How am I drunk right now while ppl halfway around the world are at work


Posted 6 days ago



It’s been ages since I thought of him
And then he popped into my dreams
I hope I didn’t wake up smiling


Posted 1 week ago with 2 notes

#thoughts  #dreams  #life  


the people i really need can’t be reached

meg i need to vent to you and i dont even know if you changed your tumblr url or not


Posted 3 weeks ago



williamshatnerds:

capecod-arabella:

truthed:

so many concerts, not enough money

so many concerts, wrong country

so many concerts, wrong decade.


Posted 3 weeks ago with 213,978 notes
© truthed.tk



lokilaufeysgirl:

notsosweet-thing:

hudlionunshod:

roachpatrol:

avatarjk137:

nooby-banana:

thesanityclause:

rinnysega:

vashappeninstyles:

the19thhistory:

areyoutryingtodeduceme:

I remember my first eagle ceremony when I turned nine. The first eagle you get is always declawed, which I always thought was pretty inhumane, but it was a good way to ease into caring for the birds. My eagle (named Baldy, because I wasn’t a terribly clever child) was already quite old when I received him (he was a rescue eagle, luckily) but I did have him until I was 16. I don’t know if I was more excited about getting my drivers license that year, or my new eagle! You should have seen the party we had when I got him, too! Grilled hot dogs and fire works and lemonade…. obviously I named my beautiful new eagle Freedom. He’s too big to keep inside anymore, unfortunately, but we’ve got a pretty comfortable roost for him on our apartment’s balcony.

Ah, yes, the eagle ceremony! My Justice and I remember his quite well. (They had just come out with telepathic link transplants when I got him, which is how I know he remembers it.) Our celebration was quite modest, compared to Freedom’s—apple pie under a cloudless summer sky as we signed our Declaration of Interdependence. I still have the inked and talon-pierced document hanging on my wall.

what is this 

Get out Canada

I was so scared during my pet eagle ceremony I almost threw up. But Stonewall Jackson and I have been best friends ever since. My dad and grandfather built a really massive roost behind the house for my eagle and my sisters’ eagles. Stonewall always waits for me when I get home from class since schools are getting so over protective and strict these days and won’t allow eagles indoors. Which just goes to show how much we’re bubble wrapping kids today. Back in the day, if you couldn’t handle a few stitches because you pissed off the wrong kid’s eagle, you had to just man up and learn your lesson!

Ooo, I never miss a chance to tell this story! I had a rather unusual first eagle ceremony. The traditional giant American flag that you wave around to summon your eagle had been severely damaged the week prior (a ceremony that had not gone according to plan, but the child only suffered minor talon wounds. The flag took the brunt of the attack).  Anyway, I couldn’t use the normal flag so we had to search ALL OVER for one suitable for eagle summoning. Unfortunately the stripes weren’t the correct shade of patriotic red so everyone was worried an eagle wouldn’t show up at all.  I had to stand in the middle of that wheat field, the wind creating amber waves out of it, shaking that flag in the air for over three hours.  Everyone was just about to give up when suddenly Patriot appeared out of nowhere!  He came to me so quickly it was like he was apologizing for being late.  And we’ve been together ever since.

Some people think it’s excessive to have two eagles.  But what can I say, I’m a two eagles kind of guy.  Well, I can say, “You must be a terrorist to call me out over my excesses,” but I digress.  We don’t have many open fields around here, so I got Liberty by waving my flag atop a decommissioned WWII aircraft carrier.  I was kicking a couple of boxes of tea into the harbor for good measure, and there she was.  I loved her so much I repeated the process a year later and got young Colbert here.  It’s hard work, raising two eagles, but I have two shoulders, after all.  Besides, I know that the secret to happy and healthy eagles is plenty of Bud Light.

Oh man, the eagle ceremony. I was a weird fucking kid, okay, so I was totally sure that the eagle ceremony wasn’t just going to net me my eagle and deepen the mystical bond between a citizen and their country, I thought I was going to get to turn into an eagle too. So me and my mom and my dad and my little brother are all standing in the old civil war battleground, surrounded by the ghosts of our fallen soldiers, and all and the problem here — it’s not usually a problem because I make sure to shave my beard off twice a day, three times on sundays — was that I am, actually, born on the fourth of July. So it wasn’t just one eagle that showed up, it was pretty much every big old patriotic warbird in Missouri, all flapping around confused and pissed off, their innate senses of direction completely fucked up by the way firecracker babies warp America’s natural system of ley lines. And I was six, so grabbed the flag and ran with it over my shoulders, rippling in the wind, thinking it was going to turn into wings for me and I would go be an eagle with all the other eagles. Instead I just got mobbed by a freaked-out mess of nationalistic avians who all weighed more than I did. I lost half my nose and my whole left arm and spent most of fourth grade in reconstructive surgery getting machine guns welded on to the shattered remains of my ulna. Completely missed my little brother’s eagle ceremony, which I will always regret, but it was all worth it to have met Columbia. I never did turn into an eagle on the outside, but I like to think those long hours in the hospital, feeding her rubbing alcohol and my own blood, have made me an eagle in my heart. 

I usually never reblog long things, but this is worth reading, I swear.

we americans are fucking sarcastic assholes i love it

Oh my gosh, so, I’m the middle child of five and I remember being so fricking afraid of the eagle ceremony, because when my older sister got hers it didn’t show up for five hours and we all thoughts that she was going to be disowned for not being a True American. And then when my older brother got his it literally flew down from the sky, tore through his summoning flag, and tried to bite his ear off. Of course, he then proceeded to try and bite its feet, and they’ve been best friends ever since, the idiots. But then my turn came, and I was standing out in the middle of a strawberry field (closest thing we have to a wheat field here, and we were hoping the more red, the better, since the strawberries were particularly patriotic that year) waving this giant fricking flag and so nervous I swore my entire shirt was soaked with sweat. What if my eagle didn’t come, like my older sister’s Destiny, or my brother’s Washington did? The idea of being disowned for not being a True american was horrifying- I’ve always loved French, and I’m not the biggest America fan and the idea of being exposed was… horrifying. Then the biggest, most majestic and froo-froo looking eagle dropped from the sky and landed gracefully in front of me, and, because I’d recently gotten a mind-meld chip, I heard very clearly that my eagle was not going to led a nine year-old name her something stupid like Uncle Sam or Dolly. So she ruffled her feathers- I’ll never forget how condescending she looked, we were perfect for each other- and told me very clearly that she was named Patrie (“Motherland” in French) and demanded her own roost painted blue, white, and red, not red, white, and blue like my siblings’ eagles’. Of course I never told anyone this, but my strangely unamerican eagle has been with me ever since and we’re planning on visiting Paris soon. 



Posted 3 weeks ago with 178,804 notes
© actualsaame



-

13,009 plays

quiet-beatle:

thateventuality:

George Harrison’s Guitar Solos

Hearing these all spliced together, it’s all the more audible how pivotal George’s guitar contributions were to making the songs what they are.

bless him


Posted 3 weeks ago with 3,111 notes
© beatleseightdaysaweek



I don’t know if anyone has noticed this but when Ygritte was dying and this shot panned out, the background is split between fire and snow. It looks like the fire is for Ygritte - kissed by fire - and then the ice/snow on the other side is for Jon.



Posted 3 weeks ago with 14,580 notes
© mycroftly




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