I Lost My
I Lost My

I Lost My

Finding Myself
Finding Myself

Finding Myself

His
His

His

Please Everyone
Please Everyone

Please Everyone

Finding
Finding

Finding

Https
Https

Https

Have
Have

Have

While
While

While

Trying
Trying

Trying

The
The

The

🔥 | Latest

Apparently, Ass, and Drunk: snarling-through-our-smiles I once lost my keys at a frat house. My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully- disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch. Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out do not remember The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house. I stood there, right in front of the front door. This was a novel experience for me. I'd never been at a frat house in broad daylight before. A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing. "I lost my keys in here last night, I called back. "I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?" He opened the door and gestured for me o come in. "Go wherever you want." I'd never seen a frat house post-party Derore. Wandering up the stairs a by hungover and still-drunk frat boys sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light. A few of them threw puzzled glances my way. I'm sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination. I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller- esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed. "Do you like dog movies?" he asked, voice from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket. I told him I did. e mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing. I told him I was looking my keys. "Sorry, I haven't seen any keys around bere I didn't doubt him. Twenty minutes had passed. I'd searched just about every bedroom and nuclear- at dumn-site of a bathroom in that house. I'd given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates' forgiveness and get a new set copied. As I stood there in the hallway, silently a particularly burly frat boy approached me. "You need help with something? "I lost my keys here last night and I can't find them, I've looked everywhere. "What do they look like? I'll put it into the group chat. He was already pulling out his phone. No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell. It was worth a shot. "Um, it's just a ring of keys. The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big. Like bright pink, you can't miss He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat. "Alright, I sent the message out. Good luck. e turned and left. And with that, A few moments later, I heard a distant and it was getting louder and louder, One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me. "Someone tell the girl!" One of them shouted, faceless in the mob. "Girl! Hey, GIRL! We found your keys, girl!!! They circled around me. I hadn't felt that old, One of them split himself off from the crowd. "Are these -"he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, "your keys? And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring. "Yes,"I whispered. "Oh my god, yes." "EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YYYYYYYYYY!!" The cheer went up. Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs. I thanked them again profusely. There was a scattered round of "no problems" and then, just suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night. gatorfisch THIS is boys will be boys Nice Frathouse
Apparently, Ass, and Drunk: snarling-through-our-smiles
 I once lost my keys at a frat house.
 My drunk ass had actually walked home
 without them, pounded on my apartment
 door, gotten let in by my rightfully-
 disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to
 pass out on the couch. Apparently I
 puked in the toilet before passing out
 do not remember
 The next morning, I schlepped back to the
 frat house. I stood there, right in front of
 the front door. This was a novel
 experience for me. I'd never been at a frat
 house in broad daylight before.
 A boy, presumably, of the house, asked
 me what I was doing.
 "I lost my keys in here last night, I called
 back. "I was seeing if I could go in and
 look for them?"
 He opened the door and gestured for me
 o come in.
 "Go wherever you want."
 I'd never seen a frat house post-party
 Derore. Wandering up the stairs a
 by
 hungover and still-drunk frat boys
 sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food
 and showers like moths to a porch light.
 A few of them threw puzzled glances my
 way. I'm sure they thought I was some
 post-bacchanalia hallucination.
 I entered one room where a boy was
 drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-
 esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of
 his room from his bed.
 "Do you like dog movies?" he asked, voice
 from the fact that his face was squished
 against his pillow and half-buried by his
 blanket.
 I told him I did.
 e mumbled again, pleased, and asked
 what I was doing. I told him I was looking
 my keys.
 "Sorry, I haven't seen any keys around
 bere
 I didn't doubt him.
 Twenty minutes had passed. I'd searched
 just about every bedroom and nuclear-
 at dumn-site of a bathroom in that
 house. I'd given up on ever finding my
 keys and was prepared to beg my
 roommates' forgiveness and get a new
 set copied.
 As I stood there in the hallway, silently
 a particularly
 burly frat boy approached me.
 "You need help with something?
 "I lost my keys here last night and I can't
 find them, I've looked everywhere.
 "What do they look like? I'll put it into the
 group chat. He was already pulling out
 his phone.
 No one ever checks a group chat, I
 thought, but what the hell. It was worth a
 shot. "Um, it's just a ring of keys. The
 keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like
 yea big. Like bright pink, you can't miss
 He nodded, presumably typing this
 description faithfully into the group chat.
 "Alright, I sent the message out. Good
 luck.
 e turned and left.
 And with that,
 A few moments later, I heard a distant
 and it was getting louder and louder, One
 assumes that how I felt in that moment
 was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest
 stampede through the ravine as a horde
 large young men all thundered down
 the stairs, making a beeling for me.
 "Someone tell the girl!" One of them
 shouted, faceless in the mob. "Girl! Hey,
 GIRL! We found your keys, girl!!!
 They circled around me. I hadn't felt that
 old, One of them split himself off from
 the crowd.
 "Are these -"he pulled out a ring of keys
 from his pocket, "your keys?
 And lo, there was the distinctive bright
 millennial pink cat keychain dangling off
 the ring.
 "Yes,"I whispered. "Oh my god, yes."
 "EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
 YYYYYYYYYY!!"
 The cheer went up.
 Turns out he found them in the bathroom
 upstairs. I thanked them again profusely.
 There was a scattered round of "no
 problems" and then, just
 suddenly as
 they descended, they all dispersed, like
 ships in the night.
 gatorfisch
 THIS is boys will be boys
Nice Frathouse

