Link 27 Sep 1 note Bored on a Saturday night finds out Amon Amarth is playing two hours away»

yup.  I “memed” myself.

Text 26 Sep 599,287 notes

asian:

If you think about it potatoes don’t really get all that much credit

they’re fucking awesome

this one thing here

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can be made into:

different variations of fries

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regular,

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curly,

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waffle.

It can be made into chips

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or ruffly 

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you can make hashbrowns with it

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even a salad

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add some fuckin cheese to those potatoes

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you can have it sliced and diced

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or baked

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you can make tater tots

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hell you can even eat the skin

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or just have little potato nuggets

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thank u potatoes

potato appreciation post

Don’t forget about mashed potatoes, duchess potatoes, potato pancakes, potato bread or potato soup!

(Source: spoopy-dad)

Text 24 Sep 5 notes Go Fuck Yourself. :)

Oh how smart you are!  

Oh how intelligence spurts 

from your fingertips,

like runny shit from your asshole

or rather, your mouth.

.

Look bitch…

.

Fuck you.

Fuck you, and fuck off.  

Fuck you, and follow me, not.

Fuck you and take your naive labeling attitude 

and shove it up your ill-informed ass.

.

How long has it been since you’ve known me?

How long have we been friends, 

and have talked to each other,

and have have hung out?

.

Oh…  

.

I…  I guess you don’t know me,

and we aren’t fucking friends,

we do not talk or hang out,

so I guess you wouldn’t have ever known

that my uncle, the greatest guy in my life is gay,

and I do not run scared from his homosexuality.

I guess you wouldn’t have ever known 

that I had a crush on a girl who is gay,

wrote a poem or two for her on here

and I did not run scared from her homosexuality.

I guess you would not have known 

that I spent the day at my county fair in 2005 with my gay friend Jason

and I did not run scared from his homosexuality.

I guess you would not have known that 

I have a friend in Croatia,

and a friend in Oklahoma who are both gay

who I communicate with them regularly,

and that I do not run from their homosexuality.

.

Dare I say again that,

you don’t know me?

.

Dare I acknowledge your 

worthless opinion about the kind of person I am

that you based off a single post that

I took pleasure in reblogging to my dashboard.

.

Dare I cower away 

when I am accused of being something that 

I am not?

.

Well,

there will be no petty arguments with a person

or people,

or rather, fucking clueless dunces who are, (cue sarcasm)

on such a higher level than myself,

who have never met me and yet know me so much better

than my own goddamn self.  

.

When you accuse me,

when you call me out,

when you go out of your way to try to sound smart,

try to feel good and give me some 

"shame on you" bullshit opinion,

expect a poetic backlash,

because arguing, you see,

is not worth my time.

Text 23 Sep 2 notes A Day in the life #1

Sitting in the hospital lobby, I yawn. I decide to go get a cup of coffee from the little cantina/ cafe area.

.

cashier: cappuccino or coffee?

David: coffee.

C: $1.09 please.

D: Okay (hand cashier my debit card)

C: Do you need a receipt?

D: Yes please.

C: Umm… (seems to struggle with printing a receipt)

D: You said 1.09?

C: Uh, yeah.

D: No problem, I can remember that. Thanks have a great day.

C: Thanks, you too.

.

I go back to my seat, continue shopping online for gun parts, accessories and apparel of course and the cashier comes walking up to me. This doesn’t surprise me. -An attractive male in his twenties sporting a slightly un-kept beard, masculine musk composed of yesterdays dried sweat and stale cologne, and a pair of $80.00 nike’s on my feet.- You can imagine how a man of my stature is used to such attention.

.

Anyway, back to reality, the cashier walks up to me.

.

C: Sir?

D: Yes?

.

She mumbles something with a small and nervous voice. My idea is that she wanted to give me my receipt. This interruption, taking me away from learning more about the FN Five-seven is something that at 8:38am in San Andreas is something I will forgive. I walk to the register, and she walks back to get someone who I assume has more authority, or is more qualified to get done what needs to get done.

