Girl look at that body,
Girl look at that body,
Girl look at that body,
We should probably call the police who knows how long it’s been in the river.
Girl look at that body,
Girl look at that body,
Girl look at that body,
We should probably call the police who knows how long it’s been in the river.
A man was sunbathing naked on a beach. He saw a little girl coming, so he covered his privates. He told the girl he was hiding a bird. She left and he fell asleep. Later he woke up in pain in hospital, he didn’t know what happened. The little girl came to visit him and she told him that when he was asleep she played with the bird and it spat on her so she broke its neck, burnt the nest and stabbed the eggs.
oh i see how it is
bears can hibernate and it’s a “part of nature”
but when i do it’s “creepy” and “antisocial”
Part of Tumblr
Look at this site, isn’t it neat?
Wouldn’t you think that this dashboard’s complete?
Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl.
The girl who blogs… everything?
Look at this trove, treasures untold.
How many wonders can one Tumblr hold?
Looking around here you think.
Sure, reblog everything.
I’ve seen memes and hipsters aplenty.
Reblogged graphics and text posts galore.
You want messages? I’ve got twenty!
But who cares, no big deal.
I want more…
I want to be where the hipsters are.
I want to see, want to see them bloggin’.
Putting some pics in their; What do you call it? Oh queue.
Facebook and MySpace won’t get you far.
Friends are required for liking, commenting.
When they start creeping then you just… what’s that word again? Block.
Up where they like, where they reblog.
Where they have Caturday and Sundog.
Signup is free.
Wish I could be.
Part of Tumblr.
What would I give if I could live without these errors?
What would I pay to spend the day scrolling my dash?
Bet David Karp, he has a heart.
Bet he won’t reprimand his followers.
Bright young hipsters, don’t need misters.
Forever alone.
I’m ready to know what those hipsters know!
Ask them my questions and get some answers!
What is breathing? And what is… what’s the word? Air?
When’s it my turn.
Wouldn’t I love.
Love to follow, like and reblog.
Out of FB.
Wish I could be.
Part of Tumblr.
I was at the library the other day, and my daughter was playing at the Art Table with two other girls. One of the little girls’ mother was near by and said “Aren’t you girls good little artists!”
And the third girl perked up and said “My dad’s an artist!”
The woman smiled indulgently and says “Oh really, what kind?”
The little girl proudly told her “He’s a tattoo artist.”
And the woman. Oh man. Her face just twists, crumples into something nothing short of disdain, and she opens her mouth and says “That’s not…”
“An easy job,” I cut in, looking the woman in the face because really? You’re going to tell a child her dad’s not a real artist. “In fact it’s very very hard, because that art is alive forever on a person, not like on paper. And that’s scary! You have to be really good, to be a tattoo artist. Your dad must be really, really good.”
what kind of person could just try and crush a little kid like that? goddamn.
I wonder how many stranger’s stories we make it into? You know, maybe someone saw you in passing and told their friends about how pretty the girl in the lavender sweater was. Or maybe they overheard you say a joke and repeated it to their friend, confessing that they heard it from some guy at the store.
I think about this all the time
How many stranger’s photos are you in the background of? That’s what I think about.
i know this girl,
she had dreams the size of the world,
but she need to face reality.
her family is mostly messed up,
her friends are her last resort,
from the horror of the outside world today.
she found this boy,
he became part of her weird world,
but who know what will happen in the end.
to her, her life is just a story,
her story which she holds to her heart,
doesn’t what it to end,
but then she does have times where she believes it should.
people walk in and out,
gives her a few stabs in the heart then goes,
some stay, and those who do are the ones who means the most.
just be sure to feel no sympathy for her,
don’t say sorry, there’s no need to,
in a way she deserves it.
any guesses on who this girl could be…?
