A Petsmart where everyone who works there is a dog.

The Boy Who Cried Sheep

Jake wasn’t your usual type of snake.

Sure, he possessed all the usual physical characteristics - long cylinder body, an ominous rattle and pitchforked tongue, however, the difference between Jake and his snake peers was Jake was not a hunter. In fact, Jake had never killed anything. Not a gopher, not a groundhog, not even an ant accidentally as he aspirated by their hill every evening on his way back from his daily snake adventures.

None of the other snakes in Jake’s snake town noticed Jake did not hunt. They noticed every gopher grazing,  grasshopper grouping and bird eggs being. They hung large tapestries of mouse skin and wore the egg shells with pride - allowing all snakes with eyes to see what prominent predators they were.

Years past, Jake ate willows and wandflowers and even occasionally a dead wasp or two. He wandered far past Snake City limits and found large boulders warm with the desert sun to wrap his lengthy torso around; squeezing as tightly as possible, releasing the very same energies his cohorts did mincing with mice.

One day he happened upon a tater tot and it was the most beautiful day of his life.

"I just want to pour my soul out on someone and not have to worry about the mess I’ve made."

Andrea Slicker (via expiry)

(Source: psych-facts, via amandariot)

rnicrophone:

bombing:

cop: who the hell ordered all these pizzas

me: you said i got one phone call

image

(via ruinedchildhood)

Women in Chicago being arrested for wearing one piece bathing suits, without the required leg coverings. 1922 (x) (x)

(Source: vintagegal, via memewhore)

(light grumbling)

(light grumbling)

Chewy dum bop

Chewy dum bop

Business math, whatever.

Business math, whatever.

You’re dead. (at First Street Ale House)

You’re dead. (at First Street Ale House)