opentheairforfreshwindows:

brave-fart:

brave-fart:

brave-fart:

brave-fart:

brave-fart:

brave-fart:

brave-fart:

brave-fart:

did you hear about the italian chef who died?

he pasta way

he just ran out of thyme

here today, gone tomato

his wife is still upset, cheese still not over it

we never sausage a tragedy coming

ashes to ashes, crust to crust

there’s just not mushroom for italian chefs in today’s world

spaghetti

tylervadas:

Lacrosse keeps me sane
Along with a ridiculously amount of music.
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rosefire:

gaywitch-practisingabortion:

situationalstudent:

purplespacecats:

professorbutterscotch:

kiskolee:

THIS.

I have never thought about it in this context
that’s actually really, really creepy.

I… fuck.

Yeah, basically.

I once pointed this out to my mother and she just stared at me, in stunned silence for ages. 

There will always be a girl who is less sober, less secure, with less friends walking in a darker part of town. I want her safe just as much as I want me safe.
inebriating:

Derrick, circa 2001
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