounted for. I was left on the floor and when I woke up I was bleeding in multiple places with drag marks on my toes, my wrist were cut by the cuffs, the back of my head and arms were lumpy. The officers wouldn’t tell me why I was in jail and I overheard them saying what should we charge her with? We can’t say domestic, we don’t know who she is with. After pleading and begging to go to the hospital, I was met with more hostility before they finally let me go to the hospital the next days upon my release I had a rape kit done because I don’t know any thing that happened to me while knocked out and it came back positive for semen. They sent messages from my phone while I was detained. Internal Affairs came and confiscated my clothing (they never returned them) and they stole my rape kit. As of today I am facing charges for fighting a bouncer outside of the Lima Club, I was never there and its 5 minutes away from Park driving, also 5 officers that responded after I punched the manager to I was apparently Mike Tyson because when I woke up in jail I had the strength and gumption to fight some more officers in there. When the video was requested both clubs said they lost them. They follow me and stalk my home to this day, I have caught DC police trying to get in my home when they thought I had left, even the Baltimore cops help protect them, one in the rape department even asked me out on a date while my face was still battered. I have been trying to tell my story on IG only to find that police officers or this hired by then have been spamming my hashtag #justiceforjulia with blasphemous pictures. Please share her story.

postracialcomments

BOOST!!!!!
This is the video from the stills posted!!!
https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=679216132168166&set=vb.159600104129774&type=2&theater

Spread this around!!!

What the fuck.

Hold on!I know her!Julia! Wtf??

saitom

pentapan: I must ask, if I may! How was the transition from Germany to the states?

Well, I went to school in an American community while living in Germany so I was already used to the people, the environment was the tricky part. I definitely experience a culture shock. I felt as if I had much more freedom while living in Germany. I had grown accustomed to how safe it was. When I was in the fourth grade and going to a German school I would take the train by myself everyday to school, and even as I got older I would take public transportation to go hang out with my friends or go downtown in the evening and come home late at night. In the States I would NEVER do that, at least not by myself. Another thing I miss is the people, Germans were so friendly and when I was out and about in town they would talk to you and whenever you entered a room they always say “good day.” It’s also a cleaner country and it had many farms and forests to go hiking in. As you can probably tell I miss it a lot, not to say there’s anything wrong with living in the US. It’s just a lot different. I’ve had a couple of years to get used to it though.

sorry this reply was so long, but thank you for asking!


anchor-in-my-wanker:

decepticun:

Cold inside, frozen lake | by Carola Photography

Nature Shit ☠

agirlcalledfrost: OH OH OH PLEASE TELL US A BOARDING SCHOOL STORY PRETTY PLEASE

howlinskis:

ofgeography:

so my school had this thing called “senior skip day,” except that senior skip day didn’t exist and every year the administration sent out emails in the spring that were like DON’T FUCKIN SKIP CLASS OR YOU WILL RECEIVE RESTRICTION (restriction was like, my boarding school’s equivalent of detention where instead of staying after school you had to go to bed early and help stuff envelopes advertising the summer program until your hands were BLOODIED AND CRIPPLED BY CARPAL TUNNEL) and every year the seniors were like YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!

  • spoiler alert: yes they can? THEY ALWAYS CAN.
  • 200 years of american high school and teenagers still think that there is a cap limit on kids in detention and that you can leave after 15 minutes if the teacher doesn’t show up.

anyway, my senior year, we all got together and nattered at each other until some brave soldier (i feel like it was my friend paula but WHO KNOWS) was like “OK SENIOR SKIP DAY IS THIS THURSDAY!!!! NOBODY GO TO CLASS OR UR A SCAB.”

  • she didn’t say scab because she’s not from the 1920s and we aren’t newsies, though this story would be way more interesting if we were
  • what she said was “YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!”
  • except not yolo because it was 2009 and drake hadn’t been invented yet except as a dear sweet boy in a wheelchair.

we also used this email system to communicate with one another that has very deeply informed the way i understand email and which probably makes it very frustrating to be my friend and receive emails that have subject lines like “URGENT” and then just 42 links to the same florida georgia line youtube video.

  • I’M NOT ASHAMED, but in that way where like i kind of AM ashamed so i’m really aggressively NOT ashamed? 

so the day of reckoning rolls around and my alarm goes off at 8 (class started at 8:05 but i liked to PLAY WITH FIRE when it came to being late; my mom actually asked the school to stop emailing her when i was a sophomore because i was late so often that their rote “Mrs. Ofgeography we are emailing you to say—” was CLOGGING UP HER INBOX and she was like “i GET IT MY CHILD IS THE MOST BORING MISCREANT OF ALL TIME.”) and i looked at my roommate elle and she looked at me and went, “you going?”