.

D: Did you need me to sign a receipt or something?

Manager: No, you were accidentally charged $101.09.

D: Expensive cup of coffee…

.

She sighs, expressing embarrassment.

.

I immediately feel smug. Having worked retail and service/food service industry for over 6 years, I know how easy it is to make a mistake. No intentional harm had been done. No one went out of their way to inconvenience me.

.

The manager makes a phone call, goes through a short series of steps, refunds my money and gives me my receipt.

.

M: I’m so sorry. If there are any issues, please come back and we will take care of it.

D: Not a problem. It’s alright, things happen.

M: Thank you for your patience and understanding, the coffee is on us.

D: Of course, thank you, have a great day.

That my friends, is how you get a free cup of coffee at the hospital.

Text 23 Sep 1 note

thesmithyofmysoul replied to your photo “The highlight of my day. Poetry and guns.”

in such good company! cool!

I know right!  I’ve decided to never move, stay single (or marry an old woman with lots of money) and buy lots and lots of guns and then die at the age of 387.  My skin will still be tight, my health will be impeccable, and I will have learned to breathe underwater without gills.  Oh and the death will be due to fighting an a two headed albino grizzly bear, bare handed.  We will both die.  Her because I will have been extensively trained in bear tactics, and me because I will have neglected to stretch before the fight.

.

I really like what I just wrote.  It’s ridiculous.  

.

Anyway, I thought you’d appreciate the photo. :)

Video 23 Sep 253,625 notes

This is one of the more “home-hitting” posts that brings up really personal feelings, bruised emotions and lots of memories for me.  WITH THE EXCEPTION OF DRESSING LIKE A WOMAN.  just making that clear is all.  

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Every other post though was pretty much spot on with how I grew up in adolescence.  I was really sheltered compared to all the other kids in town because my step father didn’t let me go anywhere or do anything.  I had a terrible body image of myself, had crazy low self esteem, was physically weak, couldn’t do a single pull up until I was 17.  My first time getting drunk was the day I turned 18.  I never played with dolls, or did makeup.  I’m straight, always have been, always will be, but I did live without a father figure for a while, and my mother taught me how to cook, clean, sew, and showed me different kinds of crafts.  I used these skills to do things for people, like make gifts, or to give baked goods at holidays or to make soups for my neighbors when they were ill.  And yet, later on growing up I was criticized for so much of this.  My heart and mind were stuck in darkness for so long.  

.

I’m happy now.  Life treats me good because I treat life good.  I’m a grown man, and if someone wants to fuck with me I either laugh or give it right back to them.  I’m in great shape, and have no quarrels, really.  I’ve overcome a lot of mental health issues and obstacles but I still deal with a lot of them daily.  Anxiety, for one.  But I’ve recognized and acknowledged my coping skills, and it gets me through each day.

.

So this isn’t a poor me thing.

.

Basically, thank you and kudos, to the artist who made this.  

.

p.s.  I don’t care how many people tell me it’s okay to play with fucking dolls and to wear dresses, that’s not me.  I’m straight.  Thank you for fucking understanding.  (And any pictures of me wearing a woman’s top at WORK is because it makes my co workers laugh.)

(Source: homo-club)

via The Noe.
Photo 22 Sep 4 notes In the good company of an Austrian and a Russian. This house is ethnicity friendly. This will go down as one of the richest and happiest days of my life.

In the good company of an Austrian and a Russian. This house is ethnicity friendly. This will go down as one of the richest and happiest days of my life.

Text 22 Sep 1 note Try this on your next “first date.”

When courting, dating, flirting, or getting to know someone you have an interest in, instead of asking what their “type” is, it’s better to be bold and ask if you are their type.

Text 22 Sep 2 notes and…

One of the things I hated most about going to the clinic was getting my weight checked.

Not today.

I’ve literally lost over 50 pounds since May.

