Untitled

diogonen:

MUSHISHI SPECIAL OVA PV

markrosewater:

"Tales from the Pit" #668

markrosewater:

"Tales from the Pit" #668

D&D Stats Explained with Tomatoes

corruptionpoints:

mindchildofmadness submits:

Strength is being able to crush a tomato.

Dexterity is being able to dodge a tomato.

Constitution is being able to eat a bad tomato.

Intelligence is knowing a tomato is a fruit.

Wisdom is knowing not to put a tomato in a fruit salad.

Charisma is being able to sell a tomato based fruit salad.

(Source)

dragonsroar:

2007excalibur2007:

phintasticpony:

cuddlepone:

megidoplasma:

FUCKING HELL

ISTG THIS SHOULDN’T EVEN BE HUMANLY POSSIBLE

wow

fuck launchpads

Mindblown

fucking touhou fans

troll-bridge:

freeteddybearhugs:

3ridan:

do you ever look around at the big crowds of people around you and realize everyone has a story and memories and family and troubles and achievements and a first kiss and a broken heart but you’ll never know any of it and every human life is really intricate and expansive but oh they’ve walked into a shop and you’ll never see them again and you’ll never know just what they were thinking 

I think about this a lot

There’s a word for this:

image

damaged927:

Where is Waldo? by sunimu

thecrampedwitch:

soloontherocks:

bellonanj73:

the-writers-ramblings:

i cant even make it past the table of contents im laughing too hard

What book is this? I must have this because of reasons? 

friends don’t let friends bang cows

The book is Zeus Grants Stupid Wishes: A No-Bullshit Guide to World Mythology by Cory O’Brien (link to amazon) and it’s written by the dude who does better myths if you want to read some of his stuff

jojomenon:

Clint Eastwood and Hirohiko Araki.

He says, “Dude, here’s the deal. I’m here. Don’t worry about it. I’m here.” [x]

abalidoth:

captaintwerkirk:

Well then it’s a good thing I hate sports *slams button*

The year is 2027. It is Super Bowl season. The football players that have been selected for this year’s culling huddle in a sad, discontented mass in the middle of an overgrown stadium. The stink of fear mingles with the smell of fresh earth, an unholy bouquet for a terrible day.
Then they begin arriving, singly and in groups. Their claws glint in the harsh stadium lights, and there is blood matted into their fur. The football players put on their game face, but the hollowness of their eyes betrays their true hopelessness. There is no use fighting, other than to make a brave showing.
After all, everyone knows the bears always win.

What happens when someone writes about a fictional team that beats the Bears?

abalidoth:

captaintwerkirk:

Well then it’s a good thing I hate sports *slams button*

The year is 2027. It is Super Bowl season. The football players that have been selected for this year’s culling huddle in a sad, discontented mass in the middle of an overgrown stadium. The stink of fear mingles with the smell of fresh earth, an unholy bouquet for a terrible day.

Then they begin arriving, singly and in groups. Their claws glint in the harsh stadium lights, and there is blood matted into their fur. The football players put on their game face, but the hollowness of their eyes betrays their true hopelessness. There is no use fighting, other than to make a brave showing.

After all, everyone knows the bears always win.

What happens when someone writes about a fictional team that beats the Bears?