breadmaakesyoufat:

breadmaakesyoufat:

one time when i was 14, i pretended i was sick so i could stay home from school, i pretended i couldn’t talk, and i pretended to have a really sore throat, turned out my mum was really convinced and worried, so she took me to the hospital, i was very shocked when the doctor actually found out i had laryngitis. the next day i couldn’t talk and had a sore throat, oh irony, art thou a bitch.

image

stay home from school. save your own life.

karloffs:

The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971)

A brass unicorn has been catapulted across a London street and impaled an imminent surgeon!

xlikegold:

onmywaytoonederland:

itsstuckyinmyhead:

Canadian Photoset #19

more?

American Photoset#18

I love my country

Since this post was created the new 5, 10, 20 and 50 dollar bills have been rolled out which also smell like maple. God bless us all.

Oh man, I even saw milk at the store today with maple syrup in it.

I missed Amanda stories so much without the cp

I find it so weird that people actually enjoy these stupid little stories. I always thought I lived a normal life until I started talking to other people lol

My mother woke up to go to the bathroom and now realize how weird it is that I’m standing in my underwear yelling at my cat and saying, “haha I’m glad you fell down the stairs, you dick.”

hermionemollycharliepond:

just-raowolf:

edenwolfie:

my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe

We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.
First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.
“A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.”
This was a good start.
We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.
“Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—”
“Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.”
“You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?”
He frowned. “Who doesn’t?”
“Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?”
He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?”
We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.”
He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.”
“But I’m not.”
“Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—”
“We’re married!?”
“Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?”
He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.”
We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?”
“Vegetarian.”
“Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.”
“We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.”
“You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.
“They’re your children too!" I screamed back.
He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!”
“Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—”
“I want a divorce!”
And he walked out of the classroom.
The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.”
I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.

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hermionemollycharliepond:

just-raowolf:

edenwolfie:

my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe

We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.

First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths," I snapped. "Get on Asda’s website right now." His face froze.

A-Asda?" he whispered. "But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.

This was a good start.

We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast," he said.

Toast," I said. "Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—

Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.

You WHAT?" I choked. "You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?

He frowned. “Who doesn’t?

Okay," I said, "but what will the children eat?

He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?

We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes," he agreed; "if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.

He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh," I said. "Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.

But I’m not.

Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—

We’re married!?

Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?

He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.

We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay," he said, clearly thinking hard; "for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?

Vegetarian.

Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.

We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.

You and your children!" he yelled, and the whole class looked around.

They’re your children too!" I screamed back.

He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!

Please," I cried, standing up also. "Don’t—

I want a divorce!

And he walked out of the classroom.

The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry," I whispered, "but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.

I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.

READ THE WHOLE THING