Hey there, my name is jeni. I'm Aussie Message me anytime, I'm nice despite what megadownesy says about me. As you tell by the title, I just reblog shit. It's mostly homestuck, welcome to nightvale, supernatural and just tins of British shows. So enjoy my blog darling, have fun dear <3

23rd September 2014

Question reblogged from ~What even is Tumblr?~ with 16,650 notes

Anonymous said: please elaborate on how you got a substitute teacher to quit within one day. I'm genuinely curious.

mysticmoonhigh:

mamalovebone:

all right everyone sit down, shut up and listen closely because I’m about to tell y’all the tale of Ms. Mormino.

Seventh grade is a time most people don’t look back on fondly. I know I sure don’t—I tend to regard that era as nothing more than an unpleasant, acne-filled haze of fall out boy and poor attempts at pseudo-zooey deschanel fashions. But enough about me. Let’s talk about my math teacher. 

Ms. Isom. Poor old Ms. Isom. Well in her 60’s, always plagued with some illness or injury, she was hardly ever even at school. Since many of her absences were the result of short-notice incidents—“falling down the stairs” was popularly cited— it wasn’t all that uncommon to not have a substitute on hand. Being a smartass honors class, we’d gotten away with several successful evasions of administration, walking cavalierly into class  to pass the next 48 minutes doing just about nothing. Hell, for good measure, we’d sometimes even toss in a friendly “hey, Ms. Isom!” if any administrators were anywhere within earshot. So incredibly anti-establishment, you could basically call it another Project Mayhem, except instead of Brad Pitt and Ed Norton concocting homemade bombs, it was a bunch of tweenyboppers with iPhone 3’s and Justin Bieber 2009 haircuts. 

 We got pretty accustomed to our own little self-governing system that rolled around every second period, so we naturally weren’t exactly thrilled when administration caught on to our little Anarchy Act and strictly enforced the presence of a substitute every day. 

Most of our subs weren’t terrible—most were friendly, gave us participation grades, and didn’t object to the independent attitude of our class (which, mind you, only had about ten students in it) 

That is, until Ms. Mormino came along. 

Four feet, ten inches of raw, undiluted evil, Ms. Mormino walked into class with a scowl on her face and a chip on her shoulder. When the girl behind me sneezed, Ms. Mormino’s immediate response was “NO INAPPROPRIATE NOISES!” 

 Although we all suppressed our laughter, we all knew from that moment on that, try as she might with her despotism and her draconian anti-sneeze policy, Ms. Mormino didn’t stand a chance. 

 The arguable beginning of the end for Ms. Mormino’s all-too-brief reign of terror was the moment I asked for a calculator; mine was broken. Mormino asserted that I could only borrow a calculator if I loaned her something of mine; at that moment, the girl next to me chimed in, saying she, too, needed a calculator. “I have a folder I can give you,” I offered. “I have a highlighter,” added the other girl. 

 At that moment, a puberty-creaking voice from the back of the room piped up. 

Max. 

We all know certain people have certain gifts. Michelangelo saw angels in every block of marble and devoted his life to setting them free; Einstein had a mind which saw the potential of the entire universe; F. Scott Fitzgerald wove intricate tales of decadence and depravity. Max, however, had a different kind of gift: he could make anything—anything at all—into a “that’s what she said” joke. More on that later, though. 

Max pried off a Nike sneaker and held it proudly in the air, like a coveted trophy. 

"I have a shoe." 

Tottering in one-shoe-one-sock, Max dumped the sneaker on Ms. Mormino’s desk, retrieved a calculator, then tottered back to his own desk, a sort of smirk playing on his face. And, as to be expected—the rest of us quickly followed suit. 

 A small pile of shoes on her desk, Ms. Mormino grit her teeth and glared at us as we all sat back down, quietly victorious, a calculator in each of our hands. It wasn’t long, however, until we all began to silently plot our next act of minor mayhem. 

"Can I go to the bathroom?" asked Tyler, who, despite being in seventh grade, was approaching his sixteenth birthday. In a combination of verism and admiration of Tyler’s devil-may-care boldness, we unequivocally accepted him as our leader. For reasons unknown, Ms. Mormino denied his request. Tyler, much like his Fight Club namesake, heeded no rules but his own and left anyway—Ms. Mormino, furious, locked the door behind him and smugly insisted that "administration will take care of him." 

Tyler, however, was not one to be caught, and stayed close by, appearing in the window of the door whenever Ms. Mormino wasn’t looking. Waving, smiling, laughing, making faces and obscene gestures, Tyler had us all in stitches, but cleverly avoided Ms. Mormino’s sight—when she asked us what was so funny, we all refused to give Tyler away. 

A girl asked to go to the bathroom, stating she “really really really” needed to go. Ms. Mormino, again, denied her request. Ms. Mormino, however, seemed to be uninformed about the side door—leading right outside, always locked from the outside but always open from the inside. 

"Well, I’ll go myself," the girl responded, and took off, hurdling three desks and darting out the door. Right behind her, two other students took off, pursuing freedom. The door slammed behind all three students, and they were gone. 

 Six of us were left. Among us, importantly, was Chris. 

Chris was thirteen, but looked half his age; scrawny, wiry, he probably measured in at about four-foot-three, but no taller. “Late Bloomer” are words that come to mind. 

