Nothing to See Here...

fuckingrecipes:

fangirlstarship:

nerdamongnerds:

sord:

ukidoki:

militaryfit-bombshell:

Super Silky Summer Legs

Next time you are feeling down, about to binge, going on a date, or just need to pamper yourself, do this. I just did it and I can not stop rubbing my legs together. It feels like I paid for that over expensive pedicure at the salon.

Ingredients

• 1 1/4 C Sugar (Yup, plain, good-ol’ white sugar)
• 1/2 C Oil (I used olive oil, but you can use any oil, coconut oil, baby oil, canola oil)
• 3 tablespoons Citrus (Lime or lemon)
• 1-2 Razors

1. Mix everything together in a bowl.
2. Soak your legs in the tub for 5 minutes.
3. Shave your legs.
4. Rub some of this mixture all over your legs. The sugar will help rub off all dirt and dead skin. Rub, rub. Feels like a mini massage.
5. Rinse it all off, shave again. I would use one razor per leg if you have two. You will be rinsing this razor a lot. I was GROSSED out by the amount of dead skin I was “shaving” off. It was insane! Trust me, you’ll see.
6. Rub your legs again! Second coat of wax, oh yeah.
7. Rinse off! You can use a mild soap to help get some of the oil off.
8. Lotion your legs up, and feel the silkiness!

Now this isn’t just geared to ladies…. guys, if you want to get lucky, I suggest you offer to rub your ladies’ feet with this mix too. It feels awesome, and when you get lucky, you will be thanking me that her rough grandma feet aren’t cutting your legs, if ya know what I’m saying… hahaha.

I have silky arm pits too!!

Try it, I swear, You will want everyone to touch your legs.

i just did this and after about 2 or so months of not shaving this is the most incredible thing i have ever done its like my legs arent even legs they’re some sort of ancient fabric made only for powerful pharoahs

i highly suggest this even if you don’t shave use it on your feet or shave your pits or your pubes with it because you will feel like a fucking deity

HOLY SHIT I JUST USED THIS AND???? I FEEL LIKE MY LEGS ARE MADE OF ANGEL WINGS

THIS IS THE BEST THING IF YOU DON’T USE IT YOU’RE CRAZY

I just tried this and it feels so good I want to cry

I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS POST FOR LIKE 6 MONTHS THANK YOU TUMBLR

THIS FUCKING RECIPE IS A WONDERFUL THING. USE IT WHEREVER YOU SHAVE. 

FACE? LEGS? IDK JUST SMUSH IT AGAINST YOUR SKIN AND REJOICE

conveys:

korraful:

Date a girl who writes.

Date a girl who may never wear completely clean clothes, because of coffee stains and ink spills. She’ll have many problems with her closet space, and her laptop is never boring because there are so many words, so many worlds that she’s cluttered amidst the space. Tabs open filled with obscure and popular music. Interesting factoids about Catherine the Great, and the immortality of jellyfish. Laugh it off when she tells you that she forgot to clean her room, that her clothes are lost among the binders so it’ll take her longer to get ready, that her shoes hidden under the mountain of broken Bic pens and the refurbished laptop that she’s saved for ever since she was twelve.

Kiss her under the lamppost, when it’s raining. Tell her your definition of love.

Find a girl who writes. You’ll know that she has a sense of humor, a sense of empathy and kindness, and that she will dream up worlds, universes for you. She’s the one with the faintest of shadows underneath her eyelids, the one who smells of coffee and Coca-cola and jasmine green tea. You see that girl hunched over a notebook. That’s the writer. With her fingers occasionally smudged with charcoal, with ink that will travel onto your hands when you interlock your fingers with her’s. She will never stop, churning out adventures, of traitors and heroes. Darkness and light. Fear and love. That’s the writer. She can never resist filling a blank page with words, whatever the color of the page is.

She’s the girl reading while waiting for her coffee and tea. She’s the quiet girl with her music turned up loud (or impossibly quiet), separating the two of you by an ocean of crescendos and decrescendos as she’s thinking of the perfect words. If you take a peek at her cup, the tea or coffee’s already cold. She’s already forgotten it.

