Finders Keepers

For things I love.

22 Jul

iraffiruse:

The potatoes have escaped

22 Jul

melkior:

send hELP

22 Jul
  • person: so where did you learn html?
  • me: not.... neopets...
22 Jul

daggerpen:

thats-what-sidhe-said:

ittybittymanatee:

buddhistmamaduck:

There are so many Sam/Steve fics that mention or include Sam’s nieces and nephews. So many. And yet somehow we’ve managed to miss the obvious joke

Captain America is literally sitting there making eyes at Uncle Sam. And we missed it. Every time.

I’m wheezing.
This is so beautiful.

Uncle Sam’s real name was actually Samuel Wilson.

IT GOT BETTER

21 Jul vaspider:

scribbleowl:

vaspider:

geardrops:

bearhatalice:

missmonstermel:

robotsandfrippary:

dollsahoy:

mythosidhe:

erstwhilegirl:

natellite:

ladyofthelog:

clawfoottub:

theacheofmodernism:

GUYS I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING

That is so adorable.

TOO SOON

lole

oh no

*CACKLES*  Should we tell them?  Or just be indulgent and let the fantasy live on…?

Oh, this is just…sad.  So, so many kinds of…sad.

I’m DYING.
And I miss the tartan skirts too. 

You know how some people try to replicate past eras, wearing the fashion, collecting the old technology, etc? I just picture this one collecting mint condition Delia’s catalogs and “vintage” Snapple bottles and beepers.. ugh, the 90’s.

I am already dead

I’m just wondering what part of the 90s they’re talking about because uh midriff-revealing tops were totally The Shit in the 90s? I know because I was there?
Like…?

… they think punks didn’t cake on makeup?lololol

Oh my god since when isn’t Green Day a shitty, awful band that you should feel just as bad for liking as one does Justin Beiber?
Fuck Green Day. This is what I’m saying.
Also, have fun talking to your friend for 15 minutes before realizing your asshole brother picked up another line and has been listening to your conversation the whole time.
Or trying to get a call and hearing a horrible modem screech. And being horrified, knowing you just kicked someone in your friend’s house offline.
YOU COULD BE KICKED OFFLINE FOR RECEIVING A PHONE CALL IN THE 90S. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU KIDS SMOKING. CELL PHONES ARE THE SHIT.

No, no, no. Let me tell you a story. Green Day, eh, the music, whatever, eh, whatever.
But let me tell you a story.
I went to see a Green Day show in Bethlehem, PA, when I was 17, so, uh, like, 1994. Yeah, I’m dating myself. I was friends with the guys opening for them, a band called Weston, and I spent my only money aside from ticket cash on a Weston t-shirt.
Now. I was an avid, avid mosh pit girl, and being 5’9” and having a low center of gravity and being totally willing to throw elbows into dudes that used the pit as an excuse to grab tits and asses, I could usually hold my own.
That night, though? There were crowdsurfers who were targeting girls in the pit. Seriously. I got told later that after I got hit, they pulled down a dude who was not just accidentally hitting people, he was like, crowdsurfing, pulling his leg back, and KICKING girls (or people he perceived to be girls) in the HEAD.
I was one of the girls who got seriously fucking kicked in the head. I mean, CLOCKED in the back of the head. I blacked out, started pitching forward. The rest of the night is a series of flashes of light and darkness. I remember two guys yelling “MAKE A HOLE, MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN, MAKE A HOLE!” and dragging me out. I remember the EMTs shining lights in my eyes.
And then, while I was in the ambulance, I remember some dude leaning over me who DEFINITELY did not look like an EMT, with black hair and heavy black eyeliner. He asked me how I was feeling, and I said, “Eh, I’ll be fine tomorrow,” or I thought I did, I might have slurred heavily. Whatever he perceived, he grinned at me, and asked if I’d gotten a shirt. I said no, I only had enough for one shirt, so I bought from the local band. He grinned even bigger and said, “Don’t go anywhere.” 
As if I could.
He came back and handed me a t-shirt, told me I was tough and thanked me for coming to the show, apologized for the behavior of the dudes in the pit, and said that wasn’t the kind of show they wanted to have.
And that’s how I met Billie Joe Armstrong.
Tre stuck his head into the back of the ambulance and asked the EMTs if I was okay, but it’s not as cool of a story as how really cool Billie Joe was to me.

vaspider:

scribbleowl:

vaspider:

geardrops:

bearhatalice:

missmonstermel:

robotsandfrippary:

dollsahoy:

mythosidhe:

erstwhilegirl:

natellite:

ladyofthelog:

clawfoottub:

theacheofmodernism:

GUYS I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING

That is so adorable.

TOO SOON

lole

oh no

*CACKLES*  Should we tell them?  Or just be indulgent and let the fantasy live on…?

Oh, this is just…sad.  So, so many kinds of…sad.

I’m DYING.

And I miss the tartan skirts too. 

