One of these days the ground will drop out from beneath your feet. One of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat. One of these days the clocks will stop and time won't mean a thing. One of these days their bombs will drop and silence everything. But, it's alright.
what if someone wrote a book and the plot was basically amazing and the characters were awesome and at the end of the book, you’re dying to know what happens, all you see is a ripped page and the author actually did it on purpose and you’ll never know what happens because all the other published copies are like that too
calm down satan
Time to play a new game: Make sure John Green doesn’t find the thing
My stepbrother just got me some nice weed, but I have to hang onto it until Friday. My whole car smells and I can’t bring it inside because my parents will kill meeee.
Get a cheap bag of coffee and stuff the bag of weed in the bag of coffee. A coffee smelling car is better than a weed smelling car.
98 year old dobri dobrev, a man who lost his hearing in the second world war, walks 10 kilometers from his village in his homemade clothes and leather shoes to the city of sofia, where he spends the day begging for money.
though a well known fixture around several of the city’s chruches, known for his prostrations of thanks to all donors, it was only recently discovered that he has donated every penny he has collected — over 40,000 euros — towards the restoration of decaying bulgarian monasteries and churches and the utility bills of orphanages, living instead off his monthly state pension of 80 euros.