G.D. Batbitch

G.D. Batbitch I am the bitch that flaps in the night.

dextrahoffman:

Haven’t posted any artwork in a while, but I’m still doing it when I can, just busy with life. This is something I’ve had in my “to be continued” pile for a long time. I did the sketch for this over 2 years ago, and I started the painting 3 months ago. Didn’t really take me that long to finish it, I just sort of forgot it existed for a couple months. Whoops.

For those of you that may have missed this over the weekend.

Reblogged from dextrahoffman

dextrahoffman:

Haven’t posted any artwork in a while, but I’m still doing it when I can, just busy with life. This is something I’ve had in my “to be continued” pile for a long time. I did the sketch for this over 2 years ago, and I started the painting 3 months ago. Didn’t really take me that long to finish it, I just sort of forgot it existed for a couple months. Whoops.

For those of you that may have missed this over the weekend.

indynerdgirl:

madam-cj-says-relax:

patrickat:

kaiju3:

The American Hogwarts Houses

Look at your school of witchcraft and wizardry. Now look at mine. Now yours. Now back to mine. Sadly, your school is not mine, but if you all got off your broomsticks and started using a real sorcerer’s deodorant, it could smell like mine. Abracadabra! I’m a horse.

Good. Night. I’m done.


I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING

Reblogged from totallynotagentphilcoulson

indynerdgirl:

madam-cj-says-relax:

patrickat:

kaiju3:

The American Hogwarts Houses

Look at your school of witchcraft and wizardry. Now look at mine. Now yours. Now back to mine. Sadly, your school is not mine, but if you all got off your broomsticks and started using a real sorcerer’s deodorant, it could smell like mine. Abracadabra! I’m a horse.

Good. Night. I’m done.

I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING

totheinternetandbeyond:

wecanbreatheinouterspace:

totheinternetandbeyond:

I lost the cap to a soda bottle

Then you’re fucking stupid. If you can’t drink a soda without a cap, then you’re fucking stupid. 

LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT. I COULDN’T FIND THE CAP TO AN ALMOST FULL 2 LITER BOTTLE OF DIET COKE. I WASN’T ABOUT TO DRINK THE WHOLE GOD DAMN THING ON THE SPOT. I DONT EVEN LIKE DIET COKE THAT MUCH. IF I PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE IN THE BOTTLE IT WOULD HAVE GONE FLAT SO DONT FUCKING CALL ME STUPID I AM THE FUTURE

Reblogged from mydrunkkitchen

totheinternetandbeyond:

wecanbreatheinouterspace:

totheinternetandbeyond:

I lost the cap to a soda bottle

Then you’re fucking stupid. If you can’t drink a soda without a cap, then you’re fucking stupid. 

LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT. I COULDN’T FIND THE CAP TO AN ALMOST FULL 2 LITER BOTTLE OF DIET COKE. I WASN’T ABOUT TO DRINK THE WHOLE GOD DAMN THING ON THE SPOT. I DONT EVEN LIKE DIET COKE THAT MUCH. IF I PUT IT IN THE FRIDGE IN THE BOTTLE IT WOULD HAVE GONE FLAT SO DONT FUCKING CALL ME STUPID I AM THE FUTURE

Reblogged from totallynotagentphilcoulson

americanninjax:

floozys:

image

inspired by x

I have no idea what I was expecting from that picture but it wasn’t this. And it’s glorious

Reblogged from totallynotagentphilcoulson

(Source: wannajoke)

stoney321:

I don’t know whether to eat it or worship it

Reblogged from cherrybombe

stoney321:

I don’t know whether to eat it or worship it

(Source: sinistersweetshop.com)

Reblogged from doomslock

daeneryus:

hot things to say during sex:

  • aw man i shot marvin in the face
  • silly caucasian girl likes to play with samurai swords
  • you got two jobs; kiss good, and make sure my hair don’t get wet
  • the d is silent
  • [faking Italian with a southern accent] bon jorno
  • BECAUSE IT’S SO MUCH FUN JAN

Reblogged from loveayeti

co-gi-to:

untamedcomets:

This is important

IMPORTANT. BOOST.

