(Source: surelyfunkes)
(Source: new-yorkcitygirl)
(Source: welove-beautifulpeople)
You know how some people see the Virgin Mary on their toast or waffle? Well, there is a happy face on my pillow from the drooling of blood I have been doing.
Is this the universes way of telling me that I will be okay?
Should I post a photo of this blood happy face or is that too gross?
I’m back guys! My face is swollen and huge as fuck, but I am back. Which, doesn’t really mean anything…
I mean, my face is swollen, my mouth is sore, my face is huge, I want to throw up all the time and I drool a lot, but I feel really good.
xoxo
gossip girl
To my dearest
If I may steal a moment of your time.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEATHER!
JUST WANTED TO SAY HI
Now, go have an awesome time, go drink awesome shooters, and listen to awesome music, and just sit around and soak up your own awesomeness! Get out of here and get drunk!
Getting my wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow morning.
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.
Reblogging for the comment
How old are you?
“ten”
How long have you been ten?
“…”
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN
Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path.
“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty new that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tale.
He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”
Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”
(Source: setyourphaserstostun)
If I was rich I would have a personal assistant call and make me appointments. I hate making appointments and asking questions about insurance and payment plans. Add extreme mouth pain when doing this and it’s exhausting work.
You could do the Ron Swanson method and use a pair of pliers.
This idea has run through my head after calling around this morning for a consultation and hearing the prices they charge for patients with no insurance.
