I played with a baby wallaroo this morning
ONLY IN ‘STRAYA MATES !
So, you could afford glasses, but not a shirt?
Well I can’t see without them so yeah I sort of have to wear glasses to function.
If I choose not to wear a shirt it’s because I feel like not wearing a shirt, not because I cannot afford it.
How about you reblog the thousands upon thousands of pornographic material with topless woman in it and ask them if they can afford clothes.
Oh wait, that wouldn’t be a problem would it, because a woman can only be topless if it’s in a sexual scenario.
Ooooooo shiiiiiit that reply tho
No Mona Lisa (Spoken Word)
Getting ready to shoot another video for YouTube. Stay tuned!
Untitled Spoken Word Poem
emotional abuse is when someone does something to hurt you, and when you express your feelings, that you’re upset, they turn it around to be something you did to hurt them and they force you to apologize for it, and your feelings, like always, are rendered invalid and silenced, forever damaging the ability to trust others with your feelings because they always are used against you.
this is important because so many people don’t know this
Sorry not sorry.
The men of tumblr unite. Because this is more than fighting the patriarchy, this is fighting for the voice of the people.
THE FUCK DID YOU SAY THE PATRIARCHY WAS UP TO?
I’M ON MY WAY.
Who is this how did you get this numb—THE PATRIARCHY IS DOING WHTA
SAVE SOME PATRIARCH BLOOD FOR US
3:01PM SYDNEY TIME
AW HELL NO
I’M COMIN YOU MOTHERFUCKERS I DON’T EVEN CARE IF THEY DON’T LET ME ON A PLANE
Fucking bro strider come out!! Omg HAHAHAAH I love theses guys
Meanwhile In England……
"Jolly great bit of Tea"
"THE PATRIARCHY DOING WHAT!?!!?!?!"
"Those Bloody Wankers!!!!!!"
"It Looks Like Tea Time Is Going To Have To Wait"
"It’s A Jolly Good Thing I kept My Old Equipment…."
"All Right Old Chaps, Im On My Way!!!"
I just reblogged this, but IT GOT BETTER.
Ladies and gentlemen, the British.
HOW CAN WE BE HAPPY ?
Once a group of 50 people was attending a seminar.
Suddenly the speaker stopped and decided to do a group activity. He started giving each one a balloon. Each one was asked to write his/her name on it using a marker pen. Then all the balloons were collected and put in another room.
Now these delegates were let in that room and asked to find the balloon which had their name written, within 5 minutes. Everyone was frantically searching for their name, colliding with each other, pushing around others and there was utter chaos.
At the end of 5 minutes no one could find their own balloon.
Now each one was asked to randomly collect a balloon and give it to the person whose name was written on it.
Within minutes everyone had their own balloon.
The speaker began— exactly this is happening in our lives. Everyone is frantically looking for happiness all around, not knowing where it is.
Our happiness lies in the happiness of other people. Give them their happiness; you will get your own happiness.
And this is the purpose of human life.
Bleed me dry
And take these ink stained hands
For your own.
My burden is now yours.
We are memories wrapped
In old clothes and yellow newspapers
Stories already written
And not yet begun
Here we remain
With nothing but whispers
Of breath stuck
Behind our unholy teeth.
And so we cross ourselves
With ink and half-hearted prayers
With knowledge of nothing
But classic literature and
Modern day mythology.
So shoot me up
With the drugs I crave,
Pour wine down my throat,
Let my body rot through daylight
And dusk, memory and mist.
We are nothing more than the stories
That we feign to create.