Zoe, 22.professional social media film person and blogger check out my tags page to see what i post. since 30th August 2012
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having a snuggable animal in your home is like a constant minigame of ancestral persistence hunting, every morning this beast is getting yoinked from various parts of the house to indulge our daily ritual of bringing him back to bed for cuddling purposes. im like the doom guy in hell meme but instead of ronald reagan im looking for my cat
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ive had this fuckig image in my brain for ages. i dont know what it means
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Schittās Creek š¹ 3.03 || New Car
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THE LAST OF US | 1.03Ā āLong Long Timeā
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The most insane thing happened to me today
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never have i seen a more relatable character oh my god
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high school musical (2006) // midsommar (2019)
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You are afraid to be alive, you are afraid to live.
Silver Linings Playbook (2012) dir. David O. Russell
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A politician diesā¦
And ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.
āSo, youāre a politicianā¦ā āWell, yes, is that a problem?ā āOh no, no problem. But weāve recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, youāre free to choose where you want to spend eternity!ā
āWait, I have to spend a day in Hell??ā says the politician. āThemās the rulesā Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy dissapears⦠And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing heās in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds⦠Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this canāt be right?
āOpen your eyes!ā says a voice. āC'mon, wakey wakey, weāve only got 24 hours!ā. Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees heās in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite⦠And thereās a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. āWho are you??ā The politician asks. āWell, Iām Satan!ā says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. āWelcome to Hell!ā āWait, this is Hell? But⦠Whereās all the pain and suffering?ā he asks. Satan throws him a wink. āOh, weāve been a bit mis-represented over the years, itās a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, thereās extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! Itās a beautiful day, and if youād care to look outsideā¦ā Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. āItās one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and thereās another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!ā says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cherrily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people heās admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work heās admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food-fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Ghandi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear⦠And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep⦠And is woken up by St Peter. āSo, that was Hell. Wasnāt what you were expecting, I bet?ā āNo sir!ā says the man. āSo thenā says St Peter āyou can make your choice. Itās Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so onā. āWell⦠I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think Iād prefer Hellā says the politician. āNot a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!ā Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.
The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. āWhatās this??ā He cries. āWhere���s the hotel?? Whereās my wife??? Whereās the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???ā
āAhā, says Satan. āYou see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you votedā¦ā
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