how does one tell a boy that one likes him
I am a boy and have a foolproof plan for this:
- text them and start playing one of those 20q games
- if they start being a dodgy fella drop em
- if they ask “You like anyone?”
reply Yeah, you.- If they give you a negative reply sayin they dont like you back then just correct yourself to “*Yeah, you?”
dude that is genius
slow clappin’ it out.
juin 2013
*forgets what im talking about halfway through a sentence*
- Me: Shit, I don't remember my password on this one...
- Chrome: You mean, this one :) ?
- Me: Bless you!
People who leave a voice mail without saying if they expect you to call them back, text them, wait for them to call you again or if they just wanted to leave a message to look cool…
“Your life is not an episode of Skins. Things will never look quite as good as they do in a faded, sun-drenched Polaroid; your days are not an editorial from Lula. Your life is not a Sofia Coppola movie, or a Chuck Palahniuk novel, or a Charles Bukowski poem. Grace Coddington isn’t your creative director. Bon Iver and Joy Division don’t play softly in the background at appropriate moments. Your hysterical teenage diary isn’t a work of art. Your room probably isn’t Selby material. Your life isn’t a Tumblr screencap. Every word that comes out of your mouth will not be beautiful and poignant, infinitely quotable. Your pain will not be pretty. Crying till you vomit is always shit. You cannot romanticize hurt. Or sadness. Or loneliness. You will have homework, and hangovers and bad hair days. The train being late won’t lead to any fateful encounters, it will make you late. Sometimes your work will suck. Sometimes you will suck. Far too often, everything will suck - and not in a Wes Anderson kind of way. And there is no divine consolation - only the knowledge that we will hopefully experience the full spectrum - and that sometimes, just sometimes, life will feel like a Coppola film.”
—Letters From Nowhere (via annieodair)
no but women are so badass okay
because there will inevitably come a point in every woman’s life where she wakes up in a pool of her own blood and her reaction will be dammit now i have to do laundry
that is some suave superhero shit and you won’t ever be able to convince me otherwise
“The reading of all good books is like a conversation with the finest minds of past centuries.”
—René Descartes (via velvetlusia)
if i was in a fictional universe i wouldn’t be the main character i’d probably be that friend of the main character who lacks supernatural powers or special abilities but makes up for it with sarcasm and really lame one-liners
