Brianna Hanson Has No Business Looking Hotter With Every New Season Of Grace And Frankie

being bilingual is understanding but not being able to translate because your brain couldn’t be bothered to do any extra work and is just content with knowing what the heck is going on

Your blog is a blessing. I’ve been a V/M fan for a long time and im so over the posturing of anti-shippers vs. shippers who all want to insult each other with superior knowledge. This fandom needs more lesbians who are here for Tessa’s abs so go on with your bad self.

in honor of my gratitude for this most wonderful compliment… i’d like to dedicate this ask to tessa virtue’s muscles… thank you…

starting us off with a #classic

Keep reading

Reblog or your mom will die in 928 seconds.

I love my mom.

I am risking nothing

I AM SORRY FOLLOWERS, I LOVE MY MOMMY

Will not risk.

sorry followers :(

quebec city’s petit champlain neighbourhood at christmas. estabilished in 1608, it is the oldest commerical district in north america. 

photos by (click pic) patrick langlois, jean romain roussel, christina ann, pamela macnaughtan, steve leclerc, gaetan bourque, luckyquebec and dawna moore

All Star but it’s in a minor key so it makes you question life and realize the years start comin and they don’t stop comin

aka, the theme song to Shrek 9: Shrek’s Third Divorce

FEATURING THE AMAZING @allicatttx

“brooklyn nine nine renewed for season 6 at nbc”

Salty Biology™

CHYLER IN S3 OF WYNONNA EARP REBLOG IF YOU AGREE

this 👆🏾

I can’t do justice to one of the weirdest camp stories I know. My friend tells it so well, and I can offer only a pale shadow of his story.

Last summer, he was working with one of the younger units comprised of ten year old boys. They had spent the night camping on another beach and were just readying themselves to depart. “Make sure you have all your things!” called my friend. “Don’t leave anything behind!”

One small boy came up, dragging a massive tangle of decomposing seaweed behind him. “But… what about me boy?” he asked, lip trembling.

“…what is ‘me boy’?”

The child held up the stinking wad of bull kelp. “This is him. This is Me Boy.”

“Me Boy is not coming back with us,” said his counselor. “You’re going to leave Me Boy behind on the beach where he belongs.”

The campers loudly mourned the loss of Me Boy. They insisted on giving him a Viking burial at sea, which just consisted of pushing him solemnly off the back of the rowboat into the water and watching him drift away in the surf.

That was only the beginning. Me Boy would be back.

The campers, in true camp fashion, possessed some kind of cultic hive-mind and a predisposition for bizarre memes. Me Boy would not be forgotten. They started telling each other stories about Me Boy and how he would one day rise again. There were warring factions with contradicting dogmas about Me Boy. Only when the gardener allowed them to take home a zucchini she had harvested did they find their god, born anew.

Me Boy, The Zucchini That Was A God, became the whole unit’s mascot. The kids would bicker over who got to carry him. They built nests and carriers for Me Boy and brought him to different activities, fiercely defending him from those that would do him harm. One child appointed himself the Voice of Me Boy and would translate the zucchini’s divine wishes into human speech.

It got out of hand. Me Boy had become a distraction, a fixation, a violent controversy. Something had to be done.

My friend, their counselor, took it upon himself to kill Me Boy. The children wailed in despair as he chopped their God into refreshing slices. With this sudden turn of fortune, followers of Me Boy turned to theophagy. “We must eat him to preserve his power!” they cried. Boys who would otherwise never have touched a vegetable ate greedily of this sacrament, eager to let Me Boy live on within them.

For a time, it seemed that peace and order had been restored, and the religion had already faded into its silver age. But only for a time.

In the last few days of camp, the religion of Me Boy splintered into several denominations. Every meal yielded new vegetable matter said to be a reincarnation of Me Boy, only for opposing groups to dismiss these as false prophets. Some believed that Me Boy was gone. Others believed his spirit lived on, intangible, omnipresent. Some believed he had found a new vessel inside a carrot, a pear, a slice of cantaloupe… even inside a child. There was chaos, and strife, and heartbreak without the guidance of Me Boy.