reasonsmysoniscrying:

It’s morning.

Same, kiddo. Same.

reasonsmysoniscrying:

It’s morning.

Same, kiddo. Same.

joysweeper:

coelasquid:

Birds reacting to dubstep is my new favourite internet thing.

Okay that’s kind of wonderful.

Dubstep bird oh my god

Oh hey tiny Kate

(Source: youtu.be)

livelymorgue:

From the Mid-Week Pictorial, Feb. 20, 1930: Sgt. Frank York — cousin of Alvin C. York, the famous former doughboy — in a “hazardous human hurdle” to demonstrate his confidence in his mount, Apple Jack. Photo: The New York Times

Seems ill-advised…

How I Unfuck My Mornings

I’m back at work after maternity leave and my schedule is changing significantly. The baby is home with dad for a month, then I’ll have to pick her up from day care by 6PM every day. To make that deadline with 8 hours of work + commuting and pumping I will have to leave the house at 6:30AM. Right now my morning routine takes 1.5 hours (pumping, packing up, getting dressed, etc). Hopefully I’ll get faster at it as time goes on. Until that happens I can’t waste any time so I have to be really diligent about unfucking my mornings! Here’s how:

Read More

“Samuel L. Jackson seriously wants to be in the new Star Wars movies. He doesn’t care how it happens, he doesn’t care how many arms he has or how dead he is, or if he has to somehow do this as Nick Fury instead of Mace Windu.”

Is there anyone among us who doesn’t think Star Wars could use a little Nick Fury? (Source)

…it’s a universe with a well-established history of just cloning the shit out of people at the slightest excuse. Samuel L. Jackson could theoretically play every role in the next movie without it being that implausible, by Star Wars standards.

(via stuckinabucket)

Holy shit I would pay twice the going rate for a movie ticket to see a film performed entirely by Samuel L. Jackson. I don’t even care what film. Star Wars, Pride & Prejudice, Sherlock Holmes, The Godfather…Any. Movie.

(via copperbadge)

“From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and fucking conceit made me realize that you were the last motherfucker in the world I could ever be fucking prevailed upon to marry.”

(via hippity-hoppity-brigade)

It is a truth fucking universally acknowledged that a single motherfucker in possession of a giant motherfucking fortune must be in want of a goddamn wife.

(via knottahooker)

“The fucking recollection of what I said—of my fucking conduct, my fucking manners, my motherfucking expressions during it, is now, and has been many fucking months, goddamned painful to me.  Your reproof, I shall never fucking forget: ‘had you behaved like less of a motherfucker.’ Those were your goddamned words.  You know not, you can scarcely fucking conceive, how they have tortured me.”

(via stuckinabucket)

“Really, Watson, you fucking excel yourself,” said Holmes, pushing back his chair and lighting a cigarette. “I am bound to say that in all the fucking accounts which you have been so good as to give of my own small achievements you have fucking habitually underrated your own motherfucking abilities. It may be that you are not yourself fucking luminous, but you are a motherfucking conductor of light. Some people without possessing genius have a fucking remarkable power of stimulating it. I confess, my dear fellow, that I am very much in your fucking debt.”

(via knottahooker)

Motherfucker, mama always said life was like a box of fucking chocolates. You never fucking know what you’re gonna get.

(via asgardian-feminist)

To fuck up a motherfucker or to not fuck up a motherfucker, that is the question.

(via getdowngetfunky)

Guys this is the kind of thinking that got Snakes On A Plane made

(via xtremecaffeine)

But soft! What fucking light through yon motherfucking window breaks! It is the fucking east, and that motherfucker Juliette is the fucking sun

(via knottahooker)

“Harry, you’re a mothafuckin wizard.”
“Say what?”
“Bitch, did I stutter?”

(via ididthatonce)

“A little motherfucking sea-bathing would set me up for fucking ever.”

(via baileyeverywhere)

“About three goddamn things I was absolfuckinglutely postive. First, Edward was a motherfucking vampire. Second, there was a part of his sparkly blood drinking ass — and shit if I know how strong that part of the cold bastard might be — that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was fucking unconditionally, irrefuckinvocably, in motherfucking love with the pale ass blood drinking motherfucker. “

(via duelist925)

We want the finest motherfuckin’ cakes known to humanity. We want them fuckers here and we want them fuckers now!

(via wellharkather)

“One day, and that fuckin’ day may never come, I may call upon your bitch ass to do me a motherfuckin’ favor.  But for now, consider this a fuckin’ piece of generosity on the day of my daughter’s fuckin’ wedding.”

(via endlesskng)

“You cannot fucking stain a motherfucking black coat.”

(via maddy44)

“And none for Gretchen motherfucking Weiners, bye.”