Use a pick-up line with her if she doesn’t look to busy.

If she raises her head, offer to buy her another cup of coffee. Or of tea. She’ll repay you with stories. If she closes her laptop, give her your critique of Tolstoy, and your best theories of Hannibal and the Crossing. Tell her your characters, your dreams, and ask if she gotten through her first novel.

It is hard to date a girl who writes. But be patient with her. Give her books for her birthday, pretty notebooks for Christmas and for anniversaries, moleskins and bookmarks and many, many books. Give her the gift of words, for writers are talkative people, and they are verbose in their thanks. Let her know that you’re behind her every step of the way, for the lines between fiction and reality are fluid.

She’ll give you a chance.

Don’t lie to her. She’ll understand the syntax behind your words. She’ll be disappointed by your lies, but a girl who writes will understand. She’ll understand that sometimes even the greatest heroes fail, and that happy endings take time, both in fiction and reality. She’s realistic. A girl who writes isn’t impatient; she will understand your flaws. She will cherish them, because a girl who writes will understand plot. She’ll understand that endings happen for better or for worst.

A girl who writes will not expect perfection from you. Her narratives are rich, her characters are multifaceted because of interesting flaws. She’ll understand that a good book does not have perfect characters; villains and tragic flaws are the salt of books. She’ll understand trouble, because it spices up her story. No author wants an invincible hero; the girl who writes will understand that you are only human.

Be her compatriot, be her darling, her love, her dream, her world.

If you find a girl who writes, keep her close. If you find her at two AM, typing furiously, the neon gaze of the light illuminating her furrowed forehead, place a blanket gently on her so that she does not catch a chill. Make her a pot of tea, and sit with her. You may lose her to her world for a few moments, but she will come back to you, brimming with treasure. You will believe in her every single time, the two of you illuminated only by the computer screen, but invincible in the darkness.

She is your Shahrazad. When you are afraid of the dark, she will guide you, her words turning into lanterns, turning into lights and stars and candles that will guide you through your darkest times. She’ll be the one to save you.

She’ll whisk you away on a hot air balloon, and you will be smitten with her. She’s mischievous, frisky, yet she’s quiet and when she has to kill off a lovely character, when she cries, hold her and tell her that it will be alright.

You will propose to her. Maybe on a boat in the ocean, maybe in a little cottage in the Appalachian Mountains. Maybe in New York City. Maybe Chicago. Baltimore. Maybe outside her publisher’s office. Because she’s radiant, wherever she goes. Maybe even outside of a cinema where the two of you kiss in the rain. She’ll say that it is overused and clichéd, but the glint in her eyes will tell you that she appreciates it all the same.

You will smile hard as she talks a mile a second, and your heart will skip a beat when she holds your hand and she will write stories of your lives together. She’ll hold you close and whisper secrets into your ears. She’s lovely, remember that. She’s self made and she’s brilliant. Her names for the children might be terrible, but you’ll be okay with that. A girl who writes will tell your children fantastical stories.

Because that is the best part about a girl who writes. She has imagination and she has courage, and it will be enough. She’ll save you in the oceans of her dreams, and she’ll be your catharsis and your 11:11. She’ll be your firebird and she’ll be your knight, and she’ll become your world, in the curve of her smile, in the hazel of her eye the half-dimple on her face, the words that are pouring out of her, a torrent, a wave, a crescendo - so many sensations that you will be left breathless by a girl who writes.

Maybe she’s not the best at grammar, but that is okay.

Date a girl who writes because you deserve it. She’s witty, she’s empathetic, enigmatic at times and she’s lovely. She’s got the most colorful life. She may be living in NYC or she may be living in a small cottage. Date a girl who writes because a girl who writes reads.

A girl who writes will understand reality. She’ll be infuriating at times, and maybe sometimes you will hate her. Sometimes she will hate you too. But a girl who writes understands human nature, and she will understand that you are weak. She will not leave on the Midnight Train the first moment that things go sour. She will understand that real life isn’t like a story, because while she works in stories, she lives in reality.

