Reblog if you’ve actually SEEN the movie “The Aristocats”

tinylilremus:

awkward-fallen-angel:

disneytasthic:

bandheaven-on-earth:

awesometriathlon:

catgh0st:

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Let’s see who’s over 18

oh shut up I’ve seen it a million times and im 15

I’m only 20 and I’ve seen it a LOT.

19 bitches!

Guys the movie came out in 1970. Playing the 90s kid superiority card is literally the most stupid thing.

Anonymous asked: “please elaborate on how you got a substitute teacher to quit within one day. I'm genuinely curious.”

mysticmoonhigh:

mamalovebone:

all right everyone sit down, shut up and listen closely because I’m about to tell y’all the tale of Ms. Mormino.

Seventh grade is a time most people don’t look back on fondly. I know I sure don’t—I tend to regard that era as nothing more than an unpleasant, acne-filled haze of fall out boy and poor attempts at pseudo-zooey deschanel fashions. But enough about me. Let’s talk about my math teacher. 

Ms. Isom. Poor old Ms. Isom. Well in her 60’s, always plagued with some illness or injury, she was hardly ever even at school. Since many of her absences were the result of short-notice incidents—“falling down the stairs” was popularly cited— it wasn’t all that uncommon to not have a substitute on hand. Being a smartass honors class, we’d gotten away with several successful evasions of administration, walking cavalierly into class  to pass the next 48 minutes doing just about nothing. Hell, for good measure, we’d sometimes even toss in a friendly “hey, Ms. Isom!” if any administrators were anywhere within earshot. So incredibly anti-establishment, you could basically call it another Project Mayhem, except instead of Brad Pitt and Ed Norton concocting homemade bombs, it was a bunch of tweenyboppers with iPhone 3’s and Justin Bieber 2009 haircuts. 

 We got pretty accustomed to our own little self-governing system that rolled around every second period, so we naturally weren’t exactly thrilled when administration caught on to our little Anarchy Act and strictly enforced the presence of a substitute every day. 

Most of our subs weren’t terrible—most were friendly, gave us participation grades, and didn’t object to the independent attitude of our class (which, mind you, only had about ten students in it) 

That is, until Ms. Mormino came along. 

Four feet, ten inches of raw, undiluted evil, Ms. Mormino walked into class with a scowl on her face and a chip on her shoulder. When the girl behind me sneezed, Ms. Mormino’s immediate response was “NO INAPPROPRIATE NOISES!” 

 Although we all suppressed our laughter, we all knew from that moment on that, try as she might with her despotism and her draconian anti-sneeze policy, Ms. Mormino didn’t stand a chance. 

 The arguable beginning of the end for Ms. Mormino’s all-too-brief reign of terror was the moment I asked for a calculator; mine was broken. Mormino asserted that I could only borrow a calculator if I loaned her something of mine; at that moment, the girl next to me chimed in, saying she, too, needed a calculator. “I have a folder I can give you,” I offered. “I have a highlighter,” added the other girl. 

 At that moment, a puberty-creaking voice from the back of the room piped up. 

Max. 

We all know certain people have certain gifts. Michelangelo saw angels in every block of marble and devoted his life to setting them free; Einstein had a mind which saw the potential of the entire universe; F. Scott Fitzgerald wove intricate tales of decadence and depravity. Max, however, had a different kind of gift: he could make anything—anything at all—into a “that’s what she said” joke. More on that later, though. 

Max pried off a Nike sneaker and held it proudly in the air, like a coveted trophy. 

"I have a shoe." 

Tottering in one-shoe-one-sock, Max dumped the sneaker on Ms. Mormino’s desk, retrieved a calculator, then tottered back to his own desk, a sort of smirk playing on his face. And, as to be expected—the rest of us quickly followed suit. 

 A small pile of shoes on her desk, Ms. Mormino grit her teeth and glared at us as we all sat back down, quietly victorious, a calculator in each of our hands. It wasn’t long, however, until we all began to silently plot our next act of minor mayhem. 

"Can I go to the bathroom?" asked Tyler, who, despite being in seventh grade, was approaching his sixteenth birthday. In a combination of verism and admiration of Tyler’s devil-may-care boldness, we unequivocally accepted him as our leader. For reasons unknown, Ms. Mormino denied his request. Tyler, much like his Fight Club namesake, heeded no rules but his own and left anyway—Ms. Mormino, furious, locked the door behind him and smugly insisted that "administration will take care of him." 

