Manage Me I'm A Mess.
Someone who wishes they could be somebody else. But doesn't everyone?

Sarah. Resident of Slough, UK.
This blog is my guilty pleasure,
Enjoy.

For all you stalkers
instagram :. s_elizabeth_r

(Source: agent--who)

bitrates:

hannibaleatspussy:

melancholicdragons:

what if dicks had mouths

but robin thicke already exists

Reblogged from meesterseth, Posted by lovelycontusions.
Rami Kadi - Fall Winter 2014 2015

(Source: gam-ora)

mathematicalpotato:

perchu:

shslvalkyrie:

What a time to be alive.

aRE YOU KIDDING ME? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME. THIS IS CRAP. THIS IS A PEICE OF CRAP. NO HUMAN SHOULD EVER HAVE THIS MUCH POWER. THIS IS FREAKING BS. THERE WAS A SET AMOUNT OF ICING ON EACH FREAKING OREO AND THATS HOW IT SHOULD BE, GIVE US THIS MUCH POWER THE ICING WILL BE SO UNEASILY SPLIT UP THAT WE WILL HAVE LIKE 20 COOKIES LEFT AND NO FREAKING ICING LEFT. THIS IS RIDICULOUS. THIS IS THE KIND OF CRAP THAT DESTROY SOCIETY AND TOPPLES THE GOVERNMENT. THIS IS TRYING TO SPARK GREED AND LUST AND GLUTTONY INTO THE HEARTS OF EVERYONE, THIS IS FREAKING EVIL DONT BUY INTO THIS CRAP. SCREW THIS,AND  SCREW YOU MOREOS

oh my gosh the original moreos post

(Source: poyzn)

Reblogged from idleteendirtbag, Posted by not-blonde.
not-blonde:

Winona Ryder in high school
"I was wearing an old Salvation Army-shop boy’s suit. I had a hall pass, so I went to the girl’s bathroom. I heard people saying "hey, faggot". They slammed my head into a locker. I fell to the ground and they started to kick the shit out of me. I had to have stitches. The school kick me out, not the bullies.
Years later, I went to a coffee shop in Petaluma, and I ran into one of the girls who’d kicked me, and she said “Winona, Winona, can I have your autograph?” and I said “Do you remember me? I went to Kenilworth. Remember how, in seventh grade, you beat up that kid?” and she said, “Kind of”, and I said “That was me. Go fuck yourself!”

not-blonde:

Winona Ryder in high school

"I was wearing an old Salvation Army-shop boy’s suit. I had a hall pass, so I went to the girl’s bathroom. I heard people saying "hey, faggot". They slammed my head into a locker. I fell to the ground and they started to kick the shit out of me. I had to have stitches. The school kick me out, not the bullies.

Years later, I went to a coffee shop in Petaluma, and I ran into one of the girls who’d kicked me, and she said “Winona, Winona, can I have your autograph?” and I said “Do you remember me? I went to Kenilworth. Remember how, in seventh grade, you beat up that kid?” and she said, “Kind of”, and I said “That was me. Go fuck yourself!”

onecelestialbeing:

cyosecret:

kckilgannon:

bossrobotdad:

phantomessangel:

Don’t Leave your kids in the car.

Spread this like wildfire. This man, Terry Williams, made a PSA to spread the reality of what little children go through when locked in a hot car. 

As it says in the USAtoday article: 

A child’s body temperature can increase three to five times faster than an adult’s. That means only minutes left alone in a car can be fatal for a child.

"I’m sitting in the car with the windows rolled up cause I want to know how it feels to be left in the car," 

"As you can see, I’m sweating, like I can barely breathe out here, but my system is stronger than these little kids systems."

Tumblr I’m counting on to get this going. Spread it like wildfire.

This is a topic that make me sob every time I see reports on the news of children or animals suffering from being left in a hot car. These innocent lives who suffer like this cannot protect themselves.

So, please take the time to spread this message and help people to stop and think before considering to leave precious lives locked in a vehicle. 

More information on Terry Williams and his PSA campaign go here: 

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2014/07/10/man-social-media-car-deaths-north-carolina/12468881/

I remember hearing about several deaths involving this shit on the radio god damn.

How can someone even justify leaving a helpless infant alone in a car at all?

