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rainbowcranes:


Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”
On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 
Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 
This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.
Apr 16, 2014 / 80,585 notes

rainbowcranes:

Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”

On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 

Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. 
I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 

This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.

(via y-o-u-p)

Apr 16, 2014 / 558,936 notes

thesassycat:

"This isnt a project that you will be able to do the night before"

image

(via hercoralcloset)

Apr 16, 2014 / 6,623 notes

6ood:

My dance style ranges from white dad at a barbecue to stripper whose rent is due tomorrow

(via luxvriously)

Apr 16, 2014 / 14,553 notes
Apr 16, 2014 / 16,821 notes

mydrunkkitchen:

natazilla:

feb 1st, 2014

All the time always

Apr 16, 2014 / 107,091 notes

schmoyoho:

haleyscomett-art:

I FOUND IT

NO ONE BELIEVED ME WHEN I SAID I HEARD AN ICE CREAM TRUCK DROPIN BEATS DOWN THE STREET

NOW I HAVE A VID TO PROVE IT OMG I’M SO HAPPY I DIDN’T IMAGINE IT YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MAKES ME

THAT DROP DO

(via hitrecordjoe)

Apr 16, 2014 / 288,087 notes

aatroxop:

toastradamus:

shipping is disgusting you should all be ashamed of yourselves

image

image

image

(via thetomska)

raindropsonrosetyler:

outweighingthebad:

the poster lights were out and I just

thAT IS NOT OkAY
Apr 16, 2014 / 215,044 notes

raindropsonrosetyler:

outweighingthebad:

the poster lights were out and I just

thAT IS NOT OkAY

(via troyesivan)

Apr 16, 2014 / 340,722 notes

thecatsmeow90:

Working on my paper is hard on both of us.

(via jackhoward)

Apr 16, 2014 / 34,641 notes

tyleroakley:

troylered:

Please watch it.

So disgusting.

Apr 16, 2014 / 419,474 notes

cornchipz:

daleksunshine:

danfreakindavis:

when you find that perfect gif but don’t know how to use it

image

You can reverse the flow of the hotdogs if you concentrate hard enough

oh my god you can

(via tyleroakley)

Apr 16, 2014 / 459,818 notes

as-seenon-tv:

nebuloser:

Grand Theft Auto. 

this is literally the funniest thing i’ve ever seen Kristen Wigg do

(via mrtimh)

macbookmori:

theicywalrus:

grandmagrass:
here a woman starts picking the ripe chameleons off of the chameleon tree

OH MY GOD THEY’RE SO DAMN CUTE
Apr 16, 2014 / 54,863 notes

macbookmori:

theicywalrus:

grandmagrass:

here a woman starts picking the ripe chameleons off of the chameleon tree

OH MY GOD THEY’RE SO DAMN CUTE

(via luxvriously)

Apr 16, 2014 / 139,069 notes

(via luxvriously)

Apr 16, 2014 / 20,336 notes

Anonymous asked: you are a pretentious prick who is also a transphobic piece of trash, go to hell

maureenjohnsonbooks:

fishingboatproceeds:

There is so much of this stuff in my ask box, and most of it not even anonymous, but I don’t want to call out any particular user because I know they’ll then get a lot of hateful asks and the cycle will just continue.

First off, there’s a comma splice in your ask. I just have to let you know that, on account of how I’m a pretentious prick.

I hope that I’m not transphobic. I’ve been public and vocal in my support for the rights of trans people for years, and I’ve tried over the years to amplify trans voices, from T Cooper to Stephen Ira Beatty, rather than pretending to be able to speak for them. 

Look, I am a person, and I am not a particularly good one. I am screwed up and make a lot of mistakes. But I am not a piece of trash. I would imagine that you are also screwed up and make a lot of mistakes, but you aren’t a piece of trash either.

But it is still hurtful—very hurtful—to hear people call me a piece of trash. It just makes me sad to hear, the way I think it would make most people sad to hear. The certainty and lack of nuance in that characterization reflects a broader lack of nuance in online discourse these days that just bums me out. 

Stuff like this? It’s not activism. It’s hate mongering. 

And it’s not even correct. Just because you levy an accusation at someone doesn’t make you right about it.

This is the kind of stuff that will ruin the internet, if we let it. I hope we can get ourselves together and end this so we can have good things.