Hello My Friend!

Oh my God I just found all of my Pokemon games after literally half a year thinking they were lost I'm so happy

thursday needs a meme, here’s my attempt to contribute. it’s thursday and i’m here to help. thanks

My brain coming home from school: ah yes, the family: mom, dad, the grey fuzzy small-headed baby with a tail on mom's lap, the other black and white fluffy small headed baby with a tail lying on the floor. Yup, the gang's all here!

I've lived with cats my entire life, and so I think it's funny when I look at my cat and my brain's like "you mean that's NOT a four-legged person?"

Had a dream where my cats started multiplying. Like I go upstairs, my cat Arrow's in the bathroom. I look over, Arrow's in my doorway. I look back, there are 2 Arrows in my bathroom. My other cat Marigold gets involved. They begin covering every floor surface. I figure it's a hallucination as Arrows begin stacking on top of each other. All in the same lying position, all staring at me was calm, fearless eyes, making me feel nothing.

I go downstairs again and get my parents.

I lost 30 braincells painting this with nail polish

It was worth it

i don’t know why anyone has to feel insecure about their bodies, when objectively, humans are all freakish horrors. Every last one of us. Hairless, fleshy, gangly beasts walking upright straight as a tree with bony tentacles on the ends of our limbs. 

you have a hole in your face full of sharp bones and you’re worried that your belly is a little squishy 

Don’t get your sex ed from fanfiction!

Get it from

Scarleteen

I might actually draw this ngl

Bonus if Amethyst (or someone who gets it now) keeps telling Dora to go into the alligator-infested waters, angering every believer around her

I JUST REALIZED EVERY SINGLE FUCKING GEM WOULD BELIEVE DORA THE EXPLORER COULD ACTUALLY LISTEN TO THEM.

IM JUST IMAGINING YELLOW AGGRESSIVELY LECTURING DORA ON WHAT TO DO, BECAUSE IT HAS TO GO PERFECTLY, BUT SHES DUMB AS SHIT

“I want to speak to a manager,” the middle-aged woman said in her stern I-used-to-be-a-soccer-mom-ten-years-ago voice, looking down at me over the top of her Gucci reading glasses.

A wicked grin split across my face and the gates of Hell opened up behind me, releasing a gust of hot wind that whipped my apron around my body and forced the woman to shield her face. Demons came forth, dancing around in flames with songs of, “She wants to speak to a manager. Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager!” before erupting into earsplitting shrieks of laughter, none louder than my own cackling.

I took in the woman’s look of utter horror before my eyes rolled back into my head and I growled,

“I am the manager.”