Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.
(via seabois)
Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.
(via seabois)
Francis Alÿs
The Nightwatch
Surveillance cameras observe a fox exploring the Tudor and Georgian rooms of the National Portrait Gallery at night.
Lol this is funny
someone should write fic of this fox criticizing the art
minnie water you doing
how did he even get in?
(Source: accidentalformalist)
Okay, so he’s got a girly face, and he wears tights and some high boots. Sure.
But check out that noble steed. That’s one ready-to-kick-ass-and-take-names steed.
While other princesses just run away and leave nothing, Philip gets AN INVITE TO HER HOUSE. He gets a song, a dance, and a first date.
He comes home, just to tell his dad he’s not going to marry the princess because he’s in love.
No. Other. Reason. He rides in and is just like, “I met the girl I’m going to marry. Now I’ve got a birthday party to be at. Bye Dad.”
Now how much do you think his dad weighs? That short fat little man? Probably pretty heavy.Not a problem for Prince Philip.
And then he gets jumped by goblins, both hands tied behind his back.
But that’s not enough to stop Prince Philip.Oh no.
He breaks his hands free and starts chucking goblins.
Look at that face. That face. The “BITCH JUST YOU WAIT” face. He may be tied down by a dozen goblins but he’s not gonna take no shit from this witch.
In fact, he’s so strong, she ends up keeping him chained to the wall, but he still fights back.
Now look at this, right here.
He’s ready to go into battleUNARMED. He don’t need no shield or sword, he’s going to go punch Maleficent’s face in with his fist. If Flora didn’t stop him, he probably would have, too.
Backed up against a cliff edge, nowhere to go. Fighting off goblins. But there’s so many and just one Philip.
NBD I’LL JUST JUMP AND SLIDE DOWN THE ROCK PILE IN MY SKIN-TIGHT TIGHTS.
Gate closing?
who gives a fuck? certainly not prince philip.
Lighting hitting rocks around me?
NBD BRO
Giant forest of thorns?
Bitch, get out of my way. I’ve got a princess to save.
Giant dragon of hell?
CHARGE HEAD ON.
Fire? Dragon? Burning dry twigs? No. Fucking. Problem.
Just smack that bitch on the nose.
Sheer cliff face? Fire burning behind me? Back to a wall?
Calm down guys, I got this.
I’LL JUST FUCKING SCALE IT ONE-HANDED.
And fight the bloody beast from 500 feet high, with pretty much nothing to save me if I fall.
Lose the shield off the cliff?
JUST STAND THERE AND SMILE ‘CAUSE I’VE GOT A FUCKING MAGIC SWORD THAT’S GOING THROUGH YOUR HEART BITCH.
Just chuck it. Straight through.
Then jump out of the way…
And survive. That’s what happens to bitches who mess with my woman.
Get the horse.
Get the girl.
EXPLAIN NOTHING.
that’s how he EARNED his happily ever after.
Srsly. The most bad. ass. prince. disney ever wrote.
(via bunnybotbaby)
When I grow up I want to be dapper as fuck.
Bless this post.
(Source: nocturnecity, via earthbending)
^THIS! I may not be a Hufflepuff (Slytherin) but this is absolutely true!!
(Source: thesky-isfalling, via harrypotterconfessions)
The fuck? >:(
Did this dude just walk up to Kelly Rowland at a bar and force her into a conversation? What?!
I can’t watch this whole thing. I just… Can’t
Nope. Seeing the trailers for that movie made me ill. Can’t even bring myself to watch it.
I think these old ladies should by someone a copy of the Feminine Mystique for Christmas…
… there isn’t a big enough facepalm in the world for this
I believe in everything until it’s disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it’s in your mind. Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?
(via seabois)
(Source: homoerotic-confections, via twelvebats)
what a bad bitch :’)
one of my favourite human beings…there aren’t many..
Love me some Helena!
(via witchyways)

On May 10th, 1774, Louis XV died of smallpox at the palace of Versailles in France, leaving his grandson to reign as Louis XVI. He had become King at the age of five, and ruled for a total of 58 years, 251 days.
Happy death day Louis…
(via courtroyale)
Robe à l’Anglaise
Silk, British, 1770-1775
metropolitan museum
Unwed teen mom Bristol Palin gives Obama daughters a lesson in the sanctity of marriage
In this case, it would’ve been helpful for him to explain to Malia and Sasha that while her friends parents are no doubt lovely people, that’s not a reason to change thousands of years of thinking about marriage. Or that – as great as her friends may be – we know that in general kids do better growing up in a mother/father home. Ideally, fathers help shape their kids’ worldview.
In this situation, it was the other way around. I guess we can be glad that Malia and Sasha aren’t younger, or perhaps today’s press conference might have been about appointing Dora the Explorer as Attorney General because of her success in stopping Swiper the Fox.
Sometimes dads should lead their family in the right ways of thinking. In this case, it would’ve been nice if the President would’ve been an actual leader and helped shape their thoughts instead of merely reflecting what many teenagers think after one too many episodes of Glee.Oh my lord, this is TOO rich.
But yeah, most of the most vociferous opponents of gay marriage I know offline had babies at 15. And if that’s what you wanna do, then more power to you but honey, them glass houses…
Yes, Glee is a tool of the liberal media to indoctrinate us with the gay agenda.
She is just too much.
What the flying fuck…? Seriously?! I mean really?! I can’t even…!
(Source: soupsoup)
Women stick their necks out to say that something is fucked-up, hurtful, oppressive, scary: Misogynist. They do this knowing full well that there will be social consequences. Remarkably, we’re all familiar with the idea that the women who do this are bitches/ugly/humorless/scolds/delusional (“you see sexism everywhere”)/hysterical/oversensitive/insensitive/etc. We know that we take on most of the risk, in this conversation.
We know that we have to be very careful in terms of what we say, and to whom; that we will be expected to choose our targets and our words very carefully, seem “understanding,” seem “empathetic,” make all the right allowances, be oh so very polite. We labor over our words, swallow our anger, push through our fear (and most women who bring themselves to make these kinds of statements are very afraid of reprisal; we know it happens, in overt and subtle ways, pretty much every time), construct these carefully tortured and worked-out sentences; we work at this shit.And then, after all that work, some dude makes a joke about how we need some dick — not even a joke he’s had to work on, really; that line’s been around forever — and everybody laughs, and it’s over. We get no apology. We get no consideration. We get no hearing. We get nothing.
What this exchange ultimately proves to women, every time it’s played out, is that no matter how hard we work, we will never matter. We will never be heard. It’s just the same fucking thing, every day, like a punch to the gut: You think you can change shit? You think I care how you feel? You think I care what you think? No. Never. You think it fucking matters that you don’t like what I do to you? It doesn’t. I’m gonna fucking do what I want to you. Sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and take it. Or else I’m gonna tell everyone what a bitch you are, that you won’t play my game. My very special game, that I designed. And here are the rules for the game:
You Lose.
(Source: sadydoyle, via twelvebats)