(via jujuberry136)

“My good fucking opinion, once lost, is lost forever, motherfucker.”

(via misamdry)

We must be as swift as the fucking cold river, with all the force of the badass typhoon, screw shit up like the goddamn fire, mysterious as the mutherfucking dark side of the motherfucking moon.

(via nethenclawpuff)

“I’M FLYING MOTHERFUCKERS!”

(via loracarol)

The wand chooses the god damn wizard motherfucker!

(via queenofthedicks)

Mr. Kane was a man who got everything he wanted and then lost it. Maybe Motherfucker was something he couldn’t get, or something he lost. Anyway, it wouldn’t have explained anything; I don’t think any word can explain a man’s life. No, I guess Motherfucker is just a… piece in a jigsaw puzzle… a missing piece.”

(via saunteringvaguelydownwards)

“With great motherfucking power comes great motherfucking responsibility.”

(via stuckinabucket)

“I will take the motherfucking ring to fucking Mordor.” [pause] “Though I do not know the motherfucking way.”

(via lord-kitschener)

“I’m the mother fucking Doctor, bitch! I’m worse than everybody’s fucking aunt!”

(via putthecheeseinthemac)

“Pay no fucking attention to that motherfucker behind the curtain.”

(via breelandwalker)

One ring to rule those bitchasses, one ring to goddamn find them, one ring to bring all those motherfuckers and in darkness bind them.

(via thebatsknees)

“I’m gonna fucking steal the Declaration of Motherfucking Independence.”

(via eternal8song)

“Your ass shouldn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, motherfucker.”

“Lemme tell you a riddle. Your ass is waitin for a train, a train that will take your ass far away.  You know where you hope this motherfuckin train will take you, but you don’t motherfuckin know for goddamn sure. But it doesn’t motherfuckin matter. How the fuck can it not matter to you where the fuck this train takes your ass?”

(via hellyeahangels)

Fuckers assume that time is a fucking strict progression of motherfucking cause to motherfucking effect. But actually from a goddamned non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint it’s more like a big motherfucking ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey…goddamned stuff.

(via dramageekforthewin)

Toto, I’ve got a goddamn feeling we ain’t in motherfucking Kansas no more.

(via total-screaming-genius)

One morning I shot a motherfucking elephant in my fucking pajamas.  How the fuck it got there, I don’t motherfucking know.

(via underscorethony)

Guys Star wars happens “A long long time ago, In a galaxy Far Far away” Fury hasn’t been born yet in them.

(via jimbly)

Only if you assume that George Lucas was making a documentary. Otherwise for all we know the actual intended audience of the piece was Jack Harkness sitting around on Boeshane in the year 5122.

Also this seems to indicate a despicable lack of faith in the time travel abilities of Nick Fury.

Or that you think our current Nick Fury is not himself potentially a clone of the Furies that existed a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

(via copperbadge)

…and now I am picturing Samuel L. Jackson as all three Greek Furies.

“We’re here for vengeance, motherfuckers!”

(via persian-slipper)

Either way, you’ll be receiving a visit from Director Fury shortly. I strongly suggest you have an explanation prepared.

(via copperbadge)

“The fuck is your problem, Danny? You never take a motherfucking shortcut before?”

(via annlarimer)

“I want my motherfucking two dollars!”

(via amyamychan)

Pride & Fucking Prejudice killed me.

ungrammaticality:

erin-barren:

imperius-rex:

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHY DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS CAT BEFORE
HER NAME IS TAMAAND SHE’S THE STATIONMASTER AT A TRAIN STATION IN JAPANSHE GREETS ALL THE PASSENGERSAND SHE HAS HER OWN OFFICEAND SHE’S PAID IN CAT FOODAND SHE IS A FUCKING EXECUTIVE OF A FUCKING RAILROAD STATION 
AND LOOK AT HER


the trains are decorated with cartoon versions of her since she’s their mascot as well


Such a good cat


Time for Loki to get a job! Skills include being a dick, jumping out from the shadows, and eating grass so he can throw it back up.

ungrammaticality:

erin-barren:

imperius-rex:

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHY DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS CAT BEFORE

HER NAME IS TAMA
AND SHE’S THE STATIONMASTER AT A TRAIN STATION IN JAPAN
SHE GREETS ALL THE PASSENGERS
AND SHE HAS HER OWN OFFICE
AND SHE’S PAID IN CAT FOOD
AND SHE IS A FUCKING EXECUTIVE OF A FUCKING RAILROAD STATION

AND LOOK AT HER

the trains are decorated with cartoon versions of her since she’s their mascot as well

Such a good cat

Time for Loki to get a job!

