Break the Monotony



‘arent we supposed to have antlers or something’
‘fuck if i know’

'who cares we're mad cute'



‘arent we supposed to have antlers or something’

‘fuck if i know’

'who cares we're mad cute'

(Source: 4rtmusic, via the4elemelons)


My dad and I went to a golf thingy yesterday. This is what he did the entire time. i-think-we-should-disagree I cried actual tears of laughter

(via everywheremuggles)

1. high school will drain you. it’s panic attacks in the hallway and crying in the bathroom and eating lunch in the back of the library because the cafeteria makes your heart beat too fast. It’s getting high and throwing up. you will learn a lot about death and how to treat your cuts. You will also learn what it’s like to get drunk and laugh at the stars and how to write poetry that makes the world hurt less. You will read books that you fall in love with. you will fall in love. you’ll get closer to your mother because you’ll need someone to help you with your math homework and teach you how to put on your makeup and wipe away your tears.

2. the first boy you fall in love will break you. he’ll tell you he loves you and convince you to fuck him in the back of his parents beat up volvo and then he’ll tell all his friends what you taste like and stop calling you before you fall asleep. delete his number and throw away the stuffed bear he won you at the carnival three weeks before. your carpet will be stained with tears and vomit and liquor and you’ll fight with you dad a lot more than usual. you’ll spit up pieces of your heart for weeks. you’ll burn alive when you see him in the halls. you won’t always feel like you’re cracking and a few months later you’ll be falling asleep on the phone with someone else. let it hurt for a little while but don’t let it kill you. never let it kill you.

3. the girl you’ve been best friends with for 9 years will stop speaking to you. one night you’ll make plans with her and she’ll cancel at the last minute because she’s sick but you’ll see her updating her snapchat story with pictures of empty alcohol bottles and blurry eyes and the mean girls who never let you sit with them. try to forgive her. she’s going through all the bloody, broken teeth, black and blue filled nights like you are. everyone’s trying to survive so don’t be too hard on anyone. especially yourself.

4. your teacher will ask the class questions and you’ll know the answers but you’ll keep your shaky hand between your knees and keep your tongue glued to the top of your mouth. don’t bother. speak out. nothing bad will happen. so when your biology teachers calls on you to tell him about last nights assignment, don’t stare at the spinning ground and mumble through numb lips. you’re smarter than you think and nobody is looking at you anyway.

5. you’re not his baby girl. when he tries to kiss your neck and pull you onto his lap, get up and leave. you don’t have to go upstairs with him. you don’t have to sleep with him because he’s begging. it’s not your job to fuck around with boys who can’t remember your name. take care of yourself even when he’s calling you a tease and whispering just loud enough for you to hear.

6. go out. go to football games and sit on hard metal bleachers for hours and take shots that taste like bleach and hold hands with the cute boy from english class. go to that dumb party and don’t complain or stand in the corner. things are always moving. people are always falling in love and laughing and putting themselves back together. be part of it.

7. ask for help. you don’t have to let yourself rot. when you don’t know how to do something in math class ask your teacher to explain. when your heart falls out of your chest and shatters at your feet, ask your best friend to come over and watch bad movies with you until you both feel less dead. when the boy you’re convinced you love kisses someone else, ask your mother to help stop the bleeding. you’re not alone so stop acting like it. no more breakdowns at three in the morning locked in the bathroom screaming. your older sister is still awake. crawl into bed with her.

8. it all ends. high school doesn’t last forever and 6 years from now you’ll be whole again. you won’t remember the names of the boys who made you cry or the girls who fucked you over. you won’t remember the names of the teachers who made your cheeks turn red and tied your stomach in knots. you won’t remember the time you fell down the stairs in front of everyone. you won’t remember what it’s like to want to die. try to remember the times you laughed so hard you spit out your drink. try to remember the people who helped put you back together. try to remember the people who bled with you when things got messy, when they call you at 3 in the morning to ask how you’ve been, answer the phone.

9. don’t forget to breathe.

—   9 things to remember when you are 14  (via extrasad)

(via achingminds)

College Students Create Nail Polish That Changes Colors When Exposed To Date Rape Drugs

This is so cool.





whenever im sad i just think about how the welsh word for microwave is popty ping

that.. that helps.