Despite his diminutive size, Chris possessed the gall of someone like Tyler.

"I have to use the bathroom," said Chris, standing. 

 ”Do you think I’m going to allow you to go to the bathroom?” snapped Ms. Mormino. 

 ”It’s an emergency!” Chris pleaded. 

"Sit down," Ms. Mormino growled. 

Meanwhile, the entire class borders on hysteria. We have tears in our eyes, almost suffocating from choking back laughter. 

"It’s an emergency," repeated Chris, but it sounded more like a warning.

"Sit."

Silence. Silence, Silence and more silence, until we all began to notice a dark stain on Chris’s khakis. The stain grew. And grew. And grew.

 Fists at his sides, stoicism in his face, and a cold, proud, triumphant glint in his eye, Chris locked eye contact with Ms. Mormino. 

And pissed right in his pants. 

The entire class erupted into a laugh only comparable to the detonation of a bomb. 

We laughed so hard for the next five, ten, fifteen minutes straight that Ms. Mormino gave up. Surrendering, putting her head on her desk, she waited until the hysteria finally subsided. 

Finally looking up, defeated, pathetic, Ms. Mormino glared at us all and wailed: 

 ”This is too much, this is too hard, too hard, Jesus Christ, this is too much for me!” 

 A lone voice sounded from the back of the room. Guess whose it was.

"That’s what she said."

Ms. Mormino officially retired from teaching that afternoon.

FUCKING READ IT IT’S WORTH IT

Source: mamalovebone

23rd September 2014

Post reblogged from LONAF: Land of Neon and Frogs with 5,932 notes

dave-motherfucking-strider:

rnysterie:

*whispers* apple *shouts at the heavens* juice. apple juice

image

i think i just heard my mating call

Source: rnysterie

23rd September 2014

Post reblogged from Magnifica with 304,069 notes

The internet is so convenient

pirouette-off-the-fucking-handle:

glowingelephant:

slayingdarkness-withbelief:

siempre-chill:

image

omg i knew what the fuck should i make for dinner but this post is great times 100 omg

Holy fuck I never have to wonder for anything ever again.

Source: siempre-chill

23rd September 2014

Link reblogged from Ne Ne HOLY SHIT with 213 notes

Important message to all cosplayers. →

stoned-levi:

If you’re sick of spending a ridiculous amount of money on cosplay, or if you’re sick of never cosplaying at all because of money, use aliexpress for the rest of your weeb days.

It’s this wholesale website and it’s actually really fucking reliable. I’ve ordered shit from here before, and yo, it…

Source: stoned-levi

22nd September 2014

Audio post reblogged from RhymeLawliet with 481,591 notes - Played 2,079,675 times

walrusdakid:

strawberrybudikai:

itsonlythefairytale:


The beginning of I Write Sins Not Tragedies slowed down and layered over The Ballad of Mona Lisa

image

Oh my god

Oh my god

image

Well that took all of 2 seconds for me to hit the reblog button.

ohmydearsweetbabyjesus

Source: hellkatsally

22nd September 2014

Video reblogged from The Worst Blog Ever. Of All Time. with 78,167 notes

mindpalaceofjam:

samwinchstr:

icoulduseinsouciantmaybe:

heysammy:

omg someone made a spn video to awolnation’s “sail”
and it’s perfect

image

#I feel like I should show this to people to get them to watch SPN

whoever made this…. iloveyou

Dhfsyefhdrhkvfr!!!!! THIS IS ACTUALLY PERFECT!!!

Source: youtube.com

22nd September 2014

Post reblogged from tolkien appreciation blog with 782,616 notes

vvhitehouse:

aneastcoastbreeze:

vvhitehouse:

advantages to wearing oversized sweaters:

  • instant cute outfit with minimal effort
  • it enhances the coziness when u drink hot beverages
  • sweater paws are guaranteed to make u feel 43% more adorable
  • u can unbutton ur jeans and no one will know

disadvantages to wearing oversized sweaters:

Guys think they’re totally not cute lol

the day i dress for a man is the day they dress me in my coffin to see jesus

Source: vvhitehouse

22nd September 2014

Photoset reblogged from Hi!...Stranger with 179,086 notes

thefrankiieffect:

biojason:

notpatrick-thatsforsure:

downcomethewallsofjericho:

koschei-the-ginger:

lizthefangirl:

the-apple-pie-was-worth-it:

How to properly break the 4th wall

this is my movie

NO SERIOUSLY THIS MOVIE WAS THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED

seriously, you should watch it

WHAT MOVIE IS IT?

robin hood, men it tights

it’s a mel brooks film, so it’s the same guy who did blazing saddles and spaceballs.

People practically every Mel Brooks movie breaks the fourth wall that’s the end of the movies half of the time and that’s why I love it so much, because Mel Brooks does whatever the heck he wants.

"Because unlike other Robin Hoods, I have an English accent."

Source: engad

22nd September 2014

Photoset reblogged from Hi!...Stranger with 67,197 notes

oxblivxn:

SHOUTOUT TO EVERYONE TAKING A STAND AGAINST SAM PEPPER

Source: oxblivxn

22nd September 2014

Post reblogged from Hi!...Stranger with 13,002,810 notes

reblog if your vagina glows in the dark

Source: naniithran