22 5 / 2012

this is genius!

(Source: inthenameofjoy, via hereliesmysecret)

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22 5 / 2012

(Source: badbnelly, via imgfave)

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22 5 / 2012

Permalink 3,659 notes

22 5 / 2012

seriously?

seriously?

(via psychofactz)

Permalink 1,816 notes

22 5 / 2012

cant do it ><

cant do it ><

(via psychofactz)

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14 5 / 2012

someday everything will be useful to you

someday everything will be useful to you

(Source: imgfave)

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14 5 / 2012

(via boralove)

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13 5 / 2012

Bahaha

Bahaha

(Source: ferdominguezv, via imgfave)

Permalink 1,615 notes

10 5 / 2012


Sex is also a good remedy against stuffy nose, being a natural antihistaminic that helps combating asthma and high fever. It also helps you lower cholesterol, lose weight, gain muscle, become more attractive to the opposite sex (as you release pheromones), improve your mental health, and reduce the chances of getting certain types of cancer.
http://psychofactz.tumblr.com/

Sex is also a good remedy against stuffy nose, being a natural antihistaminic that helps combating asthma and high fever. It also helps you lower cholesterol, lose weight, gain muscle, become more attractive to the opposite sex (as you release pheromones), improve your mental health, and reduce the chances of getting certain types of cancer.

http://psychofactz.tumblr.com/

(via psychofactz)

Permalink 7,133 notes

10 5 / 2012

So the good news is that you meet many people like this over the course of your life really. And the bad news is that you do let some of them go. But then again, there are plenty of other fish in the sea&#8230;

So the good news is that you meet many people like this over the course of your life really. And the bad news is that you do let some of them go. But then again, there are plenty of other fish in the sea…

(Source: staypozitive)

Permalink 13,823 notes

10 5 / 2012

Ha ha. Oh sarcasm

Ha ha. Oh sarcasm

(Source: thesoundofthefallingrain, via imgfave)

Permalink 1,633 notes

10 5 / 2012

So cherish the good moments of now and bear through the bad with the thought that it will get better

So cherish the good moments of now and bear through the bad with the thought that it will get better

(via lovechangeseverythang)

Permalink 2,186 notes

02 5 / 2012

mishalmoorebloggyblog:

As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)
A sweet lesson on patience. A NYC Taxi driver wrote:I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboardbox filled with photos and glassware.‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drivethrough downtown?’‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.They must have been expecting her.I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.‘Nothing,’ I said‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

mishalmoorebloggyblog:

As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)

A sweet lesson on patience. 

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

(via hereliesmysecret)

Permalink 103,224 notes

01 5 / 2012

lolzpicx:

Just Funny Pics click here for more

Nerd-ness at its  best

lolzpicx:

Just Funny Pics click here for more

Nerd-ness at its best

(Source: , via crazynarwhal)

Permalink 17,232 notes

30 4 / 2012

(Source: aegolius, via boralove)

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