"hell no," i said. "YOLO. they can’t punish all of us."

elle, who was far prettier and far cooler than i was with the notable exception of her obsession with tswift’s “love story” and her tendency to look at the endangered species list and cry sometimes during study hall, quickly bizounced across the street to this shopping center thing where all the cool kids smoked in secret where huge trucks dropped off clothes for the Dress Barn. i think there were also tennis courts nearby. more importantly there was this chinese food delivery place and a lil restaurant that made HELLA BAGELS.

  • WHAT KIND OF BAGELS?
  • FUCKIN
  • HELLA.

off goes elle! meanwhile i’m like, “yessssss i’m gonna use senior skip day to watch 14 hours of tv shows and eat frozen peanut butter bars that i stole from the dining hall! I’M GONNA LIVE LIKE I’M 23 ALONE IN CHICAGO ON A WEEKEND WHEN MY ONLY PLAN IS TAKEOUT AND CUDDLING WITH THE FAUX-SNOW-LEOPARD BLANKET I WILL ONE DAY SURELY OWN.” 

of course, during this time the administration was continuing to send out emails that reminded us with increasing urgency that senior skip day was NOT A THING and that we were ALL GETTING RESTRICTION if we didn’t get our STUPID ASSES TO CLASS, GODDAMNIT, WE ARE NOT RUNNING A CIRCUS HERE. 

but i was like! yolo, motherfuckers!!! i already got into college, YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME.

at some point during the day elle and our friend ginna came back to the room with takeout from the chinese delivery place and we sat on our floor eating it and probably watching veronica mars or looking at the endangered species list and crying.

all of a sudden, elle said, “guys shut up, guys shut up, GUYS SHUT UP,” and ginna and i were like, “WHAT we have a LOT to SAY about FRIED FUCKING DUMPLINGS, ELLE," and elle said, "did you hear that?"

"hear what?"

that!”

'that' was the sound of one of our dorm moms, mrs. f, knocking on doors and saying things like, “IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR BUTTS TO CLASS IN 5 MINUTES YOU'RE ON CATEGORY 4 RESTRICTION FOREVER.” elle quickly scampered up our raised beds to hide in the corner, where a tiny human like elle could actually hide from view; i leapt immediately into what we called a closet but was basically a cubby with a flap that was DEFINITELY not meant for a 5'8” individual with knobby as hell knees.

our door, which was never locked because we both hated the effort of typing in the lock code, opened. mrs. f said, “mollyhall?”

i held my breath. 

  • i should add here that i seemed to be operating on like a scooby-doo level of logic where basically i thought that she was somehow NOT ALLOWED to investigate?
  • like, if she can’t see me, there is NO POSSIBLE WAY that she could prove i’m in here, right?
  • she’ll just poke her head in and be like oH GOSH NO KIDS HERE and leave!!

you can see the flaw in my logic.

mrs. f sighed. “mollyhall, i know you’re in here, i literally heard your voice ten seconds ago.”

  • there’s no WAY she guesses i’m in the closet!!!

"mollyhall, i know you’re in the closet."

  • NO YOU DON’T
  • I AM SCHRÖDINGER’S SENIOR

"mollyhall—"

there was a creak. mrs. f stopped. it wasn’t actually a “creak,” so much as this like, prolonged groan? like it’s the sound an elephant would make if it sat on a really large accordion.

i poked my head out of the closet. mrs. f looked at me. elle sat up.

i said, “where’s ginna?”

  • YOU KNOW WHERE GINNA WAS.

"um," said elle, "she’s in the—"

  • GINNA NO

ginna yes.

i really wish i could describe the sound the ceiling made when it collapsed. it sounded a lot like the way losing your breath feels. i sort of remember ginna falling in like, really slow motion, like i could see the expression on her face. i didn’t really think about how i would describe this in words. ginna’s face said:

  • oh no.
  • what have i done?
  • this was a mistake. 
  • i regret a series of decisions that i have made.
  • is there a way out of this?
  • are those oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • why are there oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
  • mollyhall, you HAVE a food cupboard, what good is a food cupboard if you don’t—
  • oh, crap.

she belly flopped onto the floor. i mean, the girl bounced. and then she just laid there. mrs. f looked at her. elle looked at her. i looked at her, still mostly in the closet. we were all going to get category 4 restriction forever.

ginna said, “hi, mrs. f. i feel like i should explain.”

an explanation as to how ginna got in the ceiling


pooka-saurus:

shining-vagina:

carlyjespen:

why can’t plane tickets be like 10 dollars

why can’t concert tickets be like 10 dollars

why can’t everything be like 10 dollars

I’m not paying 10 dollars for a candy bar fuck you

(Source: superhighschoollevelhope-archive, via pentapan)