(Source: felicity-avenal)
(Source: spellsalmon)
I decided to be helpful and stick some washing in the washing machine. It was all going swimmingly, I’m separating lights and darks when I feel a tickle on my hand and look down at the shirt in my hand to see the BIGGEST FUCKING SPIDER I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE.
I promptly screamed like a little girl and threw the shirt onto the floor while diving into the dining room to safety. I proceeded to cry with terror while cowering on a chair and asking “Why?! WHY?! WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME” I swear every fucking spider within a five mile radius always finds some way to fuck up my day, evil little bastards.
I calmed down a little bit and decided I needed to put the washing back in the basket or my dad will kill me. Dilemma: that disgusting eight legged monster is still roaming about in the kitchen and if I have to go near it again I am going to cry. Or die. Probably both at the same time.
… So I blasted ‘Eye of the Tiger’ while wheeling myself into the kitchen on the computer chair, armed with a shoehorn. I managed to get all the clothes back in with only a small amount of girlish shrieking and then I saw it. Eyeing me up from the corner of the kitchen, it’s horrid fat legs waving menacingly in my direction. Another scream and I threw the heaviest thing closest to me at it… a pen. Unsurprisingly this did not kill it and it proceeded to swagger out of the room while I sat shrieking with fear, flailing and wheeling the computer chair as far away as possible.
It’s in the downstairs toilet at the moment and I can hear it taunting me. It’s just waiting for the right moment to strike again
THE.
GREAT.
GATSBY.
When I was in preschool there was this really weird system of time-out where they’d put you in this giant plastic bucket sort of like this one:
And the rule was you couldn’t leave the bucket for ten minutes.
In case you didn’t know, I was what the teachers referred to as a…
(Source: stannisbaratheon)
What is “Buffy the vampire slayer” ? part 3
One of the first tv shows focused on strong female characters, making the heroine, Buffy Summers, a feminist icon. After 10 years, we still remember each one of these characters: independent, fierce, warrior, bad ass. It’s not only about physical strength or how well they use their weapons, it’s about their journey (emotional pain) and how they get through the worst, stronger than ever. They came to win, to fight, to rise.
I SAW THIS AD IN 2005 AND I’M STILL WONDERING WHY IS HER HEAD SO TINY
WHY
IS HER HEAD SO TINY
NO I’VE GOT IT.
THOSE SKIN-COLOURED THINGS TO THE SIDE ARE NOT HER SHOULDERS.
THEY ARE ACTUALLY A CHAIR.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HAHAHAHAHA
My mum used to be really depressed when I was younger and it was horrible. I can remember being eight years old and having to pull the steering wheel away from her because she was trying to crash the car. She got better and things were brilliant but…
In six years I’ve seen her go from being this amazingly happy, funny woman who everyone wanted to be their mum to a woman who is completely crippled in bed because of her disability.
I feel absolutely terrible but my sympathy and my patience is beginning to wear thin. I know that she’s in pain but she’s become so unpleasant to be around that I really hate being in the same house as her.
Today she had a massive tantrum because I wouldn’t come and visit my grandma… despite the fact that I have 4000 words to write before Thursday. As “punishment” she is now slamming around the house swearing at everything and complaining constantly about every tiny little thing. She rants constantly about how food makes you fat (and I wonder why I have such a fucked up relationship with food…) and she will have multiple tantrums a day where she starts throwing food/random things on the floor. She shouts at me because the house smells of tobacco… even though I haven’t had a cigarette in days. She keeps up this constant narration about why everything is wrong and horrible - and I mean constantly. Whether she’s making food or watching TV or getting a drink, she will be complaining endlessly about EVERYTHING.
I’m absolutely at the end of my tether with her and I know that dad reached that point a very long time ago. She doesn’t help herself, she seems to want to be in constant misery and pain just to prove that she is ill… but we know she’s ill and we want to help her. It’s just very difficult to do so when she’s so unpleasant to be around. It’s horrible because she’s changed so much that I don’t see any glimpse of my mum in this horrid, bitter woman anymore.