I was pretty shocked. It made think about what kind of shape I’d be in if I hadn’t cheated on my diet as many times as I have, and had exercised on the days I hadn’t due to laziness.

.

So as far as getting fit for training, I am more than confident.  I’m actually incredibly excited.

Text 22 Sep

kittygory replied to your post “CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK”

Sawyer…what’s a CHIP…ooops, as CHP? :P

:)  California Highway Patrol.  Similar to a Colorado State Trooper, or a Texas Ranger.  It’s referred to as a paramilitary department.  It’s quite a different job than being a sheriff or city officer.  Not to discredit those kinds of officers at all.  The academy is 27 weeks long, and from what I’ve heard is very comparable to military boot camp.  

.

But yeah, I’ve feeling pretty good about this.  The officer I spoke with earlier told me that it actually took him seven years before he got a spot in the department.  If it takes me that long, well, that’d just be okay.  I’ve got a secure job now that I love and if it takes some time to get into the academy, i’ll still be okay!  Gives me more training time anyway!  :)

Text 22 Sep 5 notes CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK

So I was getting tools out of my truck earlier, and I noticed a CHP driving through my condominium complex’s parking lot.  I waved him down and asked him about applying.  I asked him if it’d help my chances of getting accepted into the academy if I had a degree in criminal justice.  He said it didn’t make a difference sooooo  I will be applying on November 3rd and hopefully testing thereafter.  We will see.  I am being hopeful.

Photo 22 Sep 4 notes The highlight of my day.  Poetry and guns.

The highlight of my day. Poetry and guns.

Link 22 Sep 6 notes Autumn»

thesmithyofmysoul:

Autumn has burst like a feather pillow; her brassy

patois talks itself to disarray. I am all overcome

by her hype and her fodder, and I watch you walking

away through the leaves, hiding your words in the purl

of your smirk. And you are autumn too, ingénue,

your sullied prercosity rocks me;…

Autumn is my favorite season, and strangely I’m not completely able to entertain the reason as to why.  There are feelings I get when Autumn comes around that I can’t explain even to myself but I don’t care, I love them.  I love Autumn.  

.

So this here, what a poem it is!  A lovely piece of course, written by my favorite poet.  The newest piece that has failed to disappoint my expectations.  New words, always new words that strike my senses like new flavors of appetizers and they way they flow to me is that she hand stitched her poem rather than pressing down continually onto plastic keys.

.

I love this “nothingy little poem.”

Text 22 Sep 1 note Love, Made.

A good friend came into the shop

led to

a joke at the workplace

led to

an invitation

led to

a short drive home from work

led to

a walk across the street

led to

a seat on her porch

led to

conversations held between her, my mother, and myself

led to

beer and wine

led to 

my mothers departure

led to

myself staying, finishing my drink

led to 

more conversation

led to 

laughter

led to

truths

led to 

interest and drunken curiosity

led to

further questioning

led to 

more than answers

led to 

dinner

led to 

a sunset we payed no attention to

led to 

more wine we’d share

led to

words I cannot remember

led to 

our lips touching

led to

our hands grasping each other

led to

the removal of garments

led to 

hesitance 

led to 

walking up stairs together

led to

mutual lust caving in on us

led to

the both of us giving in

led to

fires burning hotter in both of our lonely hearts

led to 

passionate movements

led to

compassionate words spoken

led to

release

led to 

cuddling

led to 

me sleeping over

led to

waking up next to her

led to

her leg over my thigh

led to

doing some of those things again

led to 

laying there with her awhile

led to 

a few questions here and there

led to

her saying we were cool

led to

me kissing her forehead 

led to

walking across the street to my house

led to

showering, thinking

led to 

admitting to myself it wouldn’t work out

led to

being content with a great friendship

led to

something I think might be called love

led to 

the realization that sometimes, it may only happen once.

Text 21 Sep Harsh Reality

How to tell if your cat is not plotting to kill you?

Well, you can’t.  You are already dead.  

Dead people don’t know how to tell about anything,

especially not the cat that killed them in their previous life.


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