Hey it's Lauren :)
Photography. Writing. Drawing. Singing. Acting. Biting.
I'm weird and I love it :)

11th May 2014

Post reblogged from Just be you. with 486,560 notes

wifipasswords:

Let’s play a fun game called “we’re just friends but I’d fuck you if you asked”

Source: wifipasswords

31st March 2014

Post reblogged from Boris the Flatulent Narwhal with 135,383 notes

boristheflatulentnarwhal:

heatmor:

irish is such a shady language because hello is “dia duit” but directly translated it means “god be with you” and when someone says hello back they say “dia is muire duit” which means “god and mary be with you” .. its like “i see your god and i raise you the holy virgin whatcha gonna do bout it bitch”

And literally the first thing ANY Irish student learns to say is “An bhfuil cead agam dul go dtí an leithreas”. 

Source: cradily

28th March 2014

Quote with 2 notes

I miss you, even though you’re here. I miss the old you. The one that laughed with me, joked with me, hell, even cried with me. I miss the you, that you used to be.

28th March 2014

Quote with 1 note

Life sucks, and then you die.
— Six Word Story.

Tagged: six word story

28th March 2014

Quote reblogged from One Word at a Time with 6,641 notes

just friends don’t kiss like this.
— six word story (via findingwordsforthoughts)

28th March 2014

Quote reblogged from Broken Ballads with 605 notes

Honestly? I just don’t care anymore.

28th March 2014

Quote reblogged from waiting for whatever's next with 1,618 notes

Stop hoping he’s going to change.
— Six Word Story #5 by cozhy (via cozhy)

28th March 2014

Quote reblogged from with 15,019 notes

It was the third ‘last time’.
— Six Word Story by Pien Pouwels  (via oceanflowerbird)

28th March 2014

Photo with 1 note

Right in the childhood.

Right in the childhood.

Tagged: lilo and stitch

28th March 2014

Photoset with 13 notes

”I wear your dead dad’s clothes. I look incredible.”

Tagged: supernaturalluciferjohn winchester

28th March 2014

Quote

When someone tries to make you jealous and you’re just sitting here like, ”Bitch please. It’s not gonna happen.”

28th March 2014

Post reblogged from Boris the Flatulent Narwhal with 486,560 notes

wifipasswords:

Let’s play a fun game called “we’re just friends but I’d fuck you if you asked”

Source: wifipasswords

28th March 2014

Post reblogged from Boris the Flatulent Narwhal with 26,204 notes

mc-jaeger:

jean-huh-kirschnickerdoodle:

being a capable writer:
image

having the urge to write:
image

having a list of fic ideas:
image

having new ideas get in the way of old ones:
image

not having the inspiration/motivation to write:
image

Conclusion; Jack Sparrow is my creative mind:
image

And when you write something amazing and you love it and you share it and it’s still amazing and people love it and you’ll never be able to do anything like it ever again and you’re just likeimage

Source: jean-huh-kirschnickerdoodle

28th March 2014

Photo reblogged from Boris the Flatulent Narwhal with 288,191 notes

addictedtopunsandpizza:

mr-egbutt:

larvitarse:

anxieties:

daddyfuckedme:

3D printed out candy 

excuse me

it has begun
soon we’ll be able to illegally download food



I would absolutely download a pizza you stop these lies this instant

addictedtopunsandpizza:

mr-egbutt:

larvitarse:

anxieties:

daddyfuckedme:

3D printed out candy 

excuse me

it has begun

soon we’ll be able to illegally download food

I would absolutely download a pizza you stop these lies this instant

Source: daddyfuckedme

28th March 2014

Photoset reblogged from Boris the Flatulent Narwhal with 207,399 notes

californiajones:

zelroid:

melrosediner:

anonymousjuice:

teasingjezebelle:

an0m0ly:

This is not my usual post. But it’s something I had to share. As you read this, imagine how your reaction would differ if this story were being told by a woman, talking about how her husband treated her.

I have been separated from my wife for over a year, though we continue to share a house. We live on separate floors. We share the house because we need to parent our son together, and because we can’t afford to maintain two households.

I’d like to tell you a story, illustrating one reason why I am divorcing her. This is an example of the treatment I have received over the past fourteen years.

This evening, while she was drinking her wine, my estranged wife took exception to the fact that I wanted to talk about how tense she’s been. She said she didn’t want to talk about it.

I left the room (so as to comply with her request).

I went upstairs to use our tiny guest bathroom. She began to yell and throw things around the kitchen, then eventually charged up the stairs and into the bathroom, just as I was finishing and getting ready to leave. She confronted me there, holding her half-full wine glass in her hand. Her voice got louder, her gestures wilder. 

She complained that I had upset her by wanting to talk when she had told me she didn’t want to talk. As I began to feel uncomfortable, I said, “You’re saying it’s my fault you can’t express your emotions responsibly like an adult?”

She said, “Yes!! It’s because you want to go off and take a vacation with your girlfriend!” Then she threw the contents of her glass in my face and smashed it against my bare chest.

The results are pictured here.

I stood there, with shattered glass at my feet, glass shards sticking in my skin, bleeding, for five minutes or so. I asked her to move so that I could leave. She waved the broken stem of the glass in the air and said, “Leave!! Who’s stopping you?”

I told her she was standing between me and the door. I felt threatened. 

She laughed and said, “You’re 6 foot 3 and 250 pounds! You can’t feel threatened by me!”

I said, “You just broke a glass on my chest and cut me. You’re standing there with the stem in your hands. Yes. I feel threatened.

She said, “No, you don’t.”

I asked her to move out of the way and let me pass. I didn’t want her to think I was pushing her or threatening her.

She held her ground, waved the broken stem and shouted, “Go on! Leave! I’m not stopping you!”

After I asked her repeatedly, she finally moved a bit and I left, carefully stepping over the broken glass.

I have posted this here as evidence, and to help those who may think that size and gender make a difference when abuse is concerned. People who, like my estranged, think some have permission to feel threatened and some don’t.

Abusers come in all sizes and genders.

She and I went to a half dozen therapists over the years. At each initial session, every therapist took a look at me, then at her (5’4” 150 lbs.). Then he or she would gravely ask my wife, “Do you feel safe?”

None ever thought to ask me.

Thanks for listening.

Because this needs to be shared. Because abuse is wrong no matter what. Because this saddens my heart.

honestly, fuck tumblr. if this was a woman this would be the only thing on my dash.

with that being said, fuck people who think that women are the only ones that can be abused in a relationship. and fuck crazy women, as well.

Source: an0m0ly