Skills include being a dick, jumping out from the shadows, and eating grass so he can throw it back up.

(Source: emilyjanepitchiner)

“Anything that close to being human but not, here’s the thing: they’re either not trying hard enough, or they’re planning something.”
Karli “Danger” Wade, on the subject of monkeys (via brofisting)

OBVIOUSLY THE LATTER

dorothy-snarker:

Four for four. All for love. Congratulations, America. Let’s go get married.

Four for you, gay marriage. You go, gay marriage!

roachpatrol:

avatarjk137:

nooby-banana:

thesanityclause:

rinnysega:

vashappeninstyles:

the19thhistory:

areyoutryingtodeduceme:

I remember my first eagle ceremony when I turned nine. The first eagle you get is always declawed, which I always thought was pretty inhumane, but it was a good way to ease into caring for the birds. My eagle (named Baldy, because I wasn’t a terribly clever child) was already quite old when I received him (he was a rescue eagle, luckily) but I did have him until I was 16. I don’t know if I was more excited about getting my drivers license that year, or my new eagle! You should have seen the party we had when I got him, too! Grilled hot dogs and fire works and lemonade…. obviously I named my beautiful new eagle Freedom. He’s too big to keep inside anymore, unfortunately, but we’ve got a pretty comfortable roost for him on our apartment’s balcony.

Ah, yes, the eagle ceremony! My Justice and I remember his quite well. (They had just come out with telepathic link transplants when I got him, which is how I know he remembers it.) Our celebration was quite modest, compared to Freedom’s—apple pie under a cloudless summer sky as we signed our Declaration of Interdependence. I still have the inked and talon-pierced document hanging on my wall.

what is this 

Get out Canada

I was so scared during my pet eagle ceremony I almost threw up. But Stonewall Jackson and I have been best friends ever since. My dad and grandfather built a really massive roost behind the house for my eagle and my sisters’ eagles. Stonewall always waits for me when I get home from class since schools are getting so over protective and strict these days and won’t allow eagles indoors. Which just goes to show how much we’re bubble wrapping kids today. Back in the day, if you couldn’t handle a few stitches because you pissed off the wrong kid’s eagle, you had to just man up and learn your lesson!

Ooo, I never miss a chance to tell this story! I had a rather unusual first eagle ceremony. The traditional giant American flag that you wave around to summon your eagle had been severely damaged the week prior (a ceremony that had not gone according to plan, but the child only suffered minor talon wounds. The flag took the brunt of the attack).  Anyway, I couldn’t use the normal flag so we had to search ALL OVER for one suitable for eagle summoning. Unfortunately the stripes weren’t the correct shade of patriotic red so everyone was worried an eagle wouldn’t show up at all.  I had to stand in the middle of that wheat field, the wind creating amber waves out of it, shaking that flag in the air for over three hours.  Everyone was just about to give up when suddenly Patriot appeared out of nowhere!  He came to me so quickly it was like he was apologizing for being late.  And we’ve been together ever since.

Some people think it’s excessive to have two eagles.  But what can I say, I’m a two eagles kind of guy.  Well, I can say, “You must be a terrorist to call me out over my excesses,” but I digress.  We don’t have many open fields around here, so I got Liberty by waving my flag atop a decommissioned WWII aircraft carrier.  I was kicking a couple of boxes of tea into the harbor for good measure, and there she was.  I loved her so much I repeated the process a year later and got young Colbert here.  It’s hard work, raising two eagles, but I have two shoulders, after all.  Besides, I know that the secret to happy and healthy eagles is plenty of Bud Light.

Oh man, the eagle ceremony. I was a weird fucking kid, okay, so I was totally sure that the eagle ceremony wasn’t just going to net me my eagle and deepen the mystical bond between a citizen and their country, I thought I was going to get to turn into an eagle too. So me and my mom and my dad and my little brother are all standing in the old civil war battleground, surrounded by the ghosts of our fallen soldiers, and all and the problem here — it’s not usually a problem because I make sure to shave my beard off twice a day, three times on sundays — was that I am, actually, born on the fourth of July. So it wasn’t just one eagle that showed up, it was pretty much every big old patriotic warbird in Missouri, all flapping around confused and pissed off, their innate senses of direction completely fucked up by the way firecracker babies warp America’s natural system of ley lines. And I was six, so grabbed the flag and ran with it over my shoulders, rippling in the wind, thinking it was going to turn into wings for me and I would go be an eagle with all the other eagles. Instead I just got mobbed by a freaked-out mess of nationalistic avians who all weighed more than I did. I lost half my nose and my whole left arm and spent most of fourth grade in reconstructive surgery getting machine guns welded on to the shattered remains of my ulna. Completely missed my little brother’s eagle ceremony, which I will always regret, but it was all worth it to have met Columbia. I never did turn into an eagle on the outside, but I like to think those long hours in the hospital, feeding her rubbing alcohol and my own blood, have made me an eagle in my heart. 

