This is the story of the three Baudelaire children. Violet loved to invent; her brother, Klaus, loved to read; and their sister, Sunny… she loved to bite.
Nobody tells me how to slice my pizza.
do you ever see a photograph of someone really attractive from like the 1800s and you suddenly get pissed because they’ve been dead for like 200 years and you probably don’t have a chance with them
“We have to go back”
you are the first person to add a comment to this that wasnt doctor who and it made me smile too bless your soul
i love how there is no comments on this everyone just gets the reference
No. No, I don’t get the reference. 300 thousand people have reblogged this without a word, without so much as a tag, because apparently we all get the reference. I fucking don’t. This has passed by my dashboard hundreds of fucking times and nobody ever asks what the fuck it is.
I’m officially terming this post a conspiracy. 300000 people could not just know what this is. You’re all reblogging this to fit in, or because you know it messes with people, or because you’re the fucking Matrix. You’re the Matrix, aren’t you? You’re all a bunch of Mr Smiths living in a world of green code. Well fuck you all and fuck your stupid post. I’m off to save fucking Zion.
Dude it’s from spongebob
If you leave your game, stay safe, stay alert, and whatever you do, don’t die! Because if you die outside of your own game, you don’t regenerate. EVER! Game over.
first line | last line
This halloween please say no to these costumes please just say no they are fucking insulting and Dia de los Muertos is NOT HALLOWEEN I REPEAT NOT HALLOWEEN THIS IS NOT A COSTUME PLEASE STOP TREATING IT LIKE ONE
TO ALL THE PEOPLE GETTING FUCKED OFF AT MY POST. THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I MADE IT. FOR YOUR PINCHE GUERO PENDEJX ASSES. “WE DO IT OUT OF RESPECT,” MY ASS.
this is capitalism ripping through my memories i hold so sacred. Memories of walking through the streets of Chapala after school with my grandmother, and the smell of plants for the preparation of the big event. Memories of memories of memories
This is capitalism and white supremacy destroying, erasing and making new… something that has connected me with my elderes and ancestors,
This is whiteness telling me my body, our gente is unwanted, dehumanized and conditioned to death but at the same time extracting a part of my identity and wearing it as a mask.
This is a mask made of our dead and torn bodies… this is literally a mask made out of ripped bloody flesh. The flesh of migrants who die every year trying to cross.. the flesh of people who become criminalized and confined behind bars. The bloody flesh of torn bodies from years of exploitation in sweat shops, fruit and vegetable fields, dish washers.. domestic workers…
this is our flesh ripped out cleaned, pampered and styled to fit a white face.
This man was our president for EIGHT YEARS. We are never gonna live this down