solipsism

(via zukosgirl)

(Source: confuzzlation, via zukosgirl)

fuckingradic4l:

Beauty is Undefined on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/23475946

vicemag:

Taste Test: Peanut Butter & Dick Jelly

Someone recently asked me if I have a disorder that makes me want to eat weird/gross things. At first I was all, “Weirdness is subjective. Just because you think frying up a little vaginal discharge for an afternoon snack is gross doesn’t mean everyone does.” But the more I think about it, I’m not so sure.

This morning, for instance, I ate a bunch of flavored lube because I wanted to know if any of them were as delicious as the fruits and, in one case, alcoholic beverage, they claim to represent. I also paired my lubes with some of my favorite foods, thinking the contrast between a well-known taste and a totally unknown one would make the latter really sing on my palate.

So yes, maybe I have a compulsion to eat weird things, but only so that you don’t have to!

Flavor #1 Strawberry

This being the first tasting, I’ll admit there were some naïve thoughts running through my head while squirting the lube packet onto the bread. “Mmmm peanut butter and strawberry jam, a childhood classic,” I thought. I was expecting this to taste a lot like a normal PB&J—just more intense and with a slightly larger libido. I was wrong. The lube tasted like lip-gloss from the dollar store, but the peanut butter was (thankfully) the dominant flavor. It was like a peanut-butter-poison-treat-snack.

Flavor #2 Raspberry

Up next was this little cutie packet from Dickalicious. As opposed to other types of lube, this one is strictly designed for dinks and only dinks. So, I guess this isn’t really “lube” per say, but I ate it anyway. And sweet Jesus it was delicious. This stuff tasted exactly like candy. It was like Sweet Tarts mixed with plastic mixed with minty, stinging sensations. The only downside came later when I tried to rinse my mouth out and for some reason started gagging uncontrollably. Too much bullshit going on in my mouth, I guess.

Continue

tomoatmeal:

What the letter said was that I found her very attractive and that I’d seen her walking her dog a lot and so I just wanted to say hello.  It also said that I’d watched her several times through a window, but not like HER window or anything.  I meant through my car window when I was driving.  And that “watching,” sounds so creepy.  It was more like I just happened to glance over and see her. 

That was the gist of it.  And I didn’t have any paper so I wrote it on an old traffic ticket envelope and put it under her windshield wiper blade.

“Hey!” she screamed.

I started to respond, but she marched right by me and up to the parking enforcement officer who I guess was standing behind me.

“I was parked just fine!” she screamed.  “What is this, some sort of bullshit quota you have to fill?!”

He didn’t like the accusations and so he fired right back.

“I didn’t give you a ticket!”

“Liar!”

“Man oh man,” I thought. 

And I guess she was having one of those days because she pulled a gun out of her purse and shot the parking officer three times in the chest.  Then, she put the gun barrel in her own mouth and pulled the trigger.  It was a huge mess.

“Well, I guess that’s a no,” I said, in a real sitcom-y voice. 

“WAY-TO-MAKE-IT-ALL-ABOUT-YOU,” boomed the helmet fastened to my dog’s head that converted his barks to English.

I poured the remainder of my expensive latte on the dog’s helmet, which caused it to crackle and malfunction.

The right girl was out there somewhere.  And I would find her.

Next to me, the dog’s helmet made a crackling noise.  A sarcastic crackling noise.

(via favoritepanties)