you don’t understand i would sell my firstborn to know how this story started
Well it all started when Mrs. Hayfer wanted me to babysit her dumb house. When I got the keys, I sat them on top of this pie that I found on the counter. I knew it was going to be given to the family for desert if I didn’t eat it soon, so I was going to plan to eat it in my teacher’s house and dump all the crumbs on her bed. So it’s a win-win, right? Besides, she wouldn’t find out about the crumbs until after I was paid, and this teacher hates me anyway. Then, I got distracted when this hot cheerleader calls me, asking about what movie I’d recommend, but before I could answer, I realize that my mom would be there any second to serve dinner, and there was no way I was sharing that pie. So I bust out of there with the pie and the keys, and the moment I get in the house, I start chowing down on the pie with my bare hands, trying to eat this thing before anyone knows I took it, right? Well, since the pie crust was dry, I chugged a 2-liter bottle of soda whenever my throat would get dry and eventually, I really needed “to go.” Only when I went to flush, the water wouldn’t stop flowing and there was no plunger to be found. Usually I’d just shrug and say it was Josh’s fault or something, but let’s get real here, Mrs. Hayfer would’ve blamed me about her toilet overflowing if I was 30 states away. So I jammed my foot in there, hoping it’d make the toilet stop flushing. Then my phone rings, and I knew it was my mom, asking where her pie went, and because Meghan decided it’d be a great idea to make my ring tone a bunch of cats meowing, Mrs. Hayfer’s dog, Tiberius starts freaking out, bashing into the door over and over again. Now anyone who knows this dog knows that this dog will happily eat anything, and that includes the pie, and probably myself. So my foot’s totally stuck in there right, I’m freaking out, the dog’s having a seizure and I still got half a pie left.
Client: I threw out that black pen, it was out of ink.
Me: What black pen?
Client: The one that was lying on your tablet.
Me: You threw out my $150 Wacom pen?
Client: I tried writing with it and it didn’t work. It must’ve been out of ink.
this almost made me cry
this is simultaenously the best and worst submission i’ve ever seen from Clients from Hell.
I feel ill
hey sooooo remember how the police in ferguson were going to start wearing body cameras
actual quote from the article: “This gotcha discipline that we have with the dash board cameras is what we’d be afraid of,” Roorda said.
basically “any tangible way of holding us accountable for abusing our power is what we’d be afraid of”
collections that are raw as fuck ➝ gardem s/s 2014
Tumblr, may I offer you a pug in this trying time?
oh my g od
This was meant to be a quick warm up, but it turned into a comic that I’ve wanted to draw for a while. This is something that is extremely important to me, and I appreciate it if you read it.
A while ago, I heard a story that broke my heart. A family went a cat shelter to adopt. The daughter fell in love with a 3-legged cat. The father straight up said “absolutely not”. Because he was missing a leg. That cat was that close to having a family that loved him, but the missing leg held him back. Why?!
Many people have the initial instinct of “nope” when they see an imperfect animal. I get it, but less-adoptable does NOT mean less loveable. 9 out of 10 people will choose a kitten over an adult cat. And those 10% that would get an adult cat often overlook “different” animals.
All I want people to do is be open to the idea of having a “different” pet in their lives. Choose the pet that you fall in love with, but at least give all of them a fair shot at winning your heart.
Don’t dismiss them, they deserve a loving home just as much as any other cat. They still purr, they still love a warm lap, they still play, they still love you. Trust me, next time you are in the market for a new kitty, just go over to that one cat that’s missing an eye and see what he’s all about!
Let me tell to you a thing.
This is Lenore. I first saw her in a little cage at the Petco I frequent (I used to take my parents’ dog in for puppy play time), and she looked like the grouchiest, old, crotchety cat in the world, and I fell instantly in love. She was cranky, she was anti-social, hanging out at the back of her cage. Her fur was matted because she wouldn’t let the groomers near her.
She was perfect.
But I didn’t have a place for her. I wasn’t living in my own space yet, and where I was, I wasn’t allowed cats. So I pressed my face to the bars of her cage and I promised that if no one had adopted her by the time I’d bought a house, I would come back for her.
I visited her every week for over six months while I looked for a house. At one point, they had to just shave her entire rear-end because the mats or fur were so bad. They told me she clawed the heck outta the groomer that did it, screamed the entire time, and spent the next two days growling at anyone that came near the cage.
A couple of weeks later, I closed on my house. I went back and I got an employee, and I said: “That one. I need that cat.”
They got the paperwork and the lady who ran the rescue that was bringing the cats in told me that Lenore (at the time, Lila) was 8 years old, had been owned by an elderly lady who had died, and brought in to a different rescue, who’d had her for six months on top of the time I’d been seeing her at Petco.
This kitty had been living in a 3x3’ cube for over a YEAR because she was older and “less adoptable.”
I signed the paperwork, put her in a cat carrier, and drove her to my new home. I had pretty much nothing; a bed, an old couch, a couple of bookcases, and a tank of mice I called “Cat TV”. I let her out of the carrier and onto my bed, and I told her “I told you I would come back for you when I had a place. It’s not much, but it’s yours too now.”
Lenore spent the next three days straight purring non-stop. She followed me around the house purring. Sat next to me purring. Slept next to me purring. Leaning into every touch, purring, purring, always purring. She still purrs if you so much as think about petting her. She’s amazing, and I love her.
So, you know, if you’re thinking about adopting, and you see a beast that others consider “less adoptable,” think about Lenore.
The STORY THOUGH.
Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy - Dancing Groot
“Baby Groot dancing is 100 percent me. I was too embarrassed for anyone to be there, so I made everyone leave the room and I set up a camera and I videotaped myself dancing. Then I sent the video to the animators and had them animate over that. I begged them not to leak the video! Two of my closest friends came to an early screening and said ‘Hey, I recognize those moves! That’s you dancing isn’t it?!’” - Vin Diesel
reblogged before but that comment just makes it that much better
READ THE COMMENT
Vin Diesel is actually precious and we must protect him