Contempt is the fuel to my fire.
Fuck your hipster shit.
What the fuck is soft grunge?
Industrial | Reptiles | Faggotry
Anatomy | Science | Art
Joe Letz and Abbey Nex
when straight guys ask how lesbian sex works i feel really bad for their girlfriends because if you dont understand how to have sex with a girl in any way other than repeatedly putting your dick in her you are having some really bad sex
I want to reblog this 100 times but I’ll just do it once
I love how the Addams Family has ZERO slut-shaming. Like… honey you can dance naked and enslave someone with your womanly charms if you want to, I don’t fucking care, but so help me you’re going to get a college education first.
The Addamses are what every family should aspire to be like (you know; without the dismemberment and electric chairs as play time). Honestly, have you ever seen more unconditionally loving and supportive parents than Gomez and Morticia? And not just with the kids, but with each other. I think what’s especially unique about them is how open they are with everything. They don’t treat their children like children. They treat them like they treat everyone else; direct, and to the point.
I HAVE to reblog this…
Remember that time the Addams Family was one of the best TV shows and movie serieses ever?
Right before I pressed play I thought “I swear to fucking god if this is that stupid bear force song”
YOU WERE RIGHT
BEAR FORCE ONE REPRESENT
the mashup you didnt need.
It took me two days to find this again and I’m never letting go
ohmy god. its the smash mouth fugue i’ve been looking for it for so long GOD DAMNIT IT’S HERE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL
don’t stop coming and they don’t stop coming
I love sitting outside on the concrete, head bowed, cold seeping through my cheap velvet thrift store dress. I love watching the people who pass by—the ones who ignore me, the ones who throw change, the small children who grin at my strange hair and funny face. The couples dealing drugs on the sly in front of the neighborhood Bookman’s. I love the smoke from a bummed cigarette circling my head; the Madonna of Mallrats, patron saint of switchblade fights and bad decisions.
Don’t marry him because you “love” him. Don’t marry him because he ignites some flame, only to blow it out later. Don’t marry him because “you’ve never felt like this before.” Or because you feel the highest form of happiness only to be followed by sinking depression. Don’t be with him because he’s a challenge and because he makes your head hurt at night. Marry him, because he’s stable. Because you’re not afraid to talk about your problems. Because he speaks the truth and doesn’t try to conjure up a happy illusion. Because you still feel happy, complete and reassured. But for pete’s sake, don’t marry him because you “love” him.