thunder road

may you live with hysteria, and out of it make fine stories

150,177 notes








Some days i think fatphobes are just jelly. 

Beach bodies.

I want this on my blog again because these ladies look like me and it is cool.

I’m a transmn and I still really want a pretty bikini omg

The topmost picture of the girl in red ensemble made me so freaking jelly because that is exactly my body type and my mum would throw me out of the house if dont “cover my fat”. Man I wish i had their confidence.

You need to kick your mum in the kidneys, stomach and trachea, then dress however you like.

Can we talk about how fabulous all these women are? Because they are all fucking fabulous. 

(Source: fullerfigurefullerbust)

Filed under pretty girls fashion

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conniecorleone asked: Girl, work is riding the line somewhere between okay and excessively mediocre, I move in two weeks and am still ~technically homeless, oh, and Mandi put a Joe/Marz plotbunny in my head THAT WILL NOT GO AWAY, LIKE THE HORRIBLE ENABLING WITCH THAT SHE IS. What's up with you? *chinhands*


I was under the impression that okay was fairly synonymous with mediocre, but the point is clear. Do you want me to set up some rabid badgers or something to spice up your life? Are you packed or in the harried process of packing? ~Technically homeless is something I hope you can never apply to your life again after this situation is resolved, and it better be resolved quickly, I swear. Mandi, I love you. Breed those bunnies. I am humid but just started on my weekend. One particularly self-important vulture at work, but otherwise good. *hands chin*

Retail - especially customer service - is rife with mediocrity, but for me it usually consistently borders on “considering hanging myself in window treatments,” so anything above that is a plus. Also, every time I talk/think about my ~technical homelessness, it always winds up being in the voice of Jean-Ralphio from Parks & Rec? Just picture me baking, or writing in the corner of a Starbucks, or doing laundry, mumbling to myself in a high-pitched voice:

And my apologies on your humidness and recent vulture acquisition, my friend. Perhaps a well-placed, industrial-sized fan could fix both issues? Just a thought.

Filed under saltskinandasociopath

442 notes


The old man had seen men more broken than him; men with their guts hanging out or their skulls crushed. He had heard men howling from the torture inflicted on their body. Yet he had never seen the anguish such as met him in the eyes of the stranger. Badly hurt and bleeding he might have been, and yet he seemed to ignore the pain of his wounds and be wracked with something even worse.

It was his soul which was in agony and the Elder Brother flinched in the face of such suffering. I may be able to heal your wounds – but shall I ever be able to heal your soul? he wondered as his experienced hands wiped over the mangy mess where his ear had been.

(via nobodysuspectsthebutterfly)

Filed under game of thrones