Just keep scrolling

temperatebreeze:

poptech:

And the highest paid public employee in your state is…

I hate everything.

(via inthepeppermintwind)

callmekitto:

gothamcityballet:

deafmuslimpunx:

exquisitedialectics:

takealookatyourlife:

Aiya Van Kooten everyone

When Aiya Van Kooten stood face-to-face with a burglar in her bedroom, her left eye twitched, then she went into “predator mode”.

“I screamed at him… jumped off my chair, leaped over my bed and sprinted after him down the stairs,” she said.

http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/crime/8626910/Predator-mode-scares-off-burglars

This is the best story of my life

“Although she was the only one home, Van Kooten said she had no regard for her safety - instead, she said she was just overwhelmed with “rage“….. ummmmm Hero!!! 

Haha, badass Muslim woman. Love it!!!

This lady is so awesome. She lives with her grandma and was studying and had a towel on her head and no shoes but she chased them out of her garden, kicked one up the arse as he climbed a fence, they dropped a camera and laptop, she flagged down a passing driver to help her continue the pursuit, and it turned out he was ex-military, and they finally caught one of them in a park and pinned him as the police arrived. Now she’s going to visit the burglar in prison for the next few months to help with his rehabilitation.

So in summary:

This lady doesn’t just defend her home and loved ones, she will hunt you down, team up with other skilled individuals, get you put away, and then teach you the consequences of your actions until you’re a valuable member of society once more.

Seriously she’s a frigging superhero.

ACTUAL SUPERHERO AIYA VAN KOOTEN

(via emilianadarling)

fyeahsetsandprops:

moviegeekmusings:

As a writer, actor, director, and sometimes tech director, this could possibly be the greatest note ever regarding a production.  It also shows the power of the arts

Amazing

(via inthepeppermintwind)

fuckyeahthespianpeacock:

saltheria:

yeffyaboyuice:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!

I get naked.

FULL naked.

REAL naked.

I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.

No cookies. Blatant nudity.

That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…

And there it was.

This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.

Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.

“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”

Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.

This was, nearly, one of those.

If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.

My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.

I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:

“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”

And inquiries such as:

“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”

Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?

That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.

An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

OMG ITS BACK

This shit needs to be published.

This is going in the monologue section and I’m not even sorry.

(via bringingclawstoagunfight)