There are some things about myself I can’t explain to anyone. There are some things I don’t understand at all. I can’t tell what I think about things or what I’m after. I don’t know what my strengths are or what I’m supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail, the whole thing gets scary. And if I get scared, I can only think about myself. I become really self centered, and without meaning to, I hurt people. So I’m not such a wonderful human being.
— Haruki Murakami, The Elephant Vanishes (via effloresent)
Reblogged from sanctuary

I’m plunging again 

Reblogged from ¡Viva Memexico!
behindbobsburgers:

Tina tank girl. (via ufo-potato)

behindbobsburgers:

Tina tank girl. (via ufo-potato)

Reblogged from more parts per million
Reblogged from Frankie T.

house-of-gnar:

bootyscientist:

nice boobs and nice ass isn’t a requirement from my girl. like i ain’t gon turn down a shawty wit a perfect personality and a beautiful face cause she don’t got no body. body is icing on the cake but pound cake ain’t got no icing and i fuck wit that heavy. 

this touches my soul

rock-on-gold-dust-woman:

Stevie Nicks
Reblogged from YOU BROK MY COOL

I did my first Crossfit class on Saturday, and I’m excited but nervous as hell for my first WOD tomorrow. I am not ashamed to say that I’ve accumulated some mass since graduating college, and a combination of home cooked meals, beer, a love for pizza and pills (prescribed, not recreational ones ) is the culprit. On top of my desire to lose weight, I want to convince my four year old, comicbook-lovin’, sweet-faced little monkey nephew that I’m a legitimate superhero and guarantee him (and his little brother)  years upon years of me being alive to save the world.