Bill Hicks droppin’ some hot truths on the topic of music. The truths are so hot that they’ve burned in the back of my mind since the moment I heard him say: ‘Play From Your Fucking Heart’.
(Source: youtube.com)
Bill Hicks droppin’ some hot truths on the topic of music. The truths are so hot that they’ve burned in the back of my mind since the moment I heard him say: ‘Play From Your Fucking Heart’.
(Source: youtube.com)
Because women also have ovens inside of them, repeatedly soiled by men who sometimes forget to turn it off for nearly a year until realizing they baked something in it and need to leave town quickly so they don’t have to help with the dishes.
![[Unrelated Prologue: WHAT THE HOLLY JOLLY FUCK, TUMBLR. Your service may be free, but your service sucks—which part of SAVE AS DRAFT meant PUBLISH? Are your employees too busy Instagramming their hipster dicks off and bragging about Tumblr’s popularity to notice that every other popular service has their shit together? Are you aware that many of those functional services are run by ONE person? Are you paying people in iPhones and PBR? Are you even a real company? Are you hiring? I need a job. Check out my LinkedIn profile sometime, if you’re in the mood to masturbate.]
BUT ANYWAYS
This is a bacon reproduction of a popular helm in Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. My character, whose boobs are not as impressive as they should be, wore this for a few levels, and I was very fond of it despite that her boobs were still disappointing. I recently replaced it with a similar helm that has YET ANOTHER HORN, looted from the corpse of some bandit punk motherfucker trying to violate at the 21 and Lewis.
Everybody knows ‘Skyrim’ sounds like a fucking awesome gay bar, but it’s actually a video game. It’s part of the Elder Scrolls series. Everybody knows ‘Elder Scrolls’ sounds like a fucking awesome black metal band, but it’s actually a video game series. Skyrim is the latest release. While there is a sky, I haven’t unlocked the power to rim it. I’m a little nervous because the last version of Elder Scrolls had rain storms and stuff, while I haven’t seen a single drop in this one. This implies that the previous version had a way cleaner sky than this new one and I’d probably be better off rimming that one. Now I’ve got to decide whether I prefer jelly or syrup. I can’t handle this much longer.](http://i.imgur.com/8AXAV.jpg)
[Unrelated Prologue: WHAT THE HOLLY JOLLY FUCK, TUMBLR. Your service may be free, but your service sucks—which part of SAVE AS DRAFT meant PUBLISH? Are your employees too busy Instagramming their hipster dicks off and bragging about Tumblr’s popularity to notice that every other popular service has their shit together? Are you aware that many of those functional services are run by ONE person? Are you paying people in iPhones and PBR? Are you even a real company? Are you hiring? I need a job. Check out my LinkedIn profile sometime, if you’re in the mood to masturbate.]
BUT ANYWAYS
This is a bacon reproduction of a popular helm in Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. My character, whose boobs are not as impressive as they should be, wore this for a few levels, and I was very fond of it despite that her boobs were still disappointing. I recently replaced it with a similar helm that has YET ANOTHER HORN, looted from the corpse of some bandit punk motherfucker trying to violate at the 21 and Lewis.
Everybody knows ‘Skyrim’ sounds like a fucking awesome gay bar, but it’s actually a video game. It’s part of the Elder Scrolls series. Everybody knows ‘Elder Scrolls’ sounds like a fucking awesome black metal band, but it’s actually a video game series. Skyrim is the latest release. While there is a sky, I haven’t unlocked the power to rim it. I’m a little nervous because the last version of Elder Scrolls had rain storms and stuff, while I haven’t seen a single drop in this one. This implies that the previous version had a way cleaner sky than this new one and I’d probably be better off rimming that one. Now I’ve got to decide whether I prefer jelly or syrup. I can’t handle this much longer.
I accidentally clicked a ‘Play Last.fm Radio’ link on the Last.fm website.
At first, it was terrible and I was so angry at myself that I refused to make eye contact with myself for nearly two hours. I tried reasoning with myself, but she’s a cold-ass ghetto bitch sometimes and you won’t get anywhere with her until you’re her talking about herself in the third person. As soon as I pointed out the HILARIOUS suggestion combinations, I made up with myself for nearly two hours…but something still didn’t feel right. Why would I want to listen to a mix of music similar to the music I listen to, but isn’t the music I listen to? That’s not how people were meant to discover music.
Anyone who does it like that is working too hard. All you have to do is only hang out with people who listen to all of the same bands that you listen to, and let those people somehow discover a band which both of you will inevitably listen to. Sit back, relax, and wait until one of those people highly recommends a band to you. (People like that LOVE to recommend bands, so don’t feel bad about contributing absolutely nothing whatsoever. It’s the King of Beers of mutually-advantageous parasitic relationships.)
WARNING: It is possible that you may already know of the recommended band. Don’t panic. You have two options:
- Shrug. Say the band’s old stuff is better than their new stuff, so you don’t listen to them very often. This will reduce the risk of having your personal brand compromised by being made to look like a stupid asshole for failing to recommend the band first.
- Scoff. Say you can’t believe they hadn’t heard of the band; you’ve been listening to them for years and own a copy of their first demo on tape/vinyl. This will help everyone within earshot recognize that you are much cooler than the other person, because you came to know of a recommended band so long ago that it no longer falls in the guidelines of ‘discoverable’ bands.
Wu-Tang Flan, because pudding is all up on some inexplicable gangsta shit.
DOOM CLAW ALERT
(Source: mrsjonathancrane)
Truthful Tuesday
I’m jealous. I never looked as wonderfully pregnant as jezebelthegreat when my inside lady-fannypack was full of new human. I didn’t really look pregnant at all. More like an otherwise proportionate chick who’d been holding in like ten thousand farts for two years straight, hopefully for a contest or something. Don’t clap yet. Clothes didn’t fit right, nobody could tell I wasn’t “just fatter”, and yet I still felt pregnant. Morning (eg. all day) sickness, achy, emotional, penis-hungry and fatter-looking.
Scientific Part: Standing at just under six footlong sandwiches tall ensures that a woman is able to continue pillaging monasteries and burning hovels on nearby islands, despite that her womb lays heavy with the seed of a lucky dude who was allowed to get his white stuff all up in her pink thing. My sons were born about a month early, probably because they were so stoked to be near my vagina, gross my sons, thereby saving me from the infamous ninth month fuckingkillmealready bellysplosion.
Powerful, Inspirational Part: I don’t mean to brag unless I’m bragging, which I always am, but at least four goats were sacrificed in celebration of my ability to look a bit chubby for several months—when ALL OF A SUDDEN!, a blond-haired blue-eyed male infant appeared betwixt my powerful, inspiring, powerfully inspirational get-away sticks. Tell your friends.
"My name is Edward."
— Holler submitted by 
Anonymous
Anonymous
Response
That is not a question I won’t answer.
I am very flattered by your choice to use my Tumblr thing to write down an important idea—one that you may forget and will need to recall later. Please send me your telephone number. I pledge to never call you, and perhaps send intermittent text messages to remind you that your name is Edward. This offer is only good for approximately about less than one of your Earth years, until September 11, 2012. On that day, you must bookmark this page to ensure that you never forget the important lesson which I have taught you today: your name is Edward.
Dude.
(Source: jesusislove, via dropdeadchris)
IS FOR THE CHILDREN!
Other studies included: Gin, Juice, and French-Braiding.
Cool, now give Thor his hammer back before he starts acting like his jackass brother.
(Source: klaatu, via siempre-la-luna)
