Dustbin for Excess Thoughts

badtvblog: Great Gatsby captioned exactly how it happened.

Tue, 21 May 2013 17:59:03 -0400

Great Gatsby captioned exactly how it happened.

kinovore: taxidermyextaordinaire: In 1731, King Frederick I of...

Tue, 21 May 2013 10:03:45 -0400

taxidermyextaordinaire:

In 1731, King Frederick I of Sweden gave a lion he had killed to a taxidermist who had never seen a lion before, and this was the result

I’m leaving.

Photo

Tue, 21 May 2013 09:55:38 -0400

birdds: forestofweird:

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:30:25 -0400

birdds:

forestofweird:

rnedia: these-demons-we-fight: rnedia: this is probably the...

Mon, 20 May 2013 20:00:56 -0400

rnedia:

these-demons-we-fight:

rnedia:

this is probably the only sex gif i will every reblog, because for some reason i feel like it’s more than just sex. i don’t know if it’s how they’re actually looking at one another or the way they can’t get close enough. he’s actually looking at her like a person and not just a sex object. but then again, it could be all in my head. i mean, this is how i would want it to be. but that’s just me

…. you do realize this is a gif of a man riding a cracker through the mountains right?

do u even know what sex is

benedictcumberbatchvevo: and i swear in that moment, we were...

Mon, 20 May 2013 19:30:30 -0400

benedictcumberbatchvevo:

and i swear in that moment, we were jimfinite

Reblog if your a hunter then check your ask.

Mon, 20 May 2013 13:01:46 -0400

blond-demon:

blond-demon:

You’ll see soon enough.

Guys what are you doing this was only supposed to get five notes

No matter, you will all still get the ask *Sigh*

domesticabusewillsaveusall: Stefon’s Wedding |x| SNL...

Mon, 20 May 2013 12:54:55 -0400

domesticabusewillsaveusall:

Stefon’s Wedding |x| SNL 18/5/2013

German Smurfs, Gizblow the coked up Gremlin, Human Fire Extinguishers, Ben Affleck and is that Ryan Seacrest? No it’s a drowned albino who looks like Axl Rose.

I’m going to miss Bill Hader.

not a good basis for a system of government

Sun, 19 May 2013 21:56:32 -0400

strange women lying in ponds distributing swords
farcical aquatic ceremonies
watery tarts throwing swords at you
moistened bints lobbing scimitars at you

jaredsgirl86: markpellescreamo: aliceinhalloweenland: weepingangelcastiel: fiftyfandomspooky: lo...

Sun, 19 May 2013 20:30:36 -0400

jaredsgirl86:

markpellescreamo:

aliceinhalloweenland:

weepingangelcastiel:

fiftyfandomspooky:

lordscrubbington:

snakelet:

no homo. we’re fresh out. we should get a new shipment in on monday

can you check in the back

can you check in the closet

I did, and I found Dean Winchester.

Man you went in deep.

not as deep as castiel

Photo

Sun, 19 May 2013 20:01:05 -0400

cucumbersforlegs: basils-kite: I went to the MCA in Chicago...

Sun, 19 May 2013 19:30:40 -0400

cucumbersforlegs:

basils-kite:

I went to the MCA in Chicago yesterday with my family and my brothers matched these paintings and then this happened.

Accidental performance art: priceless

renting a glass igloo in Finland to sleep under the northern...

Sat, 18 May 2013 20:30:27 -0400

renting a glass igloo in Finland to sleep under the northern lights

brb renting an igloo in finland

traversant: archetypalboner: “Women are more likely to be attracted to personality and men are...

Sat, 18 May 2013 20:00:57 -0400

traversant:

archetypalboner:

“Women are more likely to be attracted to personality and men are more likely to be attracted to physical appearance.”

Woah maybe that’s because we teach women to see men as people and we teach men to see women as objects.

Ding ding ding ding ding.

phisting: poppunknigga: i honestly tried hard to scroll past...

Sat, 18 May 2013 19:30:33 -0400

phisting:

poppunknigga:

i honestly tried hard to scroll past this.
like, really fucking hard i’m sorry

oh my god

Photo

Fri, 17 May 2013 20:30:21 -0400

larrys27tattoos: whatisonyobiscuit: starrysleeper: tribblesexual-jotunn: thelilnan: I am...

Fri, 17 May 2013 20:00:48 -0400

larrys27tattoos:

whatisonyobiscuit:

starrysleeper:

tribblesexual-jotunn:

thelilnan:

I am really bothered by the fact that basically the only reason why gay marriage is illegal is because some people think it’s disgusting. You know, I think peas are disgusting but we’re noT MAKING THAT ILLEGAL ARE WE

what’s wrong with you peas are delicious

gay people are delicious too

no dessert for you until you eat all your gays

what the fuck just happened here

be quiet and eat your gays

shrineart: jeremyloverobsessedmoi: nuwanda13: irefusetobedefin...

Fri, 17 May 2013 19:30:49 -0400

shrineart:

jeremyloverobsessedmoi:

nuwanda13:

irefusetobedefined:

ddowney:

i’m just gonna leave this here as a reminder that “hitting bottom” doesn’t mean “staying on bottom for the rest of your life and dying as a piece of crap”

I will never, ever, not reblog this.

*huggles RDJ* Anyone on here who loves him, someone posted an amazing story about him when he was younger. I wish knew where the link was so I could share it. Instead, it’s just cut and pasted below. If I find the link, I’ll replace it with that.

