Name: Sarah M.
Age: 22
Studying: Wildlife Ecology
Ravenclaw

This blog consists of random nothingness including Pokemon, wildlife (mostly owls and wolves), my favorite bands and things I find hilarious.

 

College be like

ntbx:

Housing: $2,980
Meal plan: $1,457
Books: $1,429
Enrollment: $983
Air: $3,274
Grass: $4,284
Sidewalk: $5,284
The sun: $3,381

Playing single player games with two people is literally the worst idea ever. You know both of you are sitting their hoping the other one dies so it’s their turn to play.

wigglyflippingout:

beahbeah:

this website SAVED MY BRAIN when i was a stressed out college student who couldn’t stop flipping out long enough to prioritize. quite a few of you are still suffering through college so i hope this helps you too!! c:

reblogging this like the wind and god bless the person who made this

i know how to do the calculation longhand or at least i used to, but hearing it from someone else always silences my irritating voice of anxiety a little better so hopefully some other people can appreciate that effect too

protowilson:

betterbemeta:

This tea is awful. It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t believe that lazy shit idyllic pastoral landscape on the goddamn cardboard box. It’s a damn lie and if you drink this tea you’ll know the heart of minty darkness
Like OK I appreciate that it tries to prepare you for whats inside by a cute picture on the box. Fresh green mint leaves, and some candy cane sticks to get you in that shitty assfaced Christmas mood. Look it’s even tied with a repugnant little red bow. fuck this tea.
So if you open the box and immediately steep a cup prepare to get one of those cute lil candy canes up your FUCKING NOSE and in your FUCKING EYES because this shit doesn’t know personal space in the same way a demon from hell doesn’t know a loving God.
I hope you like drinking your throat lozenges because here’s a blistering stream an actual menthol golem would piss down your fucking throat while you gag on its candy-striped wiener. 
So you lock this shit in a box for 3 months while you recover from the worst toothpaste-flavored blowjob of your life and maybe get yourself together again. You recover. You move on. Things are looking pretty up and you think back, well maybe that godforsaken tea didn’t really taste like a peppermint Siberia. So you make a cup like the foolish piece of shit you are
and you’re right, but so wrong about the character and nature of your mistake you might as well star in Greek tragedy. You pathetic bag of bollocks.
because in the months its been locked in a top-shelf tomb the life and vehement mint-based hatred for the physical world has withered and desiccated out of its soulless teabag husks.
Now what you have got in your fucking unfortunate mug is a hot steaming cup of fuck you that tastes like the inside of the birch tree on the fucking box, or maybe Santa’s tears mixed with mummy dust, or midwinter leaf litter a vaguely minty dog only rolled in once.
The aftertaste stinks of wax. Why wax? Because it wants to remind you that you’re the kid who ate birthday candles in first grade, that’s why. And every single other bad decision you now regret.
fuck this tea. fuck it, it tastes like a hollow  mannequin of a tea, hot leaf swill unfit to fertilize even fake fucking flowers.Maybe you could tan leather in it. I don’t fucking know but get it away from me and the human race. Fucking shoot it at the moon where it belongs with all of the other celestial fucking seasonings. fuck

I never thought I’d reblog a tea review but here we are.

protowilson:

betterbemeta:

This tea is awful. It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t believe that lazy shit idyllic pastoral landscape on the goddamn cardboard box. It’s a damn lie and if you drink this tea you’ll know the heart of minty darkness

Like OK I appreciate that it tries to prepare you for whats inside by a cute picture on the box. Fresh green mint leaves, and some candy cane sticks to get you in that shitty assfaced Christmas mood. Look it’s even tied with a repugnant little red bow. fuck this tea.

So if you open the box and immediately steep a cup prepare to get one of those cute lil candy canes up your FUCKING NOSE and in your FUCKING EYES because this shit doesn’t know personal space in the same way a demon from hell doesn’t know a loving God.

I hope you like drinking your throat lozenges because here’s a blistering stream an actual menthol golem would piss down your fucking throat while you gag on its candy-striped wiener. 

So you lock this shit in a box for 3 months while you recover from the worst toothpaste-flavored blowjob of your life and maybe get yourself together again. You recover. You move on. Things are looking pretty up and you think back, well maybe that godforsaken tea didn’t really taste like a peppermint Siberia. So you make a cup like the foolish piece of shit you are

and you’re right, but so wrong about the character and nature of your mistake you might as well star in Greek tragedy. You pathetic bag of bollocks.

because in the months its been locked in a top-shelf tomb the life and vehement mint-based hatred for the physical world has withered and desiccated out of its soulless teabag husks.

Now what you have got in your fucking unfortunate mug is a hot steaming cup of fuck you that tastes like the inside of the birch tree on the fucking box, or maybe Santa’s tears mixed with mummy dust, or midwinter leaf litter a vaguely minty dog only rolled in once.

The aftertaste stinks of wax. Why wax? Because it wants to remind you that you’re the kid who ate birthday candles in first grade, that’s why. And every single other bad decision you now regret.

fuck this tea. fuck it, it tastes like a hollow  mannequin of a tea, hot leaf swill unfit to fertilize even fake fucking flowers.Maybe you could tan leather in it. I don’t fucking know but get it away from me and the human race. Fucking shoot it at the moon where it belongs with all of the other celestial fucking seasonings. fuck

I never thought I’d reblog a tea review but here we are.

did-you-kno:

A 99-year-old woman in Iowa makes a dress from scratch every single day so that African children in need will have something pretty to wear, and she adds a personal touch to each and every dress she makes.  Source

did-you-kno:

A 99-year-old woman in Iowa makes a dress from scratch every single day so that African children in need will have something pretty to wear, and she adds a personal touch to each and every dress she makes. Source