Tim, 22, college graduate with a major in Collision Repair. I work on cars for a living. proud owner of a 02 6th gen Accord. Fall out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, Breaking Benjamin, Silverstein and Augustana are just some of the artists I like. I try to watch and keep up with Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead to name a couple. I don't blog anything specific really.
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Reblogged from youmakemesoangry  126,891 notes

What To Do When Your Boyfriend’s Asshole Best Friend Says, “Hey, Never Trust Anything That Bleeds For Seven Days And Doesn’t Die,
Right?”
OR The Only Poem I’ll Ever Write About Periods.

Don’t excuse him because he’s had
at least three lite beers
and is sweating through his black button down
that his mom or exgirlfriend
probably bought him.
Don’t excuse him because he’s been turned down
by the last six girls he went on dates with
after meeting them on tindr
with a picture that’s seven years old
Don’t excuse him because
he’s usually such a nice guy
because you don’t want to be a bitch
because you don’t want to cause a scene
because when you were seventeen
your sister told you
no one likes an angry feminist

Tell him,
Hey, Asshole:
Let me explain something to you.
Every goddamn motherfucking month since I was eleven,
a part of me
tore itself to shreds
ripped itself apart inside me
and then remade itself.

So yes, I bleed for seven days
and I don’t die
You know what else can do that?
Gods.
Immortal beings.
Things of legend.
Fuck, I can even
create life.

So I say, never trust anything that can’t
bleed for seven days and not die.
You know what that makes it?
Weak
Fallible
Mortal.
So let’s see, hon,
What you’re made of.
If you can bleed for seven days
and not die.

Rip out his jugular with your teeth.
And when he bleeds for seven seconds
and dies,
spit on his corpse and say,
I thought not.

By

Katherine Tucker (determined-in-slc)

(via ted-bundys-cabin)

Wow, sometimes I worry about some of you. Sorta.

Reblogged from jumblepusher  73 notes
jumblepusher:

Bruce Davidson. “Subway: Undercover Police Officer in Red Jacket, with Gun - In the spring of 1985, New York magazine asked me to photograph a new police-decoy unit working in the subway. Using disguises, the decoy operates in small teams to foil muggers who prey on passengers. We would set up together in the subway car with a decoy dressed as a businessman wearing gold chains and an expensive-looking watch. Two backup members of the team would sit a few seats away, and I would place myself in the corner with my camera around my neck, looking like a lost tourist. Hours went by riding the train from one end of the line to the other without incident. At 72nd street, I noticed a youth enter the train carrying a walking stick with a heavy brass head. He stood near the sleeping decoy, his eyes fixed on the gold chains. The next stop was 42nd street, 3 minutes away on the express. As the train pulled into the station the mugger struck ripping the chain from the decoy and running around me mumbling something about my camera. I looked up and my flash went off as I saw the muzzle of a .38 pointed at the head of the mugger by one of the decoy team members. The mugger was arrested and later it was reported he had a long history of assaults and robberies”. 1985. New York, NY, USA. (New York).

jumblepusher:

Bruce Davidson. “Subway: Undercover Police Officer in Red Jacket, with Gun - In the spring of 1985, New York magazine asked me to photograph a new police-decoy unit working in the subway. Using disguises, the decoy operates in small teams to foil muggers who prey on passengers. We would set up together in the subway car with a decoy dressed as a businessman wearing gold chains and an expensive-looking watch. Two backup members of the team would sit a few seats away, and I would place myself in the corner with my camera around my neck, looking like a lost tourist. Hours went by riding the train from one end of the line to the other without incident. At 72nd street, I noticed a youth enter the train carrying a walking stick with a heavy brass head. He stood near the sleeping decoy, his eyes fixed on the gold chains. The next stop was 42nd street, 3 minutes away on the express. As the train pulled into the station the mugger struck ripping the chain from the decoy and running around me mumbling something about my camera. I looked up and my flash went off as I saw the muzzle of a .38 pointed at the head of the mugger by one of the decoy team members. The mugger was arrested and later it was reported he had a long history of assaults and robberies”. 1985. New York, NY, USA. (New York).

Reblogged from pornstarwars  179,325 notes

punkwarren:

striderdaves:

i love catfish so much because they act like theyre fbi agents or something when theyre really just using reverse google image search

i thought you meant the animal and let me tell you that was a wild minute of me trying to figure out the psychology of fish thinking they’re federal law enforcement