this makes me feel very comforted and i need that tonight
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
As a bisexual, it sickens me that some people WILL keep scrolling.
As the straight daughter of a gay man, it sickens me that some people will keep scrolling.
As a straight girl with a basic understanding of equality and love, it also sickens me that people will keep scrolling.
As a straight Christian woman, I pray that people will not scroll past this. Love, not judge.
I’m re-reblogging for that last one.
(Source: paulescalante, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
Anonymous asked: What's the pacer test? D:
oh god.
The pacer is a test in gym class/PE that brings a shiver of despair down the spine of any unfortunate soul who has gone through it before. And it’s usually done at least once a year.
Students line up on one side of the gym, eyeing nervously the painted line before the opposite wall that will decide their fate. The teacher hits play on the stereo and a cheery woman’s voice echoes through the gymnasium. fuck that woman’s happy demeanor. She explains the rules as the kids wait anxiously. Get to the other line before the beep plays. Simple enough, right?
“Ready? Begin!” she calls, and the gut wrenching ‘beep!’ plays after.
The kids awkwardly half jog to the other line, with about 3 or 4 seconds before the next beep. Each time the horrendous noise plays they run back and forth to the lines. “Level one, complete” she says, as to pat you on the back for what little victory you’ve achieved.
Not bad, the kids think. But then comes level 2. level 3. With each interval the time between the beeps shorten, and you’re running as fast as you can to the other line. Your foot hits it, you pivot, the beep plays, youre running again. Your lungs burn, your throat is sore, your heart is on the verge of an attack. No rest. No mercy.
A girl is the first to crawl over to the instructor, defeated. Seeing one has fallen, other students begin to follow since “at least theyre not the first ones out”. Clutching their chests they bail out of the test. One girls crying. You can’t tell if the boy on the gym floor is alive or not. Three kids left for the water fountain and still havent made it back.
And then, the fallen sit there, watching the myths, the legends, the kids who have made it past 100 laps. 120. 150. When they finally collapse a cheer erupts from the students. Theyre heroes.
But the excitement only lasts for so long as the next round of nervous kids line up, who opted to go in the second wave and prolong their torture. The womans voice kicks back up. The beep plays. The cycle continues.
This is it. This is it.
The pièce de résistance of my blog. My magnum opus. The post that will be chiseled onto my tombstone.
One hundred thousand notes. This response I wrote in five minutes just to be silly has one hundred thousand notes and has been across the same number of dashboards, if not more, and has been read by hundreds of thousands of individuals.
It is one hundred thousand testimonies to the horrors of the pacer test. It is the cumulative record of people writhing in agony at the memories as they read along, the collection of responses of people bragging that the pacer test was no problem for them, the cause of confusion as people mistake the pacer for suicide runs, and my ever. lingering. reminder. that it is called the bleep/beep test in other parts of the country and world.
Every time I think this post has died it swells back with unrelenting force and swallows my dashboard in notes for days straight; the reblogs and asks engulfing every other notification I have.
This is the pièce de résistance of my blog. My magnum opus. I will never have another piece of original content that reaches this scale in notes, nor something that touches so deeply into the hearts of the collective human experience…or at least the average high schooler’s nightmares.
I haven’t ran he pacer test in three years but because of this post, I relive it everyday.
Well let me tell you, it was quite the pragmatic purchase. It has endless uses in my morning routine.
Such as making the bed:
Making toast:
Getting things off high shelves:
Making coffee:
Reaching the remote when it’s too far away:
And assisting me when I ran out of toilet paper:
I don’t know how I survived life without it.
No comment necessary.
You are my hero.
after more than a year… I need to reblog it again. Because.
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
[video]
is there a word for “i’m okay but it’s a fragile kind of okay so be gentle with me”?
I nominate ‘I’m eggshell fine’. Currently whole but easily crushed again.
(Source: sineadhasmoved-blog, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
I laughed way too hard
this is the funniest fucking thing I have ever seen
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
Someone took a candid photo of a fight in Ukranian Parliament that is as well-composed as the best renaissance art
this is currently my favorite thing on the entire internet
(Source: best-of-memes, via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
[video]
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