Nice Frathouse

Best Friend, Tumblr, and Lost: captaincrowley:Stuff happened. I lost my best friend.
Best Friend, Tumblr, and Lost: captaincrowley:Stuff happened. I lost my best friend.

captaincrowley:Stuff happened. I lost my best friend.

England, Facebook, and Friends: Gay couple beaten up for refusing to kiss for men's entertainment f P Melania Geymonat (R) and her girlfriend Chris were beaten up by a gang of men on a London bus (Picture: Sam Webb) concentrated-sunshine: yayfeminism: A gay couple in London were beaten by a gang of men, after refusing to kiss. One of the women, Melania Getmonat wrote this on facebook: “Last Wednesday, I had a date with Chris. We got on the Night Bus, heading for her place in Camden Town, climbed upstairs and took the front seats. We must have kissed or something because these guys came after us. I don’t remember if they were already there or if they got on after us. There were at least four of them. They started behaving like hooligans, demanding that we kissed so they could enjoy watching, calling us ‘lesbians’ and describing sexual positions. I don’t remember the whole episode, but the word ‘scissors’ stuck in my mind. It was only them and us there. In an attempt to calm things down, I started making jokes. I thought this might make them go away. Chris even pretended she was sick, but they kept on harassing us, throwing us coins and becoming more enthusiastic about it. The next thing I know is that Chris is in the middle of the bus fighting with them. On an impulse, I went over there only to find her face bleeding and three of them beating her up. The next thing I know is I’m being punched. I got dizzy at the sight of my blood and fell back. I don’t remember whether or not I lost consciousness. Suddenly the bus had stopped, the police were there and I was bleeding all over. Our stuff was stolen as well. I don’t know yet if my nose is broken, and I haven’t been able to go back to work, but what upsets me the most is that VIOLENCE HAS BECOME A COMMON THING, that sometimes it’s necessary to see a woman bleeding after having been punched to feel some kind of impact. I’m tired of being taken as a SEXUAL OBJECT, of finding out that these situations are usual, of gay friends who were beaten up JUST BECAUSE. We have to endure verbal harassment AND CHAUVINIST, MISOGYNISTIC AND HOMOPHOBIC VIOLENCE because when you stand up for yourself shit like this happens. By the way, I am thankful to all the women and men in my life that understand that HAVING BALLS MEANS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. I just hope that in June, Pride Month, stuff like this can be spoken out loudly so they STOP HAPPENING!” Gay couple beaten for refusing to kiss They have CCTV footage of the motherfuckers, put that shit on the met Twitter feed..blast their faces all over the place and you’ll have them in custody by tea time. What the fucking fuck
England, Facebook, and Friends: Gay couple beaten up for refusing to
 kiss for men's entertainment
 f
 P
 Melania Geymonat (R) and her girlfriend Chris were beaten up by a
 gang of men on a London bus (Picture: Sam Webb)
concentrated-sunshine:
yayfeminism:


