My best mate Ryan made the mistake of not locking his room at uni when he returned home for Christmas..
so his housemates have done this
They are such neat wrappers.
even the curtains oh my
Why does this make me so happy like everything is a present!!! I know that is just a pillow but because it’s wrapped I’m excited and I want to open it???
It’s on my left forearm. It’s a note my mom left me the night she died. Here’s a side-by-side shot of the two.
Deserves every note.
I cried and then I reblogged
I’m not sure what to focus on
Her hair? her clothes? her shoes? the fact that her hair kinda looks like the tree in the background
How does she drive
Sometimes I’m confused by Canadian stereotypes but then I realize that we literally dump maple syrup onto the snow, wait for it to get gooey and then scoop it up with a stick and eat it
you better not be fucking with me canada is this for real
it is all too real
herd you tryina steal the Krabby Patty Formula
waking up and getting out of bed during winter, more like
well I guess I’m an ayg, whatever the hell that is
There is no escape
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?
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.”
OH MY LORD HELP