I know I reblogged this earlier, but I’m doing it again because I want to add something. I relate to all of these, as I’m sure most women do. But the phone number thing. That one is one that’s hard to pull off these days, because of how technology advances. Even ten years ago, it was difficult. 

Back in the 90’s, I used to travel by bus a lot. I went all over the place. Greyhound and I were old pals. Being a young woman traveling alone is scary, especially on a bus. For the most part, though, I traveled mostly without any major incidents. Yeah, there were the occasional creeps in the bus stations, but walking away towards security usually took care of them. Most people that were traveling long distances kept to themselves and were at best, helpful and friendly and at worst were just obnoxious or in desperate need of a shower. But there was one time that I still get pissed about.

This was the last time I traveled on Greyhound, in 2003. I’d just spent some time with my fiance in New Orleans, and I was headed back up north to Lexington, KY. The trip down was uneventful and quiet. Heading back north, the bus was at full capacity. We were going to have a layover in Memphis, and there were a lot of people getting out there, so the bus should have more room to stretch out the rest of the way. I preferred to have the seat next to me empty if I could, but I wouldn’t put up a fuss about sharing if I needed to. When we were loading up, the driver informed us that we would have a full bus and to not guard seats. I had my book and my Discman, so I could tune out at least until we got to Memphis.

Then, as I’d just gotten myself situated, this guy had beelined from the door right to the seat next to me. I immediately said “If you could move, I’d prefer to sit with another woman. Nothing personal.” 

"Oh, don’t worry, you won’t even know I’m here!" he smiled.

I didn’t like the way he smiled. All the alarms in my head were going off. I put my headphones on and stared out the window until the bus was in motion. I pulled my book out and started reading. He tapped my arm. I pulled it closer to me and turned myself in toward the window. He pulled my headphone off my ear and said “Hey, I’m talking to you. You could be nice enough to pay attention when you’re spoken to.”

"I think I made it pretty clear that I don’t want to talk to you. Let me read my book in peace." Another tap on my arm. This time I turned and stared him right in the eyes. "DO NOT touch me again." This time I had my hand reaching toward my pocket for the folding knife I kept with me.

He looked sorry and said he just wanted to apologize and that he was just lonely and thought I looked like someone he could talk to. I was still giving him a narrowed glare, but I thought Well, maybe I’m overreacting because I’m tired and travel stresses me out. So I asked him what was bothering him. Big mistake. Maybe if I’d just held my ground he’d have laid off. Who knows. He started telling me about how he was a long haul trucker and his truck had broken down on him and he was going through a bad breakup and he thought I was a kind person and he knew that I was special and that’s why he sat next to me.

It’s when he started turning the conversation to me that I started shutting down and redirecting the topic back to him. I didn’t want to talk about myself with him. I pulled out my book and started staring at it, not really reading, but not wanting to make eye contact again. He started asking me where I was going. He told me he was getting off at Memphis (thank god). I just said I was going further than that.

The bus made a couple of quick stops at rest areas and during the first one, Creeper got off and I went up to the driver and asked him if there was any way I could change seats with someone, and he said I could ask someone to trade with me, but he wasn’t about to make anyone. I told him that the man next to me was bothering me, and he told me that unless he did something “bad”, that he couldn’t force him to move. I stared asking people, and not a single person would switch with me. I got a few sympathetic “I’m sorries”, but that was it. The second time we stopped, I had to go to the restroom, so I high-tailed it to the ladies’. When I came out, he was right outside the door waiting for me. It was dark. And it was around the side of the building out of view of the bus. I screamed and ran around back to the bus and back to my seat. By the time he got back to the seat next to me, I had my jacket wrapped around me, and my knife in my hand (under the jacket) ready to go.

