protect girls with hairy arms and hairy tummies and the one’s that have a mustache, and protect the ones who feel uncomfortable wearing bikini’s because they have hairy backs and protect the young hairy girls who are shaving everything on themselves because they just want it to go away. protect the girls with dark hair on their feet and their hands. protect the ones who get called apes and shave when their 9 so they don’t get bullied anymore. protect. hairy. girls.
(Source: blanchardd, via personally-victimized-by-life)
- ̗̀Goghsyrup Giveaway ̖́-
ULTIMATE ART HOE GIVEAWAY!!!
I recently uploaded a giveaway and unfortunately tumblr took it down for ‘violating the guidelines’
I am still doing the giveaway so I am posting again and I have added a few extra goodies for all the trouble! same rules apply as seen below …
In celebration of all you great followers, I have decided to do a giveaway!!
*rules*
• MUST be following me
• Reblog to enter, likes do not count
• You can reblog as many times as you like (each reblog counts as an entry)
• Don’t delete caption
• No giveaway blogs
*prizes*
• 1 kanken backpack
• 1 pair of art socks of your choice (from the picture above)
• 4 Vincent Van Gogh badges
• 1 Vincent Van Gogh T-shirt
• 1 Ryman Soft Cover Sketch Book (A4 110gsm 80 Sheets 160 Pages)
• 1 pack of copic markers (36 markers)
The winner will be announced on 15th of August and will be selected with a random number generator
(via sehrlock)
ginasauthenticstolenpolicebadges:
When you end up doing all the work on a group project
May you find exactly what you want at the thrift shop, in your price range, next time you’re there.
can’t pass up this kinda karma
and in your size
(via bootylicious-bitches)
I’m stuck between wanting:
1. A long lasting relationship with my soulmate who supports me and protects me and is my partner and we are completely bad ass together and in love
2. Wanting to have casual sex and rip out the heart of everyone person I meet
3. Being independent and having a loyal dog while I’m married to my career
It scares me how accurate this is.
(via queerheaded)
soundingonlyatnightasyousleep:
If Hugh Jackman can deadlift 405 pounds, he shouldn’t have settled merely for Marius. He could’ve picked up Enjolras as well. You know what, add Eponine. Street gamines can’t possibly weigh that much. Man let’s just add the whole of Les Amis (including Gavroche). It’s Hugh Jackman. He can take it.
“yes my child I forgot what your booby of a young man looks like so please pick one from the pile”
*tries to subtly tilt the more sensible looking ones towards cosette*
(via sarahvonkrolock)
Shout out to all the janitors that clean public bathrooms. Seriously thank you. You make going to public bathrooms a little more bearable when it’s clean. You’re all under appreciated heroes.
it takes like half a second to thank janitors/custodial workers and wish them a nice day with a smile and you should definitely be doing it
Okay, so sort of related.
When I was in elementary school, my favorite person was not any of my teachers, not my principal, not my school nurse, but John the custodian. He was like Ned Flanders’ cool brother.
Every day without fail I would find him in the cafeteria or the hallway and tell him about my day and the cool things I was learning. I talked to him about my parents’ divorce. I told him about the stray dogs I was feeding and letting sleep on the back porch, and then told him how my mother made me stop and bring them to a shelter. After my friends, he was the first to sign all my casts (I was clumsy af in the third and fourth grades). To his credit, he always stopped what he was doing to listen and ask questions, and never once did he make me feel like I was bothering him. I always thanked him for making sure there was toilet paper and soap in the girl’s bathroom outside Mrs. Tewky’s room and never understood why he laughed whenever I did. He even let me wear his super cool sunglasses with the iridescent lenses (hey, it was the 90s).
I was devastated when I eventually moved to the middle school, because it meant I’d never see him again.
Cut to like a million years later. I was student-teaching at the high school and was having my first open house, and who walked in but John the custodian. Turns out, his daughter was one of my tenth graders. He came in not to talk about his daughter (who was loving the Hamlet unit), but to tell me how proud he was of me. He said the bright points of his time at the now-demolished Willis School were when I would come running down the hall to talk to him. “When you’re a janitor, nobody tends to look at you, let alone talk to you,” he said, “and here was this crazy-haired girl who would bring me drawings and trusted me enough to tell me about what was going on at home. You’ll never know what that meant to me.”
And once I stopped crying and we stopped hugging, he told me that he was now the head of the maintenance department for another city’s entire school system. “I always thought about quitting and maybe going back into carpentry, but I stayed because of kids like you. When I had my baby girl, I hoped she’d turn out a little like you. I hoped she’d brighten someone’s day.”
Every so often, I visit my hometown and I’ll see him in CVS or coming out of Nick’s Subs, and we’ll catch up and talk like it hasn’t been over two decades since a second grader with seriously insane hair walked up to the janitor standing at the front of the cafeteria and asked if he wanted some of her Gushers.
Thank the janitors and custodians whenever you can. They are people, they are important, and the world is better because of them.
(Source: young-replica, via roachpatrol)