why the fuck does everyone in the purge movies want to kill people if crime was legal i’d find a way to erase my student debt and also probably steal a bunch of new clothes
*tries to look at tumblr next to my mom*
PORN PORN PORN Artsy Flower PORN PORN
this needs to stop
Artist Recreates Childhood Scribbles as Digital Illustrations Over 20 Years Later
We’ve seen an artist who collaborated with her 4-year-old daughter, transforming her random sketches and scribbles into fully realized artworks. With another take on the child/adult collaborative art genre, Dutch muralist Telmo Pieper did something similar, instead collaborating with his 4-year-old self in his series called Kiddie Arts. The artist took old childhood sketches which he then recreated as digital illustrations by applying realistic light, color, and texture to the hilariously deformed shapes he imagined in his youth. You can see much more of Pieper’s work on his website and Tumblr. He also collaborates with artist Miel Krutzmann as part of Telmo Miel out of Rotterdam. (via Bored Panda, Laughing Squid)
Clouds are weird yo.
What’s weird? The top one opens out, and there’s rain, and the mountain has a tiered hat like Devo, and the bottom one is beaming up Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. Do I have to explain everything?
TRIS WILL YOU KNOCK IT OFF WE KNOW LIGHTSBRIDGE EXAMS SUCK GOD
::cackles madly:: No, no, no, dear heart, you haven’t heard the news! Tris is going under an assumed name, to get her certificate as an ordinary mage! And Tim Gunn will be her advisor!!
This post was cool then nerds happened now I’m just confused
Sex is not a goddamn performance. Sex should feel as natural as drinking water. It should not require confidence.
Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe. Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.
You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh. It’s not about being good in bed. It’s about being happy.
One should never worry if they’re doing it correctly. Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.
What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you. Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.
Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be. I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.
I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want. It’s originality. It’s passion. It’s joy. Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.
I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.
Good in bed. What? You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you. Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel. This isn’t a test.