You know how some people try to replicate past eras, wearing the fashion, collecting the old technology, etc? I just picture this one collecting mint condition Delia’s catalogs and “vintage” Snapple bottles and beepers..
ugh, the 90’s.

I am already dead

I’m just wondering what part of the 90s they’re talking about because uh midriff-revealing tops were totally The Shit in the 90s? I know because I was there?

Like…?

… they think punks didn’t cake on makeup?

lololol

Oh my god since when isn’t Green Day a shitty, awful band that you should feel just as bad for liking as one does Justin Beiber?

Fuck Green Day. This is what I’m saying.

Also, have fun talking to your friend for 15 minutes before realizing your asshole brother picked up another line and has been listening to your conversation the whole time.

Or trying to get a call and hearing a horrible modem screech. And being horrified, knowing you just kicked someone in your friend’s house offline.

YOU COULD BE KICKED OFFLINE FOR RECEIVING A PHONE CALL IN THE 90S. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU KIDS SMOKING. CELL PHONES ARE THE SHIT.

No, no, no. Let me tell you a story. Green Day, eh, the music, whatever, eh, whatever.

But let me tell you a story.

I went to see a Green Day show in Bethlehem, PA, when I was 17, so, uh, like, 1994. Yeah, I’m dating myself. I was friends with the guys opening for them, a band called Weston, and I spent my only money aside from ticket cash on a Weston t-shirt.

Now. I was an avid, avid mosh pit girl, and being 5’9” and having a low center of gravity and being totally willing to throw elbows into dudes that used the pit as an excuse to grab tits and asses, I could usually hold my own.

That night, though? There were crowdsurfers who were targeting girls in the pit. Seriously. I got told later that after I got hit, they pulled down a dude who was not just accidentally hitting people, he was like, crowdsurfing, pulling his leg back, and KICKING girls (or people he perceived to be girls) in the HEAD.

I was one of the girls who got seriously fucking kicked in the head. I mean, CLOCKED in the back of the head. I blacked out, started pitching forward. The rest of the night is a series of flashes of light and darkness. I remember two guys yelling “MAKE A HOLE, MAN DOWN, MAN DOWN, MAKE A HOLE!” and dragging me out. I remember the EMTs shining lights in my eyes.

And then, while I was in the ambulance, I remember some dude leaning over me who DEFINITELY did not look like an EMT, with black hair and heavy black eyeliner. He asked me how I was feeling, and I said, “Eh, I’ll be fine tomorrow,” or I thought I did, I might have slurred heavily. Whatever he perceived, he grinned at me, and asked if I’d gotten a shirt. I said no, I only had enough for one shirt, so I bought from the local band. He grinned even bigger and said, “Don’t go anywhere.” 

As if I could.

He came back and handed me a t-shirt, told me I was tough and thanked me for coming to the show, apologized for the behavior of the dudes in the pit, and said that wasn’t the kind of show they wanted to have.

And that’s how I met Billie Joe Armstrong.

Tre stuck his head into the back of the ambulance and asked the EMTs if I was okay, but it’s not as cool of a story as how really cool Billie Joe was to me.

21 Jul

desidere:

petition to get this lucy liu in elementary re: mycroft holmes

21 Jul

gierlichmypussy:

you know that plot from halloweentown when everyone turns into their costume. yeah that actually happened.

21 Jul

realhayleyghoover:

dilemonade:

Nothing is simple in Rosewood, except that everyone is a rapist and everyone should shut their curtains. (x)

Omg, I love being gif’d.

21 Jul

(Source: rhamphotheca)

21 Jul

feathersofiron:

sadorapus:

candyredterezii:

people should just reply to anon hate with this

image

damn dude thats brutal

image

21 Jul

(Source: forassgard)

21 Jul

archiemcphee:

This awesome arboreal dwelling is the Living the High Life Tree House created by Blue Forest, a British tree house design and construction firm. It’s a luxury family-sized complex featuring two separate tree houses, one for kids and one for their parents. The elevated dwellings are connected by a network of rope bridges which also lead to an adventure play area and an assault course, the latter of which is also accessible via an 80-yard zip line.

It may look rustic, but this is a top-of-the-line tree house. The kids’ house features three medieval towers, and inside one of them a concealed hatch in the upper floor leads to a secret game room containing a plasma TV and video game console. Meanwhile the grown-ups’ treehouse features a conical thatched roof and interior walls made of hand-split oak shingles and cedar tongue-and-groove boards. Inside there’s a kitchen (complete with plenty of wine storage), bathroom, and a large open living area for treetop entertaining. The complex also features accommodations for guests of the family.

Head over to the Blue Forest website to check out more of their amazing custom-built tree houses.

[via designboom]

21 Jul lumos5001:

my inner child just geeked out a little bit

lumos5001:

my inner child just geeked out a little bit

21 Jul 
laverne cox poses with a fan, oitnb mexico premiere july 17, 2014

laverne cox poses with a fan, oitnb mexico premiere july 17, 2014

(Source: finch)

21 Jul

reblog if you want your followers to tell you one thing they secretly think about you.