bedussey:

KNOOoow sooomethin…i gotta range. i got a range like NO mothafucka KNOWS. come to think of it i’m gonna g- i’m gonna make him BALD and make him, and make him SWEAT ACID. and i think i’m gonna give ‘im weird bladder problems, and romantic problems- you know what, the WHOLE THING. i already SAID that fuckin thing, you missed it. where were you on that one, o’keefe? eyes on the prize. FOCUS! don’t just look at her ass, EAT IT. mY BADGE MY WIT- oh shit. eeuuhhhhh auuauuaghh wOSH- calm before the storm- fuck it. meOW MEOWWW. WOAH- NOPE. RAAAHHH RAGH. BOOO. what’s so funny about it, i don’t get it. y’mean, yev neva heahd of, the millennium falcon, it’s the ship that made the kessel run in, unda twelve pah-secs…AY, does ya mothuh sew? BOOM, GET ‘ER TO SEW DAT



neverendinggames:

Crying Lightning - Arctic Monkeys

Your past-times consisted of the strange

and twisted and deranged,

and I love that little game you had called

Crying Lightning,

and how you like to aggravate the ice-cream man

on rainy afternoons.

brallonappreciation:

Fuck yeah, we did get some! Thanks WBC! And thanks Dallon. 

x

warpedtoursmoshpit:

i fucking love this. because honestly, i talk so much shit about my town and when i finally was able to leave it for a while and go to the beach late at night, i just stared at the ocean and appreciated everything. like, my life. living. breathing. all of it.

warpedtoursmoshpit:

i fucking love this. because honestly, i talk so much shit about my town and when i finally was able to leave it for a while and go to the beach late at night, i just stared at the ocean and appreciated everything. like, my life. living. breathing. all of it.

bloodsexandrocknroll:

wow their wedding is gonna be eventful, Phil in his massive hat with a beetle or some shit on it and a velvet suit, Dan in some Alexander McQueen black leather thing.  It’ll look like the I Write Sins Not Tragedies video.

Dan + half of Phil at Pophack Live

One Truth & Seven Lies

phanology:

Warnings: References to an ED, masturbation + pre-smut

A/N: Based off the song Franklin by Paramore

I keep my head bowed and teeth gritted as I storm down the street, hands stuffed in the small pockets of my tight jeans. You’re at home, packing, I suppose, and I probably should be there helping you. The rain is more welcoming than the sight of you packing one bag for you and one bag for me, though, so I told you that I need to get some milk so we can have coffee in the morning.

Lie number one.

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