Reblog if you think Loki needs his own movie

thepeppermintnightmare:

(Source: shitshilarious)

bastardfromabasket:

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

hannahisawful:

speakcelebrity:

“As I Walked Out One Evening” by W.H. Auden

Read by Tom Hiddleston

oh my god

9,468 plays

fuckyeahfeminists:

Source: Dale Spender, For the Record: Making and Meaning of Feminist Knowledge

[Flash 10 is required to watch video]

hannahisawful:

anchors-away-aimee:

i honestly feel 100% better after watching this

I absolutely do not regret watching this.

oh my godddd ;______;

(Source: constellationlcd)

princessickness:

karenamadof:

&ILOVEYOUTOO<3

SPREAD THE DAMN WORD

(Source: ellamobbs)

They told me the big black Lab’s name was Reggie, as I looked at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, no-kill, and the people really friendly. I’d only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street.

But something was still missing as I attempted to settle in to my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn’t hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie’s advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn’t look like “Lab people,” whatever that meant. They must’ve thought I did.

But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new tennis balls, his dishes and a sealed letter from his previous owner.

See, Reggie and I didn’t really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home). Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too.
Maybe we were too much alike.

I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that. “Okay, Reggie,” I said out loud, “let’s see if your previous owner has any advice.”
____________ _________ _________ _________

To Whomever Gets My Dog:

Well, I can’t say that I’m happy you’re reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie’s new owner. I’m not even happy writing it. He knew something was different.

So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you.

First, he loves tennis balls. The more the merrier. Sometimes I think he’s part squirrel, the way he hoards them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn’t done it yet. Doesn’t
matter where you throw them, he’ll bound after them, so be careful. Don’t do it by any roads.

Next, commands. Reggie knows the obvious ones —-“sit,” “stay,” “come,” “heel.”

He knows hand signals, too: He knows “ball” and “food” and “bone” and “treat” like nobody’s business.

Feeding schedule: twice a day, regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand.

He’s up on his shots. Be forewarned: Reggie hates the vet. Good luck getting him in the car. I don’t know how he knows when it’s time to go to the vet, but he knows.

Finally, give him some time. It’s only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He’s gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat, and he doesn’t bark or complain. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially.

And that’s why I need to share one more bit of info with you…His name’s not Reggie. He’s a smart dog, he’ll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt. But I just couldn’t bear to give them his real name. But if someone is reading this … well it means that his new owner should know his real name. His real name is “Tank.” Because, that is what I drive.

I told the shelter that they couldn’t make “Reggie” available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. You see, my parents are gone, I have no siblings, no one I could’ve left Tank with .. and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call to the shelter … in the “event” … to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my CO is a dog-guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he’d do it personally. And if you’re reading this, then he made good on his word.

Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I hope and pray that you make him part of your family, too, and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he
loved me.

If I have to give up Tank to keep those terrible people from coming to the US I am glad to have done so. He is my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades.

All right, that’s enough. I deploy this evening and have to drop this letter off at the shelter. Maybe I’ll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth.

Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss goodnight - every night - from me.

Thank you,

Paul Mallory
____________ _________ _________ _______

I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure, I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer.

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my knees, staring at the dog.

“Hey, Tank,” I said quietly.

The dog’s head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright.

“C’mere boy.”

He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the name he hadn’t heard in months. “Tank,” I whispered.

His tail swished.

I kept whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my
face into his scruff and hugged him.

“It’s me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me.” Tank reached up and licked my cheek.

“So whatdaya say we play some ball?” His ears perked again.

“Yeah? Ball? You like that? Ball?”

Tank tore from my hands and disappeared into the next room. And when he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.”

(Source: stephaniekilbury)

bradofarrell:

queenston:

hangul is an amazing thing

whoa I know korean now

(Source: ryanestradadotcom)

harryhazzastyles:

sting-like-a-tracker-jacker:

viva-la-veda:

rapunzel-pond:

HOLY SHIT WHEN YOU HOLD DOWN ALT AND CLICK REBLOG

HOLY SHIT„„„„

DA FUQ

THIS IS FABULOUS

For anyone who only sees gender and sex in black and white, here’s proof by the lovely humon that nature is just as fluid with representations of gender and sex as we are.

(Source: forgetpolitics)

fuckyeahfeminists:

I guess our society only cares to listen to certain religious person’s protests, but don’t care about misogyny or abuse.

(Source: villagevoice)

Alright, ladies! Today’s our day!

inmymimeseye:

Today is when we earn 30% more than our male peers and say something assertive or get angry without anyone assuming you’re on your period, right?

And we can have a talk show where the overwhelming majority of the panelists are women but no-one gets upset because the guys are just lucky to be up there, amirite?? And those men are all either very attractive or very frumpy because, ya know, it’s difficult for me to pay attention to ugly people, but hard for me to take attractive people seriously. Let the frumpfest talk while the camera stays on the Adonis!

And I get to interpret that attractive guy in the office who wears those alluring button-downs and walks around in a tailored vest like he owns the place as a tease because—hel-lo!—he’s asking for it but doesn’t want it?! What does your girlfriend think about you going around, turning heads like that, sweetcheeks? And how am I supposed to take you seriously when you’re wearing such a cute little tie?

And I get to interrupt my male colleagues to say exactly what they said but—ya know—lend some gravity to it and be more assertive while receiving credit for his idea? (Like anyone can listen to anything said in that crazy baritone of his, anyway.)

And I get to comment on guy friends’ beer bellies and ill-fitting, cheap clothes—but it’s all in good fun!? (But seriously—take some pride in yourself, man. People judge you by your appearance. Hey—it’s not me—it’s society.)

And we’ll turn science around and say that men’s brains are wired for primitive activities like hunting (irrelevant in today’s world) and are only supposed to live brief lives which usually ended violently, thus outliving their usefulness by age 30 when their physiques take a big downturn. These are just the facts, bro. I mean, how can man ever be powerful if his biggest weakness is right there, dangling from his crotch? One little tap and he’s down! No tolerance for pain, those men. Oh, biology! (I bet they’ll get really angry about this one—they’re slaves to that testosterone coursing around their bodies.)

And we get to have a senate comprised of 83% ladies who waste spend their time polling each-other about whether Viagra should be covered by insurance (but what does that get us? A bunch of old guys slutting around? EW!) While we’re at it, let’s cut testicular exams. All guys do is fondle their own balls, anyway, right?? What a waste of tax-payer dollars.

And there a plethora of movies where the slacker girl gets the hot guy? He’s smart and sexy and has a high-powered job but still finds time to volunteer and shit; she lounges around in stained tee-shirts with her slob roommates and plays video games and works part-time at a Dunkin Donuts… but—for some unknown reason—they like each-other and their physical and personality differences are never questioned.

And women’s sporting events are well-attended and highly-funded? Cheerleaders are bearded men with immaculate hair in fitted tees dancing for our pleasure and excitement? But of course the fellas have their own league! And they are all very talented. *snerk*

A note to my fellow ladies: just be sure to enjoy all these benefits before midnight!