1930’s Teen Delinquents
i.e. life role models
I’m just gonna reblog this again because it’s one of my favorite pictures ever.
That girl in the chair seems like such a badass I bet she was the leader of the crew.
I want to write about these girls.
When I was a teenager my mother found my grandmother’s (her mother) school scrapbook. It included things like photos, notes, and a two page spread of every demerit she ever received over the course of her formal education. Each of them set aside with little tags like she was so fucking proud of them. They were all for things like, “Unladylike behavior” or, “Skirt too short” or, “refuses to listen to authority”. I loved that spread so much.
I always have to reblog this.
wow CIA created HIV/AIDS?
how bout no
Wrong. They did spread it into the African American and gay communities. Just like they pushed crack in the ghettos to fund their projects.
They’re not THAT creepy, just you’re run of the mill conspiracy theories that you normally hear about. Here I was thinking I’d be reading something new and totally twisted.
You say there are people who think there’s more to the JFK assassination? You don’t say!
CIA didn’t create HIV or AIDS. for one, you can’t create “AIDS”. it’s a syndrome caused by CD4+ T cell counts to be below 200 cells per microliter, which is caused by HIV. HIV is a virus and was first found in non-human primates, known then as SIV (simian rather than human) and was first transferred to humans in the early 20th century (this doesn’t necessarily mean sex, it could have been blood contact).
The Paul McCartney one always questions me but I don’t want to ruin my music life haha
Reblogging for the awesome person who knows immunology up there. You go, random person!
Reversed order = genius! Free hugs, all around!
I don’t know why this is so great, but it is.
OH GOD IT JUST LOOKS SO GENTLE
SHHH LET ME LOVE YOU
just look at Jim’s face omfg
AsylumWaiting Room of the Big Three.
it’s funny because it looks like the sherlock fandom are sane here
Sherlock bustled about the kitchen, throwing a cupboard door open and pushing aside a box of nicotine patches to retrieve two mismatched mugs. A kettle whistled plaintively in the background, like it had been trying to draw attention to itself for a while now. Setting the mugs aside, Sherlock absently pulled the kettle off the stove, poured tea into the two mugs, and carried them into the living room.
Doctor Who was sprawled over the same chair it had collapsed into last night, when it had appeared at the door muttering inanely about lost regenerations and knackered navigations systems. It made a whining noise as Sherlock tucked the shock blanket it had thrown off in the night back around its shoulders.
Supernatural was in similar straits, curled up on the floor with a throw pillow and a tattered trench coat around its shoulders and alternating between sobbing and muttering about domesticity potential.
A thudding on the stairs indicated the ruckus had finally awoke Merlin, who poked its head into the room, hair sticking up at all angels as it tied its scarf around its neck. Blinking blearily at the mess, it seemed to realize what had occurred when it picked up a discarded bow-tie from the floor, holding it between forefinger and thumb, “Is it that time already?”
“It was bad this year,” Sherlock whispered, trying not to exacerbate the already fragile fandoms under its care.
“I remember what that was like,” Merlin muttered, running a hand through its hair and pulling a cape off the nearby coat rack, “I’ll go to the store. We’re out of milk again. May as well pick up some fish fingers, custard, and salt.”
Supernatural gurgled something quietly.
“No, I won’t forget the pie.”
I SWEAR TO GOD TUMBLR NEVER FUCKING CHANGE