brainbubblegum:

imageimageimageimageimageimage

I wasn’t able to draw at the time the Pacific Rim sequel was announced, so to compensate, I animated all the drift compatibles dancing horribly in celebration of the upcOMING ANIMATED SERIES 8V

  • me: [gently touches the sleeping cat]
  • cat: [makes a tiny cat noise]
  • me: ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooooooooooooooooooooo ohh noo ohhhhh nooooooo oh no oh nooooo oh my god oh noooo

elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:

3-2-1queer:

When I was in fifth grade I realized I liked girls but I was like “that’s a problem for another day” and literally forgot about it and then in like eleventh grade I was like “oh my god”

YOU PROCRASTINATED REALIZING YOUR SEXUALITY THAT’S IT YOU WIN YOU ARE THE QUEEN OF THE PROCRASTINATORS i bow to you

elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:

3-2-1queer:

When I was in fifth grade I realized I liked girls but I was like “that’s a problem for another day” and literally forgot about it and then in like eleventh grade I was like “oh my god”

YOU PROCRASTINATED REALIZING YOUR SEXUALITY THAT’S IT YOU WIN YOU ARE THE QUEEN OF THE PROCRASTINATORS i bow to you

Anonymous asked:

What's the most illegal thing you ever did?

almanzapedia:

At Stanford there was this Professor who was a total bitch and she taught British Literature, which was cool. Except she taught only her opinions of the books and it didn’t help me as a writer. I went to school to learn new things to improve my craft, not have someone else’s opinions carved onto my forehead.

So anyway, for our final project, she asked us to write a ten page paper on why the color symbolism in Othello was so significant. I did some research and it turned out that she did her entire graduate thesis on this very subject. I was mad. This wasn’t teaching, this was boosting her ego. SO I wrote a ten page essay on why color symbolism in Othello wasn’t significant, satirizing it to the point of no return, saying that her opinion was an opinion and shouldn’t be taken seriously.

SHe failed me, needless to say. So in retaliation, I responded by baking a batch of brownies laced with weed and laxatives and delivered them myself to the professor hours before her big graduation speech. I told her that it was a peace offering, my way of apologizing and asking if I could do anything to fix my grade.

She refused to fix my grade.

In the end, she shit herself on stage.

I didn’t regret it.