want!
You don’t need a party to get down on some guacamole. Put it on a salad, taco, tostada, sandwich, whatever you want. Eat it with your hands. I don’t give a flying fuck. SNACK LIFE.
GRAPEFRUIT GUACAMOLE
5 ripe avocados
2 medium grapefruits or 1 big son of a bitch
¼ cup chopped cilantro
¼ cup chopped red onion
juice of 1 lime (about 2 tablespoons)
¼ teaspoon salt
Take the pit out of the avocados and scoop out all the green flesh into a large bowl. Mash it up with fork. I like my guacamole chunky but do what you gotta do. Cut the grapefruit up into segments like you would cut an orange. Remove the peel and cut the segments into pieces about the size of a nickel. Put all the grapefruit into the bowl with the avocado. Add the cilantro, red onion, lime juice, and salt and mix it all up. Taste it and add more shit until you like it. Serve immediately or chill it for a bit. I’m not gonna tell you how to eat guacamole, just follow your fucking heart.
oh my god, fucking hate the postmodern performance art on this fucking campus. i am trying to not fail my finals so i can fucking graduate. GO AWAY.
Nostalgia is a powerful emotion, and not one that should be easily dismissed or thought irrelevant. Boy Meets World is a television show which gave profound wisdom through the sometimes heartachingly passionate stories in the life of Cory Matthews. Mr. Feeny was more than a mentor to Cory and his friends; he was a father and a friend. This show will always have a place in my heart.
“Lose one friend, lose all friends, lose yourself.”
LOVE LOVE LOVE
you know it’s finals of senior year when this makes you cry. like a baby.
so sad about graduating college so soon and so fussy because of finals-induced sleep deprivation.
it’d be cool if there were like Sesame Street style shows for teenagers and Young Adults that teach you things like what to do at the post office and how not to be an asshole at parties
omg, yes. and how to write a check and do taxes. please!
I found these images while procrastinating on some writing tonight. Ballet is a very old art and I took that into account when making the assumption that its aesthetics were equally as old. That seems really stupid to me now when I consider what the quintessential ballerina looks like today. Maybe this is just jarring to me.
the principal at my school made an announcement yesterday that the girls need to start covering up and then i found this in the hallway
BOOM.
Can someone go and explore with me? please?
TW Disordered eating, eating disordersLily Myers, performing for Wesleyan University at the 2013 College Unions Poetry Slam Invitational. This poem was awarded Best Love Poem at the tournament.This reminds me so much of me and my mom.
i wish the audience would shut up so she could speak. this is powerful stuff.
SPOILER ALERT (sort of? if you haven’t seen the whole second season, i don’t understand for what kind of impetus you are waiting.)
so while watching the last couple of episodes when hannah has her e-book deal and just can’t make herself write it and is stupidly procrastinating to the point that her anxiety is making her do unhealthy/neurotic things, i was just thinking “WHAT, are you doing? you are ruining your own life right now. you are perfectly capable of writing and you just aren’t applying yourself and you are literally making yourself crazy. what the fuck is wrong with you, hannah?!”
but now here i am doing the same thing with my final paper: procrastinating to the point of tears and craziness. don’t worry, q-tips will not come into play here. but seriously. every other episode (especially the one where hannah bangs that weird immature creepo she met at jessa’s dad’s house because she was trying to have continuity with jessa), i watch and think to myself, “jesus christ, self, don’t you ever do that. that would be your rock bottom. that can’t happen.” and then with the last two episodes, i was like “this doesn’t even apply to me, how boring. i don’t like the direction this show is going.” but now i realize it was another cautionary tale and it WAS about me. god damn it.
