new bra from victoria secret! :)
A woman stands in her bedroom. She is with her attractive male lover. The air is filled with desire. They both look into each other’s eyes. The female, with a slightly bashful smile, takes off her clothes, starting with the pants first, and finally the shirt. She is wearing the bra. The man’s eyes opened wider in interest. His interest is peaked. The woman strutted closer to him, her eyes batting and her smile growing. She leans into his ear and with a breathy voice, she spoke:
I graduate in three days, I pay my own bills, I have a car, and I’m reading fanfiction about a lettuce bra.
It has a little lettuce bow.
I’ve been laughing for 7 minutes oh my god
PLEASE READ, POSSIBLE VIRUS GOING AROUND
Okay, so this is the 2nd time that I’ve gotten this message. At first I was like “Oh yeah its just someone who’s trying to get themselves promoted or something but then I got this again and it doesn’t seem right because they changed their name to Victoria suddenly??? When I first got it it was Nathaly but this could be a virus I have no clue, I never went to the website or their tumblr because I don’t want to get any possible viruses on my computer so I might be wrong but just in case please reblog it because I don’t want anyone to get any viruses. If I’m wrong then please tell me and I’ll take this down but for now please reblog this, thank you!
UPDATE: Yeah it’s virus blogs. I’ve gotten them from two different people and their title was the same. One was “Beautiful Landscapes” and the other was “Beautiful Tattoos” and so yeah reblog this really fast before anyone gets the virus ok thanks again. The first blog that sent me this was zinokmass so watch out for zinokmass and labagaww thank you guys so much ignore the message if you get it
Viruses are bad. It is generally against the TOS of web hosts to host them. If you see a shady site and you can make certain that you won’t get a virus from it, you can try to find their hosting service and get it shut down. If it’s hosted on their own server, you can submit a claim to their name provider.
But really don’t bother if you don’t know what you’re doing.
I didn’t get any cake yesterday cause apparently my dad was still working on it.
He brought it to school today and I’m just-
is all of that
wtf i think your dad just defied the law of physics and pastries
i love blue pikachu
sure you can nickname your pokemon whatever you want
Dogs Playing Fruit Ninja
i don’t get why we need driver’s training. driving is just like mario kart except slower and you can’t throw blue shells at people
please never drive
Elsa got arrested
This is amazing.
let me go
let me go
I HOPE THIS HELPS. <3
I am not very good at tutorials, but I tried. ;u;
(Edit: OK EVERYTHING IS FINE NOW)
SpongeBob, where’s my order?
Did you look under the tray?
Oh. No I didn’t, sorry.
PewDiePie Reacts To Elders React To PewDiePie
Not really even a fan of PewDiePie but hot damn the last two are incredible
Anon. I’m going to share something personal with you today. And with all of tumblr, too.
Do you see this photo?
This is one of the few photos I have left of my mother and I. And the only one that’s digital, too.
I was about four years old in that photo. Shortly after that photo was taken, I was placed into foster care because of my mother’s mental conditions and her inability to care for me. Which was fine, it was the right thing to do.
She was taken overseas to a very good mental health clinic in Paris, which is where we came from.
My mother had a lot of problems. Among them were her multiple personality disorder and her bipolar. She stayed in hospital for most of my life, and battled depression and her suicidal tendencies. She went through a lot, including electro-shock therapy. Nothing seemed to help. She was a very lost and very hurt woman.
And one day, on Mother’s Day of 2008, my foster parents received a phone call at about 1am from the mental hospital my mother was staying in.
My mother had hung herself in the shower of her bathroom. Her mental illnesses, her lack of access to me and the things she’d suffered through her life had snapped her. And she was gone.
I was thirteen years old. Nobody told me until the sun had risen. I left my room, ready for school. And then I was sat down, and I was told.
And I was numb.
I felt nothing, for months. Months, and months, and months.
I was a very good student at school. I got distinctions, and straight A’s. And all of that kind of just… stopped.
The full extent of my loss didn’t hit me until years later, when I was sixteen.
And it hasn’t stopped hurting since.
I miss my mother every day. I barely got to know her, but I knew she loved me. And I ache every time I see someone walk by with their parents, or a little girl with her mother. It’s even cost me several relationships. It hurts. I can’t take it. Can’t do it.
You know the kind of woman my mother was? Kind. Smart. Thoughtful. She was a painter, and a lover of music. We lived in Australia when I was growing up, but she always loved France. In fact, it was her name. I recall my foster mother’s comment when she met her for the first time when she came back to Australia to visit me. She said how talking to my mother was like talking to your best friend. One you hadn’t seen in years. The joy in her voice, her smile.
I can’t even remember what she sounds like anymore.
Suicide? I’ve wanted to do it. Several times. It’s been tempting. Pressure builds inside your chest, and you can’t cry anymore. You feel nothing and it’s clearly just logical to end it because there’s no point living in a void anymore.
You feel like there’s no one else out there for you. You’re alone, and nobody understands.
Anon, let me tell you.
I understand. I’ve seen both sides of this coin. Nobody wins.
I know what it’s like to want to not exist. I spend half my days pretending to be mechanical because being human and alive is just too much of a burden sometimes. But I also know what it feels like to be left behind.
After the loss of my mother, I lost three more people to suicide. One was my uncle, and two others were good friends. One of them was one of my best friend.
I don’t know who you are, Anon. But I’d like to.
I’d like to know who you are so I can stop you from feeling this way. You’re not alone. And if you are? I’ll be the first to open my arms to you.
Death is not an answer, nor by any means a door to something greater.
Death is for those who have finished in this life. We are not meant to go before our time, and especially not alone.
I’m nineteen now. If my mother were still alive, she’d be thirty-eight.
It’s too young.
You’re too young.
To you, anon, and to everyone else out there who’s ever felt this way.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Come to me, if you have to.
Go to someone. Anyone. Please.
You’re so much more than a statistic.
You’re worth so much more than tears.
You mean so much more than every person who has ever stamped you into the ground. Called you names. Failed to accept you because you don’t fit into their criteria of human. Spurned you, or ignored you.
I know this pain. And I know what happens when that pain consumes you.
Please. Don’t go.
I don’t know you. But your life means something.
I promise it means something.
My dad forced me to take this picture of him drinking Starbucks and giving me a peace sign because he wants to be tumblr famous please reblog this so he feels cool
congrats dad u did it
omg I went to the supermarket and bought this today.
NOW I CAN HAVE MY FAVOURITE HEROES ALL OVER MY BODY
WHAT DO THEY SMELL LIKE
Strawberries and FREEDOM.