He explained he wasn’t trying to scare me, that he was just concerned for my safety. I’m pretty sure I visibly shuddered. He kept talking, and I kept doing my best to ignore. At no point did anyone ask this guy to leave me alone, but one guy asked him to keep it down. It was late at night, most people were trying to sleep. I tried to feign sleep at one point, and the helpful Creeper said “You can lean on me, I’ll be your pillow.” Well, there goes that clever plan. Then he started asking me if I wanted to accompany him in Memphis, that he would get us a room and “with two beds” to prove he was being gentlemanly. And that he’d buy me a plane ticket to anywhere I wanted after a good night’s sleep. After all, he just wanted someone to talk to.

I just told him, repeatedly, that I wasn’t about to go off alone with someone I just met. That’s when he said that he would give me his phone number and I could call whoever and give them the number and that way he could be held accountable. I told him I didn’t have a cell phone (which at the time, I didn’t). He said I could use his to call my house. I said no, because it was late and I didn’t want to wake up my family. That’s when he started badgering me for my phone number. 

Now, this was one of the meaner things I’ve done, but I had to give him a legit number. I knew he was going to call the number once I’d given it to him. I’ve given out a fake number to guys on the bus before. It was the time and temperature number from a local bank in my hometown. I knew he needed a legit number because I’d just given him that number and he called it. So I rattled off the first number that came to my head, which was the number of my best friend, who I’d recently had a falling out with. So I was a little sore. Also, she and I sounded a lot alike on the phone. So he called and thankfully, her voicemail picked up, and he seemed satisfied with that and hung up. 

After that, he still kept trying to get me to get off the bus with him once we reached Memphis, to the point that when we arrived, he reached up to the overhead bin and pulled down my bag. I informed him that I wasn’t going anywhere, and the people behind him were starting to get restless and he was holding up the line. Finally a rather large, grumpy guy told him to move it, and he did. He left the bus, and my bag in the aisle, which I scooped up and put on the now empty seat. 

It wasn’t until after he was gone that 3 or 4 of the passengers around me made comments to me about how creepy he was and how sorry they were that I had to put up with that. I just said “Yeah, well, thanks for sticking up for me.” I put my bag back up in the bin and sat back down, finally tired enough to relax a bit. I didn’t sleep until I’d reached my destination, and then dozed in my mom’s car for about five minutes until we got home.

About a week later I got an angry phone call from my friend (whose number I gave to the Creeper). Once I explained what had happened, she wasn’t as angry, but she did ask what I’d done to get that guy so worked up. I was angry at her for assuming that. I was angry that people sat there and watched this guy aggressively strong-arm me into giving him a phone number and did nothing about it. I was angry that the bus driver wouldn’t (or perhaps couldn’t) do anything. And I was angry that this guy just knew that he could do that without consequence. At best, I would have gone along with him and whatever plans he had for me, or at worst, he’d at least get my phone number. “No” was apparently not an option.

That was the last time I took a bus anywhere (other than just local buses in the city). Once I got home and called my fiance and told him what had happened, he swore I’d fly from then on, and that’s what I did. I told my mom about it as soon as I got in her car at the bus station, and her reaction was just “Well, that’s how men are, you just have to keep your head down.” I was keeping my head down. I was giving off every non-verbal “do not approach” signal I could muster, and verbally told him to leave me alone several times. You can still do “everything right” and still be harassed or assaulted. And other people, as that little graphic above shows, are more likely to react to the call of “fire” rather than “rape”. No one on that bus was about to step in and tell that guy off because at least he was keeping his crazy contained to our seats.

People suck sometimes.

(Source: adventuringasnotagrownup)

Reblogged from unclewhisky

sexbangs:

august 31st, 11:59pm

image

september 1st, 12:00am

image

Reblogged from schrodingerskat

(Source: real-hiphophead)

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