protowilson:

betterbemeta:

This tea is awful. It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t believe that lazy shit idyllic pastoral landscape on the goddamn cardboard box. It’s a damn lie and if you drink this tea you’ll know the heart of minty darkness
Like OK I appreciate that it tries to prepare you for whats inside by a cute picture on the box. Fresh green mint leaves, and some candy cane sticks to get you in that shitty assfaced Christmas mood. Look it’s even tied with a repugnant little red bow. fuck this tea.
So if you open the box and immediately steep a cup prepare to get one of those cute lil candy canes up your FUCKING NOSE and in your FUCKING EYES because this shit doesn’t know personal space in the same way a demon from hell doesn’t know a loving God.
I hope you like drinking your throat lozenges because here’s a blistering stream an actual menthol golem would piss down your fucking throat while you gag on its candy-striped wiener. 
So you lock this shit in a box for 3 months while you recover from the worst toothpaste-flavored blowjob of your life and maybe get yourself together again. You recover. You move on. Things are looking pretty up and you think back, well maybe that godforsaken tea didn’t really taste like a peppermint Siberia. So you make a cup like the foolish piece of shit you are
and you’re right, but so wrong about the character and nature of your mistake you might as well star in Greek tragedy. You pathetic bag of bollocks.
because in the months its been locked in a top-shelf tomb the life and vehement mint-based hatred for the physical world has withered and desiccated out of its soulless teabag husks.
Now what you have got in your fucking unfortunate mug is a hot steaming cup of fuck you that tastes like the inside of the birch tree on the fucking box, or maybe Santa’s tears mixed with mummy dust, or midwinter leaf litter a vaguely minty dog only rolled in once.
The aftertaste stinks of wax. Why wax? Because it wants to remind you that you’re the kid who ate birthday candles in first grade, that’s why. And every single other bad decision you now regret.
fuck this tea. fuck it, it tastes like a hollow  mannequin of a tea, hot leaf swill unfit to fertilize even fake fucking flowers.Maybe you could tan leather in it. I don’t fucking know but get it away from me and the human race. Fucking shoot it at the moon where it belongs with all of the other celestial fucking seasonings. fuck

I never thought I’d reblog a tea review but here we are.

protowilson:

betterbemeta:

This tea is awful. It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t believe that lazy shit idyllic pastoral landscape on the goddamn cardboard box. It’s a damn lie and if you drink this tea you’ll know the heart of minty darkness

Like OK I appreciate that it tries to prepare you for whats inside by a cute picture on the box. Fresh green mint leaves, and some candy cane sticks to get you in that shitty assfaced Christmas mood. Look it’s even tied with a repugnant little red bow. fuck this tea.

So if you open the box and immediately steep a cup prepare to get one of those cute lil candy canes up your FUCKING NOSE and in your FUCKING EYES because this shit doesn’t know personal space in the same way a demon from hell doesn’t know a loving God.

I hope you like drinking your throat lozenges because here’s a blistering stream an actual menthol golem would piss down your fucking throat while you gag on its candy-striped wiener. 

So you lock this shit in a box for 3 months while you recover from the worst toothpaste-flavored blowjob of your life and maybe get yourself together again. You recover. You move on. Things are looking pretty up and you think back, well maybe that godforsaken tea didn’t really taste like a peppermint Siberia. So you make a cup like the foolish piece of shit you are

and you’re right, but so wrong about the character and nature of your mistake you might as well star in Greek tragedy. You pathetic bag of bollocks.

because in the months its been locked in a top-shelf tomb the life and vehement mint-based hatred for the physical world has withered and desiccated out of its soulless teabag husks.

Now what you have got in your fucking unfortunate mug is a hot steaming cup of fuck you that tastes like the inside of the birch tree on the fucking box, or maybe Santa’s tears mixed with mummy dust, or midwinter leaf litter a vaguely minty dog only rolled in once.

The aftertaste stinks of wax. Why wax? Because it wants to remind you that you’re the kid who ate birthday candles in first grade, that’s why. And every single other bad decision you now regret.

fuck this tea. fuck it, it tastes like a hollow  mannequin of a tea, hot leaf swill unfit to fertilize even fake fucking flowers.Maybe you could tan leather in it. I don’t fucking know but get it away from me and the human race. Fucking shoot it at the moon where it belongs with all of the other celestial fucking seasonings. fuck

I never thought I’d reblog a tea review but here we are.

(via kickingshoes)

(Source: leepace-daily, via christianslater)

girllookitthatbody-ahh:

lifteatgetswole:

coffeeshine:

blueeyedmenace:

The walking dead// Rick Grimes dad jokes

I SHOULDN’T LAUGH AT THIS BUT OH LAWD

I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER LAUGHED THIS MUCH

I love these. iHop, Carl “you cut off his leg…”

(via deliciouspineapple)

imgengy:

i paid $150 for this textbook 

imgengy:

i paid $150 for this textbook 

(Source: magnezone, via king-in-yellow)

sjmillerart:

Queen Tina Belcher, first of her name.

sjmillerart:

Queen Tina Belcher, first of her name.

(via aspio)

theblackamericanprincess:

soradiesinkh3:

sigurrossgeller:

"people on benefits shouldn’t be having flatscreen TVs"

why what other kind of TVs do they make? its 2014, you can’t just pop into Argos and buy a 9 inch VCR combo

please sit down

LOL

YES. YES. YESSSSS.

(via king-in-yellow)

tetsuota:

lord help m ehelp me help me

(via king-in-yellow)

"

9:17 p.m. Earlier I said these mozzarella sticks taste like garbage. I would like to amend that statement. They taste worse than garbage. I would prefer to eat garbage, because then there would be the chance I would get to eat a bite of something good someone started to eat but couldn’t finish, or paper.

The water outside TGI Friday’s is black now.

9:23 p.m. I keep thinking I hear people say “Caity.” I write down in my notebook that I am “definitely hallucinating.”

I put my head near the table to write more and the scent of old marinara and burnt rubber fills my nostrils. I sit back up.

9:36 p.m. A waiter tries to give me another table’s Boneless Buffalo Wings. Do not tempt me, Satan.

"

My 14-Hour Search for the End of TGI Friday’s Endless Appetizers by Caity Weaver (via whitehilling)

(via mantzoukas)

youfilthycasual:

The score for the H&M pack was five, by the way. (source)

(Source: indykatya, via vesper-noir)

newcrystalcitysteel:

dennys:

welcome to dencon. on your birthday you get an extra hour in the pit.

jesus goddamn christ dennys

newcrystalcitysteel:

dennys:

welcome to dencon. on your birthday you get an extra hour in the pit.

jesus goddamn christ dennys

(via king-in-yellow)