roachpatrol:

avatarjk137:

nooby-banana:

thesanityclause:

rinnysega:

vashappeninstyles:

the19thhistory:

areyoutryingtodeduceme:

I remember my first eagle ceremony when I turned nine. The first eagle you get is always declawed, which I always thought was pretty inhumane, but it was a good way to ease into caring for the birds. My eagle (named Baldy, because I wasn’t a terribly clever child) was already quite old when I received him (he was a rescue eagle, luckily) but I did have him until I was 16. I don’t know if I was more excited about getting my drivers license that year, or my new eagle! You should have seen the party we had when I got him, too! Grilled hot dogs and fire works and lemonade…. obviously I named my beautiful new eagle Freedom. He’s too big to keep inside anymore, unfortunately, but we’ve got a pretty comfortable roost for him on our apartment’s balcony.

Ah, yes, the eagle ceremony! My Justice and I remember his quite well. (They had just come out with telepathic link transplants when I got him, which is how I know he remembers it.) Our celebration was quite modest, compared to Freedom’s—apple pie under a cloudless summer sky as we signed our Declaration of Interdependence. I still have the inked and talon-pierced document hanging on my wall.

what is this 

Get out Canada

I was so scared during my pet eagle ceremony I almost threw up. But Stonewall Jackson and I have been best friends ever since. My dad and grandfather built a really massive roost behind the house for my eagle and my sisters’ eagles. Stonewall always waits for me when I get home from class since schools are getting so over protective and strict these days and won’t allow eagles indoors. Which just goes to show how much we’re bubble wrapping kids today. Back in the day, if you couldn’t handle a few stitches because you pissed off the wrong kid’s eagle, you had to just man up and learn your lesson!

Ooo, I never miss a chance to tell this story! I had a rather unusual first eagle ceremony. The traditional giant American flag that you wave around to summon your eagle had been severely damaged the week prior (a ceremony that had not gone according to plan, but the child only suffered minor talon wounds. The flag took the brunt of the attack).  Anyway, I couldn’t use the normal flag so we had to search ALL OVER for one suitable for eagle summoning. Unfortunately the stripes weren’t the correct shade of patriotic red so everyone was worried an eagle wouldn’t show up at all.  I had to stand in the middle of that wheat field, the wind creating amber waves out of it, shaking that flag in the air for over three hours.  Everyone was just about to give up when suddenly Patriot appeared out of nowhere!  He came to me so quickly it was like he was apologizing for being late.  And we’ve been together ever since.

Some people think it’s excessive to have two eagles.  But what can I say, I’m a two eagles kind of guy.  Well, I can say, “You must be a terrorist to call me out over my excesses,” but I digress.  We don’t have many open fields around here, so I got Liberty by waving my flag atop a decommissioned WWII aircraft carrier.  I was kicking a couple of boxes of tea into the harbor for good measure, and there she was.  I loved her so much I repeated the process a year later and got young Colbert here.  It’s hard work, raising two eagles, but I have two shoulders, after all.  Besides, I know that the secret to happy and healthy eagles is plenty of Bud Light.

Oh man, the eagle ceremony. I was a weird fucking kid, okay, so I was totally sure that the eagle ceremony wasn’t just going to net me my eagle and deepen the mystical bond between a citizen and their country, I thought I was going to get to turn into an eagle too. So me and my mom and my dad and my little brother are all standing in the old civil war battleground, surrounded by the ghosts of our fallen soldiers, and all and the problem here — it’s not usually a problem because I make sure to shave my beard off twice a day, three times on sundays — was that I am, actually, born on the fourth of July. So it wasn’t just one eagle that showed up, it was pretty much every big old patriotic warbird in Missouri, all flapping around confused and pissed off, their innate senses of direction completely fucked up by the way firecracker babies warp America’s natural system of ley lines. And I was six, so grabbed the flag and ran with it over my shoulders, rippling in the wind, thinking it was going to turn into wings for me and I would go be an eagle with all the other eagles. Instead I just got mobbed by a freaked-out mess of nationalistic avians who all weighed more than I did. I lost half my nose and my whole left arm and spent most of fourth grade in reconstructive surgery getting machine guns welded on to the shattered remains of my ulna. Completely missed my little brother’s eagle ceremony, which I will always regret, but it was all worth it to have met Columbia. I never did turn into an eagle on the outside, but I like to think those long hours in the hospital, feeding her rubbing alcohol and my own blood, have made me an eagle in my heart. 

(Source: actualsaame)