Per tag-based request from the wonderful sabaceanbabe, this is true.  It means the pinging oven. Actually, technically, it means the pinging bakehouse.  We just put the sound “ping” at the end of a word for oven.  That’s all we did.  

The “pop” part is purely coincidental in its amusing implications in English, but believe me, no one here thinks it’s any less hysterical.  We all say “meicrodon,” which is a transliteration of “microwave” because it’s a microwave.  But officially, our official linguistic overlords have decreed, it’s a pinging fucking bakehouse.  

(And don’t even get me started on the official translation for “deadline”, where instead of the eminently sensible “time limit” we instead say, THE LINE OF DEATH.  No really, I work in a welsh language office.  This comes up fairly regularly.  As do arguments about whose turn it is to clean the pinging bakehouse.)

I know so many Welsh-speakers who get so angry about popty ping, though, precisely because no one actually uses it and then xenophobes use this ‘fact’ to mock Welsh and make out that it’s a stupid language. Like, I have literally never heard a single person legitimately use ‘popty ping’. We really do just use ‘meicrodon’ (which is a translation, not a transliteration - that’s just my pedantry, though, do ignore me everyone.)

I believe Mared has made it her life goal to learn how to crawl out of microwaves like the woman from The Ring and murder anyone who tries to spread the popty ping thing, in fact. And anyway, meicrodon sounds like a digital dinosaur. Much better.

Just in case I have saddened anyone by taking popty ping away, though, here is a list of marvellous Welsh idioms or names for things to make up for it:

Butterfly (formal): iar bach yr haf (little chicken of the summer)

Ladybird: buwch goch gota (brief red cow)

Dragonfly: gwas y neidr (the servant of the snake)

By himself: ar ei ben ei hun (on his own head)

Greedy: mor wancus â’r wenci (as greedy as a stoat; this one sounds like you’re saying ‘wank’ twice, though, so has extra joy)

Raining cats and dogs: bwrw hen wragedd a ffyn (raining old ladies and sticks)

To stay the weekend: bwrw Sul (to hit Sunday)

(via solongasitswords)


What fucks me up about the Darren Wilson fundraiser is that he hasn’t been charged with a crime. He doesn’t have to hire a lawyer. He’s on paid leave, so he’s not losing wages. This is not covering his expenses, because he doesn’t have any additional expenses. This is a reward. He’s getting a $250,000 reward for murdering an unarmed black kid, two days away from starting college, in broad daylight.

(via blopt)

“You realize that everything the police are doing in Ferguson is carefully calculated, right? They’re purposely turning peaceful protests into riots. They’re purposely committing violence to incite violence. From saying ‘We won’t be answering 911 calls,’ which is a very clever way to set themselves up to be able to say, ‘We were afraid for our safety - any call could really be an ambush, our lives were in danger’ right down to the camouflage and the military tanks and wearing more body armor than a soldier in a war zone. Its exactly why they’re going for a media blackout - yet allowing certain photos through - they WANT you to see their tanks. They want you to see their riot gear. They WANT you to see a war-zone. They’re trying to sell the world the idea that this community is inherently and constantly a source of violence and turmoil - they want you to think that they [the police] are being attacked daily in a place so vicious they need full body armor. You know why? Because then, at the end of the day, you might just be able to believe the story they’re going to spin. They’re going to tell you that this (white) officer goes to work in this war zone every day - that he spends every working moment in constant fear for his life. They’re going to tell you that Michael Brown attacked this officer. And then they’re going to bring up everything that has happened in the aftermath and try to use it to convince you that he shot that little boy because he was afraid for his life. They’re setting up a defense. You mark my words, they’re trying to set up a defense.”


My mom’s take on what’s going on in Ferguson (via actualbanshee)

Your mom isn’t wrong. That’s why it’s so important to keep the signal going. Too many are silenced with lies and fear and if they cannot speak then we have to do it for them.

(via auntpol)

(via achingminds)

“Your heart literally hurts when it’s breaking. You can feel it, every beat another ache, and nothing you can do will stop it, either from beating or breaking.”

—   Alison McGhee, All Rivers Flow To The Sea (via larmoyante)

(via 2amconversations)