Tyler, however, was not one to be caught, and stayed close by, appearing in the window of the door whenever Ms. Mormino wasn’t looking. Waving, smiling, laughing, making faces and obscene gestures, Tyler had us all in stitches, but cleverly avoided Ms. Mormino’s sight—when she asked us what was so funny, we all refused to give Tyler away. 

A girl asked to go to the bathroom, stating she “really really really” needed to go. Ms. Mormino, again, denied her request. Ms. Mormino, however, seemed to be uninformed about the side door—leading right outside, always locked from the outside but always open from the inside. 

"Well, I’ll go myself," the girl responded, and took off, hurdling three desks and darting out the door. Right behind her, two other students took off, pursuing freedom. The door slammed behind all three students, and they were gone. 

 Six of us were left. Among us, importantly, was Chris. 

Chris was thirteen, but looked half his age; scrawny, wiry, he probably measured in at about four-foot-three, but no taller. “Late Bloomer” are words that come to mind. 

Despite his diminutive size, Chris possessed the gall of someone like Tyler.

"I have to use the bathroom," said Chris, standing. 

 ”Do you think I’m going to allow you to go to the bathroom?” snapped Ms. Mormino. 

 ”It’s an emergency!” Chris pleaded. 

"Sit down," Ms. Mormino growled. 

Meanwhile, the entire class borders on hysteria. We have tears in our eyes, almost suffocating from choking back laughter. 

"It’s an emergency," repeated Chris, but it sounded more like a warning.

"Sit."

Silence. Silence, Silence and more silence, until we all began to notice a dark stain on Chris’s khakis. The stain grew. And grew. And grew.

 Fists at his sides, stoicism in his face, and a cold, proud, triumphant glint in his eye, Chris locked eye contact with Ms. Mormino. 

And pissed right in his pants. 

The entire class erupted into a laugh only comparable to the detonation of a bomb. 

We laughed so hard for the next five, ten, fifteen minutes straight that Ms. Mormino gave up. Surrendering, putting her head on her desk, she waited until the hysteria finally subsided. 

Finally looking up, defeated, pathetic, Ms. Mormino glared at us all and wailed: 

 ”This is too much, this is too hard, too hard, Jesus Christ, this is too much for me!” 

 A lone voice sounded from the back of the room. Guess whose it was.

"That’s what she said."

Ms. Mormino officially retired from teaching that afternoon.

FUCKING READ IT IT’S WORTH IT

Reblog or your mom will die in 928 seconds.

twirliest:

steampoweredplayer:

lollie-pond:

larryismyhallelujah:

thetasrose:

peachy-blisss:

myswagisnice:

I love my mom.

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I am risking nothing

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I AM SORRY FOLLOWERS, I LOVE MY MOMMY

Will not risk.

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sorry followers :(

omg im so glad to se so many people love their mummy

Why’re you being mean to my mum?

goddamn it

Nope. Googled it. 15 minuets. Nope. Not taking any chances

Koop

This has 1.2 million reblogs …
Ps not riskin it

mrscarstairs:

Gather round children, whilst I tell you a little story.
So I was watching Fullmetal Alchemist with my roommate, when I got thirsty and decided what the hell, Ima get myself a Coke. So I went down to the vending machine on our floor and swiped my card and pressed the button to vend the Coke. Well, TWO cokes popped out.
Weird right?
I looked around, wondering if I was on one of those punk’d shows, and grabbed both bottles. Suddenly, a loud thrumming came from the machine, and lo and behold, 6 MORE COKES CAME OUT.
After checking my debit card statement, I found that I was only charged for ONE coke. Feeling giddy but slightly guilty, I nabbed all 8 bottles of coke and went back to my room. After telling my roommate what happened, she decided to go back to the coke machine with me and see if only the Cokes are affected.
She bought two Sprites, and what the fuck do ya know, she got those damn Sprites, AS WELL AS 11 FREE COKES. 
This of course jammed the machine, and before I knew it, I was on my knees with my arm up the Coke machine, practically birthing these little fuckers. I even read off their names on their bottles as I handed them to my roommate. We also found a random Cherry Coke had popped out as well.
Behold our finished family. 19 cokes, 2 Sprites, and a Cherry Coke, all the result of a very overworked and confused Coke machine.

mrscarstairs:

Gather round children, whilst I tell you a little story.

So I was watching Fullmetal Alchemist with my roommate, when I got thirsty and decided what the hell, Ima get myself a Coke. So I went down to the vending machine on our floor and swiped my card and pressed the button to vend the Coke. Well, TWO cokes popped out.

Weird right?

