if i were a murderer i’d be the febreze murderer and lead my victims blindfolded to undisclosed locations and i’d ask them what they smelled and they’d be like “omg ocean air and tulips” and then i’d rip off the blindfold and it would be A PILE OF THE BODIES OF MY PREVIOUS VICTIMS
my mom made me go to a therapist because of this
"You realize that trying to keep your distance from me will not lessen my affection for you. All efforts to save me from you will fail."
"Canadians hate, above all things, to offend. It was part of the national consciousness. “Be polite” was an unwritten, unspoken rule, but ingrained into the psyche of an entire country. (Of course, as with any rule, there were exceptions: parts of Quebec, where people maintained the “dismissive to the point of confrontation, with subsequent surrender” mind-set of the French; and hockey, in which any Canadian may, with impunity, slam, pummel, elbow, smack, punch, body-check, and beat the shit out of, with sticks, any other human being, punctuated by profanities, name-calling, questioning parentage, and accusations of bestiality, usually—coincidentally—in French.)"
Christopher Moore, Fluke (Or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings)
this made me smile.
(Source: triceratopper)
I was standing in line at dairy queen and I saw an elderly lady crying because she didn’t have enough money to pay for her small blizzard, so I bought her a large and helped her out to her car, and she cried and said ” I hope god made someone just for you out in the world so that they can treat you as special as you are” and I am sobbing right now.
Such a lovely story :)
