"But I have promises to keep..."

Not cool, Steve Jobs

• Me: We're just going to start out the morning mad bigger ish. Um...Niggerish
• Baby Face Nelson: LMAO
• Me: Because...fuck it
• BFN: It's Monday.
• Me: Steve jobs tried to correct niggerish to bigger ish and Nigerian
• BFN: Rude.
• Me: I'm here to tell Steve in the great beyond that real niggerish shit is gon happen all up and thru here today.
• *and later*
• Me: Tell them hoes wait
• BFN: LMFAO all 80,000 of them?
• Me: Top.
• Me: Um YOP.
• BFN: Your phone is not letting you win today. Don't sext today.
• Me: Nigga I'll be sicking ducks and coming in months all day.
• BFN: LMFAOOOOOO

When my parents walk by I stop scrolling

laugh-addict:

Tumblr can go from puppies to orgies any second.

(Source: , via sojournersverdad)

Happy Histamine

For the last few days on the Twitters, I’ve seen a lot of toxic hypotheticals.  They always go really bad really quickly.  Certain people seemed all too excited to one up one another with a list of terrible things they would do to the terrible people who put them in terrible made-up situations.  It makes me cringe.  Not because I’m some vessel of light faerie creature or anything like that (I mean, I fucking am, but that’s not why in THIS case), but because it had been going on for days and just watching it made me tired.  I couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to fine tune your imagination for horrible things day in and day out.  

So I logged off.  I tell myself all the time, there are things to do other than Twitter, so when it gets bothersome, leave.  But what stuck in my craw was this twisted sense of wounded community topics like this form.  People band together to form Butt-Hurt Voltron and the venom lasts for hours; sometimes days.  

Why do we enjoy taking these flights of fancy to such horrible places?  And why DON’T conversations about happiness go viral?  If someone speaks hypothetically about their wedding or seeing their child graduate from high school, or anything that suggests they might enjoy puppies and rainbows, the negative brigade comes in.  ”Bitch, ain’t nobody trying to marry you.”  ”Are you fathering these children that you want to see graduate?” “AND WHAT OF YOUR EDGES?!”  It’s disgusting.  There’s a disturbing discomfort in happiness, it seems.

So I did a little reading about histamines and this is what The Wiki doth say:

Histamine is an organic nitrogen compound involved in local immune responses as well as regulating physiological function in the gut and acting as a neurotransmitter.^[2] Histamine triggers the inflammatory response. As part of an immune response to foreign pathogens, histamine is produced by basophils and by mast cells found in nearby connective tissues.

I swirled this around my head for a minute and I realized that happiness is a foreign pathogen to some of you people.  You see happiness and your reaction is to become inflamed.  YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO HAPPINESS!  I can’t come up with the words to tell you how frightening I find that.  So I won’t try.  

I’ll just sprinkle my space with faerie dust and rebuke your ass in the name of Benadryl.

stupidoldishlikelettersandsodas:

MY NIECE JAEDYN AMARI EMERSON OF BRANDEIS HIGH SCHOOL IN SAN ANTONIO HAS BEEN MISSING SINCE LAST NIGHT. SHE IS 15 AND WAS LAST SEEN WEARING SHORTS AND A TUBE TOP. HER AUNT TALKED TO HER AT 5 30 THIS MORNING. PLEASE CALL MY MOTHER, HER GRANDMOTHER, CHERYL EMERSON AT 210 445-6120 IF YOU SEE OR SPEAK TO HER.

jusky:

So just now I’m on the twitter, and some dude I follow retweets a young lady’s tweet into my timeline, and this tweet says:

I fuck too good to be this single.

So y’all know me, you know my style, I was like, aw shit, time for me to handle this and do my thing!

I immediately sent her an @ reply:

Too well. You fuck too well to be this single.

LMAO! You are seriously one of my favorites.