SIGNAL BOOST.

Seriously I had people saying shit like “Oh it can happen, you can forget about your baby for a minute.”

Really? I dont know how you forget about your own baby even for a second. 

the-fault-in-our-youtubers:

the internet summed up in one gif set

(Source: teen-wolf)

This is one of my favorite posts because that cat’s fucking name is fucking meatloaf

(Source: tastefullyoffensive)

notchicken:

notchicken:

guess what I just got!!!

image

image

image

image

image

meet Spartacus everyone….

"If you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph."

Unknown (via thexpotent)

This hit me harder than I expected.

(via isarian450)

wow

(via jesussbabymomma)

(Source: foreverthecuriousone)

Reblogged from ejacutastic, Posted by ianference.
ianference:

The hardest abandoned building shoot of my life.  On May 31, 2007, I brought someone on a first date to Hudson River State Hospital in Poughkeepsie, NY.  (Yes, asylums are a not-unusual first date location for me.)  Walking towards the sprawling Kirkbride-plan asylum, I smelled something like a BBQ - and assumed some other travelers had brought a grill and were cooking on the roof of Admin or something.  But when we got into the basement, the smell was stronger.  That seemed odd, but I didn’t put two and two together.  Then we climbed up into the Male Ward tower.  I looked out the window.  My jaw dropped.
About a half-hour before we parked and started walking in, there had been a terrible lightning storm which we waited out in the car.  Apparently, during this storm, lightning had struck the century-and-a-half-old asylum’s roof and it caught fire.  When I looked out that window, I saw the roof of my favorite ward in the entire building completely ablaze.  My date wanted to leave the burning building.  I wanted to stay.
I stayed inside the asylum for three and a half hours, photographing the fire as it crept closer and closer to the ward I was in.  All of a sudden, the tower began to rapidly fill with a dense, acrid black smoke.  I packed what gear I could, accidentally leaving behind a blanket my late grandmother gave me, among other things.  I held my breath for over a minute as I blindly climbed down five flights of stairs, got back into the basement, and made my way towards the exit.  And that was my goodbye to the Male Wards.
The only analogy which seems fitting here are the three times I’ve sat by the bedside of a dying loved one as the life slipped out of them.  This was truly a tragic occurrence, because it wouldn’t have happened if the lightning rods hadn’t been taken off the building.  It was over a year before I went back; when I did, I found burnt-up scraps of my grandmother’s blanket.
To see this larger, or to buy a print, head on over to my new SmugMug gallery.

ianference:

The hardest abandoned building shoot of my life.  On May 31, 2007, I brought someone on a first date to Hudson River State Hospital in Poughkeepsie, NY.  (Yes, asylums are a not-unusual first date location for me.)  Walking towards the sprawling Kirkbride-plan asylum, I smelled something like a BBQ - and assumed some other travelers had brought a grill and were cooking on the roof of Admin or something.  But when we got into the basement, the smell was stronger.  That seemed odd, but I didn’t put two and two together.  Then we climbed up into the Male Ward tower.  I looked out the window.  My jaw dropped.

About a half-hour before we parked and started walking in, there had been a terrible lightning storm which we waited out in the car.  Apparently, during this storm, lightning had struck the century-and-a-half-old asylum’s roof and it caught fire.  When I looked out that window, I saw the roof of my favorite ward in the entire building completely ablaze.  My date wanted to leave the burning building.  I wanted to stay.

I stayed inside the asylum for three and a half hours, photographing the fire as it crept closer and closer to the ward I was in.  All of a sudden, the tower began to rapidly fill with a dense, acrid black smoke.  I packed what gear I could, accidentally leaving behind a blanket my late grandmother gave me, among other things.  I held my breath for over a minute as I blindly climbed down five flights of stairs, got back into the basement, and made my way towards the exit.  And that was my goodbye to the Male Wards.

The only analogy which seems fitting here are the three times I’ve sat by the bedside of a dying loved one as the life slipped out of them.  This was truly a tragic occurrence, because it wouldn’t have happened if the lightning rods hadn’t been taken off the building.  It was over a year before I went back; when I did, I found burnt-up scraps of my grandmother’s blanket.

To see this larger, or to buy a print, head on over to my new SmugMug gallery.

(Source: methexys)