blxckbiird:

spaghetti-western-wannabe:

blxckbiird:

spaghetti-western-wannabe:

blxckbiird:

spaghetti-western-wannabe:

blxckbiird:

spaghetti-western-wannabe:

So I can either bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

nick nO THAT’S NOT HOW YOU BAKE COOKIES FRIEND

FLOOR IT?

NICK NO

HOW ABOUT 4,000,000 DEGREES FOR 1 SECOND

NICK YOU ARE GOING TO BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN

I’M GOING TO HARNESS THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES

NICK P L E A S E

source
I’ve discovered there’s a lot you can do inside haunted houses.

fictionalfeather:

For example, you can:

  • be in a shampoo commercial

image

  • start a boy band:

image

  • spot some choice booty:

image

  • break into song:

image

  • see some people in frankly offensive outfits:

image

  • attend a metal show:

image

  • listen to some sick jams:

image

  • discover zombieism:

image

  • sample some tasty snacks:

image

  • watch someone get burned bad:

image

  • find something you really like:

image

  • find something you really, really like:

image

  • find something you REALLY REALLY LIKE:

image

  • and wonder if you left the stove on:

image

source

leadfeathers:

geekerypokery:

jeremymcbitchin:

Imagine having braces during the apocalypse. no one can take your braces off. And you just have to accept that you’ll have braces forever.

i want a novel focused around a character with braces during the apocalypse and the entire plot of the story revolves around their search for an orthodontist who is still alive and they sort of accidentally save the world in the process

Titled: Brace for It.

source
Me: *out for dinner with my dad because we were too lazy to cook*
Random Old Lady: *comes up out of no where with the most judgmental look ever* (will also be refereed to as 'ROL')
ROL: Isn't he a little old for you?
Me: Well, considering he's my Dad, I'd say that your a judgmental hag.
Dad: *chokes into his drink*
ROL: You should respect your elders.
Me: You should respect your youth, we're the ones who'll decide on whether or not to pull your cord in like, what? Five weeks?
Dad: *chokes on his drink again*
ROL: *storms off*
Dad: *looks at me with a disapproving look*
Me: What?
Dad: Come on, you and I both know it will be three weeks.
source