Bringing this back
this is perfection.
we could hang Anne Hathaway up right now and she could be a disco ball in that dress
an incredibly attractive disco ball
make all the boy disco balls go
How many puns did you count?
"My Drunk Kitchen: A Guide to Eating, Drinking, and Going with Your Gut" http://bit.ly/1aSIzor
Did you like???
If this helps one person I will be so, so pleased.
Please reblog for your followers, you don’t know who needs help :)
I hope this helps and be sure to follow for advice, relatable posts, submitting your own anxiety truth or just realising you’re not so alone:
Anonymous asked: i can't decide whether i wanna be grace or be on top of grace
Be whatever you wanna be anon
You look pretty content either way
SPREAD THE DAMN WORD
THAT WAS COOL
My hands are too small to do this effectively.
I wish I wasn’t iPod
if you’re on ipod you just hold down the reblog button
wtf just happened??
Does anybody else get really excited when they see another gay person in a normal place? Like I was in the grocery store today and saw this cute lesbian and I’m just like running back and forth with my cart in front of the produce like HEY LOOK AT ME I’M GAY TOO LOOK AT US BEING QUEER IN THE SUPERMARKET LETS BE FRIENDS.
Gay people literally act like dogs when they see other dogs.
Most importantly: you’re stronger than you think.
WHY DOES THIS NOT HAVE MORE NOTES
*prepares party popper*
*nervously shakes the party popper*
*slowly falls asleep with the party popper*
*has a wonderful night with the party popper*
*gets married to the party popper*
It’s a beautiful evening in February. My wife and I are sitting at the fireplace, when suddenly a terrible image appears on the screen of my computer.
My wife looks at me. As I look in her terrified, cardboard eyes, filled with tears, she takes a deep breath, before saying with her shivering voice “It’s what you’ve always wanted, dear. Do it.” My hands start shaking and a lone tear rolls down my cheek. “I can’t, honey. I’m not like that anymore.” “I will do it.” a small voice behind us says. As I turn around, my eyes cross with my son; our son. “You don’t have to do this, Benedict.” I say, as I hold his hands.
Ignoring what I told him, young Benedict Popper-Are Optional holds my wife’s cardboard body in one hand, and her long, beautiful string in the other. With tears in my eyes, I turn my head away. A loud pop sounds behind me and I watch in terror as I see my wife’s confetti spread across the room.
"It’s what you’ve always wanted, dad…" my son says, putting his small, cardboard hand on my shoulder. "Yes," I say, "but not like this… Never like this…"
what the actual fuck
Page 1 of 9