Date a girl who writes.

Because there is nothing better than a girl who writes.

date me

(Source: byleistr)

neeneejb:

carlmagna:

gamzee-makara:

foodaddictofficial:

Chocolate Lasagna

INGREDIENTS

• 1 package regular Oreo cookies (Not Double Stuff) – about 36 cookies
• 6 Tablespoon butter, melted
• 1- 8 ounce package cream cheese, softened
• 1/4 cup granulated sugar
• 2 Tablespoons cold milk
• 1- 12 ounce tub Cool Whip, divided
• 2 – 3.9 ounce packages Chocolate Instant Pudding.
• 3 1/4 cups cold milk
• 1 and 1/2 cups mini chocolate chips

DIRECTIONS

1. Begin by crushing 36 Oreo cookies. I used my food processor for this, but you could also place them in a large ziplock bag and crush them with a rolling pin. When the Oreos have turned into fine crumbs, you are done.
2. Transfer the Oreo crumbs to a large bowl. Stir in 6 tablespoons melted butter and use a fork to incorporate the butter into the cookie crumbs. When the butter is distributed, transfer the mixture to a 9 x 13 inch baking dish. Press the crumbs into the bottom of the pan. Place the pan in the refrigerator while you work on the additional layers.
3. Mix the cream cheese with a mixer until light and fluffy. Add in 2 Tablespoons of milk, and sugar, and mix well. Stir in 1 and 1/4 cups Cool Whip. Spread this mixture over the crust.
4. In a bowl, combine chocolate instant pudding with 3 and 1/4 cups cold milk. Whisk for several minutes until the pudding starts to thicken. Use a spatula to spread the mixture over the previous cream cheese layer. Allow the dessert to rest for about 5 minutes so that the pudding can firm up further.
5. Spread the remaining Cool Whip over the top. Sprinkle mini chocolate chips evenly over the top. Place in the freezer for 1 hour, or the refrigerator for 4 hours before serving.

I have seen heaven and it is a beautiful place

STOP NO I CANT EAT THIS….YOUR THE DEVIL….

 I’m gonna lose weight…….never-mind.

superwhopottermerlockian:

protojammed:

life-is-fiction:

theinternetghostshavetakenover:

golgothasghirahim:

basstrip:

whoa

what omg

the english language, everyone

This hit me like a brick

And people wonder why authors use italics and bold so readers understand what the hell is going on.

“What the hell are they talking abo- oh.”

Can someone explain that to me?

“I never said she stole my money.”

Implies someone else said it.

“I never said she stole my money.”

Implies speaker is being accused of having said she stole his/her money. Expresses indignation.

“I never said she stole my money.”

The speaker never expressively said she stole his money but may have implied it or conveyed that meaning through some other way, such as writing.

“I never said she stole my money.”

Implies the speaker is either talking about a different girl or a man.

“I never said she stole my money.”

The speaker may have lent the girl money expecting to get it back or given it to her and later regretted the action.

“I never said she stole my money.”

Implies that it wasn’t the speaker’s money that was stolen but someone else’s.

“I never said she stole my money.”

Implies that it wasn’t money that was stolen but something else.

(Source: mostlikelyloveyou)

blueflame91:

ms-monochrome:

did-you-kno:

Lost Generation.

I’m a part of Lost Generation

and I refuse to believe that

I can change the world

I realize this may be a shock but

“Happiness comes from within”

is a lie, and

“Money will make me happy”

So in thirty years I’ll tell my children

They are not the most important thing in my life

My employer will know that

I have my priority straight because

Work

Is more important than

Family

I tell you this

Once upon a time

Families stay together

But this will not be true in my era

This is a quick fix society

Experts tell me

Thirty years from now I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce

I do not concede that

I will live in a country of my own making

In the future

Environmental destruction will be the norm

No longer can it be said that

My peers and I care about this earth

It will be evident that

My generation is apathetic and lethargic

It is foolish to presume that

There is hope

And all of this will come true unless we reverse it.

Source

there’s a great video of someone reading this poem

Fuckin love this poem