A gay couple in London were beaten by a gang of men, after refusing to kiss.
One of the women, Melania Getmonat wrote this on facebook:
“Last Wednesday, I had a date with Chris. We got on the Night Bus, heading for her place in Camden Town, climbed upstairs and took the front seats. We must have kissed or something because these guys came after us. I don’t remember if they were already there or if they got on after us. There were at least four of them. They started behaving like hooligans, demanding that we kissed so they could enjoy watching, calling us ‘lesbians’ and describing sexual positions. I don’t remember the whole episode, but the word ‘scissors’ stuck in my mind. It was only them and us there. In an attempt to calm things down, I started making jokes. I thought this might make them go away. Chris even pretended she was sick, but they kept on harassing us, throwing us coins and becoming more enthusiastic about it. The next thing I know is that Chris is in the middle of the bus fighting with them. On an impulse, I went over there only to find her face bleeding and three of them beating her up. The next thing I know is I’m being punched. I got dizzy at the sight of my blood and fell back. I don’t remember whether or not I lost consciousness. Suddenly the bus had stopped, the police were there and I was bleeding all over. Our stuff was stolen as well. I don’t know yet if my nose is broken, and I haven’t been able to go back to work, but what upsets me the most is that VIOLENCE HAS BECOME A COMMON THING, that sometimes it’s necessary to see a woman bleeding after having been punched to feel some kind of impact. I’m tired of being taken as a SEXUAL OBJECT, of finding out that these situations are usual, of gay friends who were beaten up JUST BECAUSE. We have to endure verbal harassment AND CHAUVINIST, MISOGYNISTIC AND HOMOPHOBIC VIOLENCE because when you stand up for yourself shit like this happens. By the way, I am thankful to all the women and men in my life that understand that HAVING BALLS MEANS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. I just hope that in June, Pride Month, stuff like this can be spoken out loudly so they STOP HAPPENING!”


Gay couple beaten for refusing to kiss
They have CCTV footage of the motherfuckers,  put that shit on the met Twitter feed..blast their faces all over the place and you’ll have them in custody by tea time.


What the fucking fuck

concentrated-sunshine: yayfeminism: A gay couple in London were beaten by a gang of men, after refusing to kiss. One of the women, Melania...

Animals, Bones, and Drugs: Humans of New York 5 hrs "I used heroin for ten years. It wasn't a very good life, as you'd expect. I had my son taken from me. I lost my job at the Fiat factory. I spent all my time trying to find money, find dealers, and stay away from police. I hated myself. I couldn't face anyone. Then one day my friend's dog had puppies. I'd never had a dog before, but I always liked animals- so I told him to give me the smallest and ugliest one he had. The one nobody else wanted. And that's how I got Joe. Joe was the angel of my life. We understood each other. There was no need for words. He followed me around all the time. He slept next to me on the street. The moment I opened my eyes in the morning he would lick my face. He gave me self-esteem. I was a complete loser but at least I could take care of Joe. I could bring him to the park. I could bring him to the vet. I could raise enough money to get his medication. He's the reason I was finally able to quit heroin. Because if something happened to me, what would happen to him? So I got clean. It was hard but I got clean. Joe lived for another thirteen years. He got a tumor in 2012 and held on a few more months. I barely survived it. I was able to stay off drugs, but I promised myself that I'd never get another dog. It's just too painful. But two years ago I found Leica beneath a mobile home. She was all skin and bones. She'd been abandoned. I didn't have a choice. For the first few months I called her Joe. But I had to stop. Because Joe'ss gone. And the name doesn't really matter, anyway. It just matters that I love her." (Rome, Italy) i thought this belonged here a very wholesome story
Animals, Bones, and Drugs: Humans of New York
 5 hrs
 "I used heroin for ten years. It wasn't a very good life, as you'd expect. I had
 my son taken from me. I lost my job at the Fiat factory. I spent all my time
 trying to find money, find dealers, and stay away from police. I hated myself.
 I couldn't face anyone. Then one day my friend's dog had puppies. I'd never
 had a dog before, but I always liked animals- so I told him to give me the
 smallest and ugliest one he had. The one nobody else wanted. And that's
 how I got Joe. Joe was the angel of my life. We understood each other.
 There was no need for words. He followed me around all the time. He slept
 next to me on the street. The moment I opened my eyes in the morning he
 would lick my face. He gave me self-esteem. I was a complete loser but at
 least I could take care of Joe. I could bring him to the park. I could bring him
 to the vet. I could raise enough money to get his medication. He's the reason
 I was finally able to quit heroin. Because if something happened to me, what
 would happen to him? So I got clean. It was hard but I got clean. Joe lived
 for another thirteen years. He got a tumor in 2012 and held on a few more
 months. I barely survived it. I was able to stay off drugs, but I promised
 myself that I'd never get another dog. It's just too painful. But two years ago I
 found Leica beneath a mobile home. She was all skin and bones. She'd
 been abandoned. I didn't have a choice. For the first few months I called her
 Joe. But I had to stop. Because Joe'ss gone. And the name doesn't really
 matter, anyway. It just matters that I love her."
 (Rome, Italy)
i thought this belonged here a very wholesome story

i thought this belonged here a very wholesome story