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Orange is the New Black cast for Entertainment Weekly (May 2, 2014)

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Anonymous asked: Did your parents not care about what you did.. 13 isnt even a teenager. Damn. You so young and wow waste of a beautiful life tbh.

helainetieu:

Well, you are a cunt. All I said was that I started stretching my lobes when I was 13. And what? 13 is the beginning age for when you are considered to be a teenager ..

Just because my parents let me stretch my ears at 13 doesn’t mean I’m a “waste of a beautiful life,” considering I am more open minded & don’t judge others like you, I’d say my life has been more fulfilling than yours.

Maybe if you weren’t ignorant and didn’t jump to conclusions, you’d take the time to consider -

1) My parents are Buddhist
2) Buddha had stretched ears
3) People from different cultures find different things aesthetically pleasing

Sorry your parents didn’t love you enough to allow you to be who you want to be so you came out a bitter adult.

relahvant:

asktheteamofscientists:

hobgoblinhero:

danadies:

yes-master-thank-you-master:

The Kum and Go. Or as my mom called it, the ejaculate and evacuate.

Jizz and jet

shoot and scoot

blow your load and hit the road


bust ya nut and off ya strut
rainbowcranes:

Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”
On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 
Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 
This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.

bitched:

trying on new jeans in the fitting roomimage

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supermoclel:

fuckaclevername87:

supermoclel:

thatskrillmau5chick:

supermoclel:

a brony called me unattractive

that’s

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 right

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he

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me

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ugly

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because i have hair on my legs

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Self absorbed Bitch.

i’m a bitch because i can recognize that i’m not ugly, that i can laugh at someone calling me unattractive for reasons as petty as hair on my legs which EVERYONE grows?

She is most definitely not a Bitch, but yes, self absorbed I’d say from the copious amounts of selfies she takes. 

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