I will also say that I have read this several times now and it still makes me cry.

“True story: His Name is Robert Downey Jr.” by Dana Reinhardt

I’m willing to go out on a limb here and guess that most stories of kindness do not begin with drug addicted celebrity bad boys.

    Mine does.

    His name is Robert Downey Jr.

    You’ve probably heard of him. You may or may not be a fan, but I am, and I was in the early 90’s when this story takes place.

    It was at a garden party for the ACLU of Southern California. My stepmother was the executive director, which is why I was in attendance without having to pay the $150 fee. It’s not that I don’t support the ACLU, it’s that I was barely twenty and had no money to speak of.

    I was escorting my grandmother. There isn’t enough room in this essay to explain to you everything she was, I would need volumes, so for the sake of brevity I will tell you that she was beautiful even in her eighties, vain as the day is long, and whip smart, though her particular sort of intelligence did not encompass recognizing young celebrities.

    I pointed out Robert Downey Jr. to her when he arrived, in a gorgeous cream-colored linen suit, with Sarah Jessica Parker on his arm. My grandmother shrugged, far more interested in piling her paper plate with various unidentifiable cheeses cut into cubes. He wasn’t Carey Grant or Gregory Peck. What did she care?

    The afternoon’s main honoree was Ron Kovic, whose story of his time in the Vietnam War that had left him confined to a wheelchair had recently been immortalized in the Oliver Stone film Born on the Fourth of July.

    I mention the wheelchair because it played an unwitting role in what happened next.

    We made our way to our folding chairs in the garden with our paper plates and cubed cheeses and we watched my stepmother give one of her eloquent speeches and a plea for donations, and there must have been a few other people who spoke but I can’t remember who, and then Ron Kovic took the podium, and he was mesmerizing, and when it was all over we stood up to leave, and my grandmother tripped.

    We’d been sitting in the front row (nepotism has its privileges) and when she tripped she fell smack into the wheelchair ramp that provided Ron Kovic with access to the stage. I didn’t know that wheelchair ramps have sharp edges, but they do, at least this one did, and it sliced her shin right open.

    The volume of blood was staggering.

    I’d like to be able to tell you that I raced into action; that I quickly took control of the situation, tending to my grandmother and calling for the ambulance that was so obviously needed, but I didn’t. I sat down and put my head between my knees because I thought I was going to faint. Did I mention the blood?

    Luckily, somebody did take control of the situation, and that person was Robert Downey Jr.

    He ordered someone to call an ambulance. Another to bring a glass of water. Another to fetch a blanket. He took off his gorgeous linen jacket and he rolled up his sleeves and he grabbed hold of my grandmother’s leg, and then he took that jacket that I’d assumed he’d taken off only to it keep out of the way, and he tied it around her wound. I watched the cream colored linen turn scarlet with her blood.

    He told her not to worry. He told her it would be alright. He knew, instinctively, how to speak to her, how to distract her, how to play to her vanity. He held onto her calf and he whistled. He told her how stunning her legs were.

    She said to him, to my humiliation: “My granddaughter tells me you’re a famous actor but I’ve never heard of you.”

    He stayed with her until the ambulance came and then he walked alongside the stretcher holding her hand and telling her she was breaking his heart by leaving the party so early, just as they were getting to know each other. He waved to her as they closed the doors. “Don’t forget to call me, Silvia,” he said. “We’ll do lunch.”

    He was a movie star, after all.

    Believe it or not, I hurried into the ambulance without saying a word. I was too embarrassed and too shy to thank him.

    We all have things we wish we’d said. Moments we’d like to return to and do differently. Rarely do we get that chance to make up for those times that words failed us. But I did. Many years later.

    I should mention here that when Robert Downey Jr. was in prison for being a drug addict (which strikes me as absurd and cruel, but that’s the topic for a different essay), I thought of writing to him. Of reminding him of that day when he was humanity personified. When he was the best of what we each can be. When he was the kindest of strangers.

    But I didn’t.

    Some fifteen years after that garden party, ten years after my grandmother had died and five since he’d been released from prison, I saw him in a restaurant.

    I grew up in Los Angeles where celebrity sightings are commonplace and where I was raised to respect people’s privacy and never bother someone while they’re out having a meal, but on this day I decided to abandon the code of the native Angeleno, and my own shyness, and I approached his table.

    I said to him, “I don’t have any idea if you remember this…” and I told him the story.

    He remembered.

    “I just wanted to thank you,” I said. “And I wanted to tell you that it was simply the kindest act I’ve ever witnessed.”

    He stood up and he took both of my hands in his and he looked into my eyes and he said, “You have absolutely no idea how much I needed to hear that today.”

OH MY GOD………………………..

reblog forever

Hey, net kids? *points at this* Next time you feel like shit about yourself and your location and your life and where you are? Yeah, look at this.

cottoncandyandheroin: faggot-of-the-west: The g-word is a...

Thu, 16 May 2013 20:30:35 -0400

cottoncandyandheroin:

faggot-of-the-west:

The g-word is a slur. I know they use it in the movie, but please do not repeat it.

Tarzan & Jane is by Toy-Box, not Aqua. Your life is a lie.

I think it’s okay in this context because A) she is called that in the movie. and B) it was a social class during the setting of the movie

That’s just what I think

funny because the person who made the gypsy comment has the word “faggot” in their url

just saying

okiswonderful: what

Thu, 16 May 2013 20:01:07 -0400

okiswonderful:

what