ive been livetweeting my pjo reread so i haven’t been posting much abt it here but please god look at this. hades, a millennia-old deity, covering his ears as his small gay italian son flaps his arms around and yells at him
It’s days like this that I like to remember that the Irish government are ever proud of the Spire of Dublin.
It’s literally a 400 ft metal spike sticking out of the ground. It was supposed to be done for the new millennium but they didn’t start building it until 2002.
And it’s supposed to be self-cleaning but it doesn’t work and there’s no way to clean it.
not to mention it’s ‘unofficial name’
the erection at the intersection
He was honestly the only normal character in the whole movie.
OKAY SO I’M GONNA DROP A STORY ON Y’ALL
MY FOLLOWERS KNOW THAT I’M PRETTY UNIQUE LOOKING
I HAVE A GNARLY UNDERCUT, A SHORT HAIRCUT, AND AS OF YESTERDAY MY HAIR IS BRIGHT PURPLE, AND I TEND TO WEAR CLOTHES OF THE ALL-BLACK-SHORT-SKIRTS-THIGH-HIGHS-INTIMIDATING-HEAD-BITCH-IN-CHARGE VARIETY
MY FOLLOWERS ALSO KNOW THAT I HAVE A RAD LITTLE THREE-YEAR-OLD SON NAMED OLIVER WHO IS MY WORLD
ONE DAY, OLIVER AND I WERE AT THE STORE, AND WE WERE WALKING PAST THE CEREAL, SINGING A SONG TOGETHER AND OVERALL JUST BEING CUTE BECAUSE WE’RE FUCKING ADORABLE, AND THIS MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN WAS WALKING THE OTHER WAY WITH HER HUSBAND AND DAUGHTER. I’M USED TO PEOPLE STARING AT ME, ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING I WAS ROCKING BLUE HAIR AND A OUIJA BOARD SHIRT AND A HELLA CUTE VELVET MINISKIRT THIS SPECIFIC DAY, SO I IGNORED HER GLARING AT ME AND CONTINUED ON LOOKING AT THE PANDA PUFFS
THEN I STARTED HEARING HER MUTTER UNDER HER BREATH ABOUT ME, SAYING STUFF LIKE, “Irresponsible teen mom couldn’t keep her legs closed” AND, “Her son is going to be so messed up because she has absolutely no self-respect”
NORMALLY I JUST LET IT GO, BUT THAT DAY OLIVER AND I WERE SINGING THE SHINS SO I WAS IN A REALLY GOOD MOOD AND FELT CONFIDENT, SO I STOPPED MY CART AND SAID, “Excuse me, did you say something?”. SHE KINDA STARTED BLUSHING AND SAID NO, TO WHICH I REPLIED, “Well, it seems you kinda did say something. Something about me being irresponsible and not having respect for myself?” AND THIS WOMAN WAS BRIGHT RED AT THIS AND HER HUSBAND WAS JUST TRYNA HURRY HER ALONG AT THAT POINT BUT I HELLA WAS NOT GONNA LET HER GET AWAY WITH SHIT TALKING ME SO I SAID, “You know, I do respect myself. I have my hair like this because I respect myself enough to do it and have the confidence to pull it off, and I dress like this because I respect the fact that I have killer legs that I don’t want to hide just because some old crows glare at me over it. My self-respect has nothing to do with my parenting ability, but if it did, I’d say it’s been a positive correlation because my son is respectful of everyone and doesn’t judge people based on their appearances. He knows that people look how they do because that’s just how they want to look, and that’s how all three-year-olds are until they get to the age where they see the fact that their parents are scowling at a girl who has bright hair, or a boy who wears a skirt, and that’s the age where they become insufferable assholes like you.” AND LET ME JUST SAY THIS WOMAN’S JAW DROPPED FASTER THAN THE TRIX BOX SHE WAS HOLDING AS I FUCKIN SASHAYED OUT WITH MY PANDA PUFFS AND CARRIED ON SINGING~*~*~
//you’re my hero
I saw my soulmate from a distance in a cafe but he ran away before I could get his number/address/a piece of his shirt to smell at night. I drew him so if any of you see him, get in touch. This is me being sad because I get the feeling I’ll never see him again. :-/
Those people who constantly reblog your stuff but you never really talk:
I do notice my regulars. You guys are the best.
"Regulars" makes me feel like a bar-tender…
Wiping down my dash at the end of an evening, I see your read-more, over-hear your rant in the tags, so I pour you a drink.
"…what’s troubling you, kid?"
But why the last one though
what am I not getting
I can’t breath…I have not laughed this hard in years
Okay, quick story about the last one- I go to this school too, and the creative writing teacher is rad as hell (like the kind to give out free coffee on fridays)
After all of the kids have submitted their short stories, he reads them all for the first time to his two kids, who help him grade them, in a way.
One time, a girl wrote a story about a sheep, named Trixie, making her dream come true by moving to the big city to become an actress, a singer, or whatever (he was pretty vague on the description)
She took a bus and a few trains and finally ended up in the ‘Big City’, where she tries to make her dream come true.
Now I dont remember the exact sequence of events that came next, but Trixie the sheep eventually ended up becoming a prostitute mid-sentence.
Our teacher didnt really realize this at the time, since it was his first time reading it, and to his kids he was caught completely off guard. And lets just say he had to explain a few new concepts to his kids that night..
And that’s why we can’t write any more stories about Trixie going to the Big City.
THIS IS ART
- Annabeth taking the SAT’s five times with extended time and large print format before getting scores she’s happy with
- Annabeth refusing to listen to her school counselors “advice” that “college may not be for her.”
- Annabeth telling off teachers who say…