I'm probably older than you.
That John Green breakfast cereal quote turned up on Twitter and now my friend is naming 48 kinds of breakfast cereal and we are arguing about what constitutes breakfast cereal and I have to be up in four hours.
I apologise for nothing.
greetings! if you see this, you are being recruited to the skeleton war. have a nice day!
T̸̙̫̖ͅH͇͈̱E̪͉̥R̮͔̱̬͍͍E̺̬̙̮ ̤͚̮̩̥̥̣I͓̖̯̙͓̟̰̕S͖̣̙̠̳ ̧M̙̲̣͞O͇̖̗̦̼ ̨͍͚̜E̡͉̺̫̪͉S̟̝͍̘͓C̴̙͎̲ͅP̮͕̙̮̝A̷̟̩I̦̪NG̹̻̭̥̞͇ ͏̭̖̳͕̪̳Ṱ̴̤̠HE ̼̞͈͈Ś̤͇K̯̝̺̣̦̙E̛̫̬L҉̣͕̯̠̙ͅE͏͖T̖̫͍O͖͕̹̲̳N̤̘ ̧̱̱̯̹D̪̜͝ͅR̙̣A̷̟̤F̻̠̭͖̻̤́T̻͔
A screenshot of the LIFETIME earnings of our two most viewed videos. 830,000+ views for < $80. #subbableplease
Because Sexplanations talks about sex, advertisers considers the show non-ideal inventory that they don’t want to associate with, so Sexplanations makes about ten times less per view than the average YouTube channel. YouTube does not make Sexplanations possible…you do.
You do! ;o)
straight boys are weak and pathetic, queer girls walk into the ladies changing room and see ten women naked, do they stare? do they say something inappropriate? do they make them uncomfortable? no because they have the common fucking sense to recognise when a situation is sexual and that people deserve the most basic level of respect to not be harassed, yet here we are banning shorts and low cut tops in school because straight boys are weak and pathetic
You win this round cheese
actually that is a rectangle cheese
[oxford comma laughing in the distance]
[vocative comma wondering what oxford comma thinks it’s doing here]
I already reblogged this for the pun but I’m reblogging again for the sick punctuation banter
‘Hello love, sorry for keeping… my Christ, aren’t you a pretty little thing? Can I offer you a drink?’ Considering the fact that I had already had four lattes to pass the time, I thanked him and declined.
As we got into the lift, a series of standard questions ensued. He seemed surprised that I wanted a degree from King’s College London: ‘I doubt a Russell Group university would offer a hairdressing degree,’ but I was quick to correct him that English Literature was my chosen subject. Of course, he didn’t mean it (or that’s what he assured me); I should learn to have a sense of humour rather than being so sensitive, he said.
[… W]e came to Page 3.
I could not believe my eyes at the room of ‘journalists’ enlarging, shaping, and photo-shopping the topless glamour model photos to portray a picture of sexuality and seduction. I remember thinking for a split second how unusual it was that I could not hear more vulgar, derogatory comments being made about the images – I suppose that if your job was to airbrush and edit a woman’s naked body every day, all day, the novelty wears off in time.
Needless to say, my judgement had been made too soon. Sure enough, a voice hollered: ‘Her tits are bigger than melons’ and ‘Who hired her? Her face looks like a horse. Can we edit out her face?’ My fears had been confirmed.
‘Whose that?’ questioned one of the reporters, turning to me. ‘Just the work experience girl,’ replied my mentor, ‘She’s from Essex you know.’ Why my birthplace was of such amusement continued to baffle me. ‘Wheyyyyy an Essex girl!’ was the unsurprising response as he persisted: ‘Well, I hope you enjoy your time. When you decide it’s time to get a boob job then don’t forget to contact us… just joking love! Got to have some work banter to pass the time in the office!’
BANTER. A JOKE. Of course it was. I should learn to get a sense of humour right? It’s only harmless! That’s when I went to the loo and cried."