(via fuckyeah-i-m-y-o-u-r-s)

  • *looking at my legs*: Oh my god why
  • *looking at my stomach*: Oh my god why
  • *looking at my arms*: Oh my god why
  • *looking at my face*: Oh my god why
  • *trying to exercise*: Oh my god why
  • *eating shitty food*: Oh my god why
  • *weighing myself*: Oh my god why
  • *looking at my life*: Oh my god why
  • *looking at my music taste*: cool man

artechoke:

why are straight boys so afraid of sharing beds its not like ur gonna accidentally wake up with the other dude’s dick in ur mouth like calm tf down

(via predictable-much)

(via fashion-in-ny13)

I wonder how many times you’ve compared me to her.

(via cityingrey)

#baby  

angle-of-depression:

nothingcorporate:

opinions on abortions are kinda like nipples

everyone has them but women’s are a little bit more relevant 

But all you ever see are men’s

(via cityingrey)

genocidercyo:

clockey:

you’re the window to my wall

you’re the sweat that drips down my balls

(via cityingrey)

(via askinnyblackman)

My parents sent me a picture of their kitchen renovation

(via askinnyblackman)

(via predictable-much)

deathpup:

shrexything:

babyferaligator:

oomshi:

is masturbating while smoking weed called masturblazing 

no its called highjacking

guys no it’s weedwhacking

no its called dissapointing ur mother

(via kettleandtea)

(via askinnyblackman)

why ed sheeran is a lyrical genius

  • ed: it's alright to die cause death is the only thing you haven't tried but just for tonight hold on
  • ed: when my hair's all but gone and my memory fades and the crowds don't remember my name when my hands don't play the same strings the same way i know you will still love me the same
  • ed: i don't get waves of missing you anymore they're more like tsunami tides in my eyes
  • ed: you can fit me inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen next to your heartbeat where i should be keep it deep within your soul
  • ed: THEY SAY IM UP AND COMIN LIKE IM FUCKIN IN AN ELEVATOR

I have been thinking of how I want to be touched by you, with hands that will play me like piano keys, with fingers that will make a symphony out of me.

Karese Burrows, Literary Sexts (via larmoyante)

(via predictable-much)