I looked around, wondering if I was on one of those punk’d shows, and grabbed both bottles. Suddenly, a loud thrumming came from the machine, and lo and behold, 6 MORE COKES CAME OUT.

After checking my debit card statement, I found that I was only charged for ONE coke. Feeling giddy but slightly guilty, I nabbed all 8 bottles of coke and went back to my room. After telling my roommate what happened, she decided to go back to the coke machine with me and see if only the Cokes are affected.

She bought two Sprites, and what the fuck do ya know, she got those damn Sprites, AS WELL AS 11 FREE COKES. 

This of course jammed the machine, and before I knew it, I was on my knees with my arm up the Coke machine, practically birthing these little fuckers. I even read off their names on their bottles as I handed them to my roommate. We also found a random Cherry Coke had popped out as well.

Behold our finished family. 19 cokes, 2 Sprites, and a Cherry Coke, all the result of a very overworked and confused Coke machine.

j6:

demonicdorothy:

japanese dragon:

- long
- chill
- no wings
- legs
- moustache
- in the sea

chinese dragon:

- long
- p chill
- no wings
- legs often but not always
- impressive beard
- 9 is a big deal

european dragons:

- jerks
- breathing fire
- wings
- often actually a wyvern
- compulsive hoarding
- caves

slavic dragon:

- three fucking heads bro
- can you believe it
- wings and like
- 3 whole heads

leviathan:

- honestly probably just a whale and you should all chill 

American Dragon:

- jake long

lehrastar:

ask-gallows-callibrator:

axylhart:

izolaree:

bubblewraphypothesis:

isalh-on-whatever:

japhers:

axylhart:

ask-gallows-callibrator:

The Most Gorgeous Book Ever Has No Words Or Pictures, Just Color

This is the RGB Colorspace Atlas by Tauba Auerbach. The 8”x8” hardcover tome is pretty much an encyclopedia of every color in the RGB index. It’s huge, it’s gorgeous, and I want one.

I KNOW WHAT THIS NEEDS

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It’s like they were made for each other.

Sensors alight, the pen trailed itself sensually down the gradient shift from yellow to blue along ample curve of paper, dipping closer and closer to the book’s spine.

“Can you imagine it?” the pen whispered, whirring and selecting #00563F with practiced intimacy. “Just picture it. With your collection and my potential…we can color the world.”

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A pen and a book 
A notepad and a clock
CAN I REQUEST A DOUBLE DATE??

request accomplished -

SMACKDOWN TIME

How the fuck did it end up like this

*whispers* make an anime


*whispers* I have a need for this to happen

Sorry, I cannot resist.

I AM SO HAPPY THAT I STARTED THIS BECAUSE WOW THIS ENDING IM FANGIRLING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LIVING ROOM IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE FAMILY AND IDK IM HAPPY OK 

OMG YAY!! IT’S BACK!! =^0^=

isimonito:

gorogoroiu:

honkschraders:

metal-thimble:

geekscoutcookies:

luvyourselfsomeesteem:

tidiness:

after reblogging this i opened up a card my great aunt gave me it has money in it

It could be a complete coincidence but I reblogged this yesterday and toda I fouund $40 at the fruit maket

Eh,why not

#this is dumb#but i’m desperate

when you got nothing you got nothing to lose

I got a job after reblogging this !

I GOT 40$

isimonito:

gorogoroiu:

honkschraders:

metal-thimble:

geekscoutcookies:

luvyourselfsomeesteem:

tidiness:

after reblogging this i opened up a card my great aunt gave me it has money in it

It could be a complete coincidence but I reblogged this yesterday and toda I fouund $40 at the fruit maket

Eh,why not

when you got nothing you got nothing to lose

I got a job after reblogging this !

I GOT 40$

Scientists discover most relaxing tune ever

Sound therapists and Manchester band Marconi Union compiled the song. Scientists played it to 40 women and found it to be more effective at helping them relax than songs by Enya, Mozart and Coldplay.

Weightless works by using specific rhythms, tones, frequencies and intervals to relax the listener. A continuous rhythm of 60 BPM causes the brainwaves and heart rate to synchronise with the rhythm: a process known as ‘entrainment’. Low underlying bass tones relax the listener and a low whooshing sound with a trance-like quality takes the listener into an even deeper state of calm.

sherlockinasgard:

yungtapatio:

Actors revisit their famous movie roles

THIS MADE ME VERY EMOTIONAL.

evienator:

octoberrainfall252:

Not taking any chances

I scrolled past this and the guilt was too much

evienator:

octoberrainfall252:

Not taking any chances

I scrolled past this and the guilt was too much