all twerk no play

politicalsexkitten:

thewalkingmapal:

sizvideos:

Video

WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS THE SADDEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY FUCKING LIFE NO GET OUT OMG I’M CRYING

They knew people would listen if there was a dog involved god fucking dammit

darkpathos:

"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain." 

officialunitedstates:





Wednesday night was bingo night at the senior center closest to my home.  I used to go every week, sit at the table with Doreen and the gals, and try my best to pull out a victory.  I had terrible luck of course; I never won despite there being only a couple dozen old folks who I was competing against.
After a few months of these losses, I got fed up and decided that I was going to take control of this Bingo competition scam.  I knew that the only way to beat ‘em was to outlast ‘em. 
The first night I tried going around to every table and telling the ladies a really boring story about my cat.  I thought that would make them bored and fall asleep.  However, the exact opposite happened, and they were just happy someone was talking to them.  I don’t even have a cat.  But if I did its name would be Apples.
The second week I knew I had to take more drastic action if I was to win.  After a long look at the ten page Bingo Night rulebook, I noticed that there was no penalty for yelling Bingo if you didn’t have a Bingo.  This was my in.  After the 9th false Bingo yell I could tell the ladies were getting annoyed with me.  “Pay attention to the numbers!” Doreen yelled at me.  Go punch a rock, Doreen.
Slowly, one by one, the ladies got so aggravated with me slowing down the game that they started to leave.  My voice was hoarse.  I was getting tired of yelling Bingo but I knew I couldn’t give up now.  I was so close.
Doreen was the last lady sitting.  It was all down to this.  The woman who was reading the numbers had given up by now.  The janitor had come in to mop up the spilled punch and cookie crumbs.  It was just me and Doreen, just me and Doreen.  Whoever left first was the loser; whoever remained was going to get the title of Wednesday Night Bingo Winner. 
"Give it up, Doreen," I yelled.  "You haven’t got a chance."
"What??" she said, apparently unable to hear me.
"Give it up, Doreen," I yelled.  "You haven’t got a chance."
"No." 
I could see the look in her eyes, the fierce competitive spirit in her fluffy white hair.  I pulled out my sleeping bag and three Nintendo DS’s.  She pulled out her two knitting pointy things and a string of yarn.  We were both in it for the long haul.

officialunitedstates:

Wednesday night was bingo night at the senior center closest to my home.  I used to go every week, sit at the table with Doreen and the gals, and try my best to pull out a victory.  I had terrible luck of course; I never won despite there being only a couple dozen old folks who I was competing against.

After a few months of these losses, I got fed up and decided that I was going to take control of this Bingo competition scam.  I knew that the only way to beat ‘em was to outlast ‘em. 

The first night I tried going around to every table and telling the ladies a really boring story about my cat.  I thought that would make them bored and fall asleep.  However, the exact opposite happened, and they were just happy someone was talking to them.  I don’t even have a cat.  But if I did its name would be Apples.

The second week I knew I had to take more drastic action if I was to win.  After a long look at the ten page Bingo Night rulebook, I noticed that there was no penalty for yelling Bingo if you didn’t have a Bingo.  This was my in.  After the 9th false Bingo yell I could tell the ladies were getting annoyed with me.  “Pay attention to the numbers!” Doreen yelled at me.  Go punch a rock, Doreen.

Slowly, one by one, the ladies got so aggravated with me slowing down the game that they started to leave.  My voice was hoarse.  I was getting tired of yelling Bingo but I knew I couldn’t give up now.  I was so close.

Doreen was the last lady sitting.  It was all down to this.  The woman who was reading the numbers had given up by now.  The janitor had come in to mop up the spilled punch and cookie crumbs.  It was just me and Doreen, just me and Doreen.  Whoever left first was the loser; whoever remained was going to get the title of Wednesday Night Bingo Winner. 

"Give it up, Doreen," I yelled.  "You haven’t got a chance."

"What??" she said, apparently unable to hear me.

"Give it up, Doreen," I yelled.  "You haven’t got a chance."

"No." 

I could see the look in her eyes, the fierce competitive spirit in her fluffy white hair.  I pulled out my sleeping bag and three Nintendo DS’s.  She pulled out her two knitting pointy things and a string of yarn.  We were both in it for the long haul.

crimewave420:

WHEN I SHOW UP 2 THA FUNCTION UNANNOUNCED 

crimewave420:

WHEN I SHOW UP 2 THA FUNCTION UNANNOUNCED 

shoulderblades:

DOGS THAT ATE BEES i’m cryign

devongreen:

dashdrive:

this oatmeal has god damn dinosaur eggs in it and then when you cook it THE DINOSAURS FUCKIN HATCH IM SO PUMPED

Was this post made in 1996?

chepibola:

when my mum scolds me

image

neatpotatoes:

a call i was never prepared for

neatpotatoes:

a call i was never prepared for