Montreal student protesters baiting riot police with donuts.
Please tell me one of the officers with a sense of humour took one
Can we take a moment to talk about how Sherlock’s real first name is William?
WILLIAM. SHERLOCK. SCOTT. HOLMES.
Did he used to call himself Bootstrap Bill when he was younger when he was pretending to be a pirate?
Like, did his mom and dad call him Billy until one day, after they put Redbeard down, he told them he wanted to be called Sherlock from now on? Because after that, being a pirate wasn’t fun anymore.
Because what was the point of being a pirate if he didn’t have Redbeard with him?
And by changing his name to and becoming Sherlock, he was able to harden his shell and expel emotions. He pushed away his dreams of becoming a pirate, all those feelings he had, all that sentiment, locking them away with Billy and focused on his intellect.
Where Mycroft stepped in, teaching Sherlock how to hone his skills: How to master his brain and the world around him. Allowing Billy to slip farther and farther away, and allow Sherlock to come to the surface.
And now, whenever Sherlock gets in too deep, Mycroft reminds him of Redbeard. To keep Sherlock from hurting himself again.
To keep Billy from coming back.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU
This entire fucking fandom is just made up of masochists.
It is the year 2046. The time has come for the annual Blog Inspection. Armed android wardens begin to arrive at the homes of the country’s prisoners who were once called citizens. A warden knocks on a ramshackle door. It is answered by an old man, bedraggled, starving, weary. The robotic guard’s abdominal display screen flickers to life with the image of a popular post on tumblr. “This has to be on everyone’s blog at least once,” intones the android. Fear enters the man’s eyes. He has not reblogged this post. He shrieks and, with one fell motion, blasts a hole into the android’s head with his laser magnum. Everyone in the neighborhood watches on in horror as the man, calling for liberation, is tackled by dozens of androids. His screams die with the buzz of plasma spears. There is no freedom. This has to be on everyone’s blog at least once. Everyone’s.
are you okay there
E V E R Y O N E
NO CHANCES TAKEN
BE CAREFUL MAKING WISHES IN THE
CANT BE SURE WHEN THEYVE HIT THEIR
this motivates me to overcome my suicidality more than those “if u see this on ur dash dont kill urself” posts and it makes me think there’s maybe something wrong with me
how to be a lil bitch:
- look like u
- act like u
- smell like u
- dance like u
- talk like u
If by ‘fuck the police’ you mean fuck the corrupt, prejudiced, racist system then yes, fuck the police, but if you mean fuck the police for stopping you from smoking weed and getting away with illegal behaviour then no, fuck you.
But what if I mean “I wish to have intercourse with that man in uniform”
then fuck the police
Amazing how fire exposed our priorities.
SO LIGHT ‘EM UP, UP, UP
LIGHT ‘EM UP, UP, UP
SO LIGHT ‘EM UP, UP, UP
JOHN’S ON FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!
THIS JOHN IS ON FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
AND THEY SET FIII-IIII-IIIIREEE
TO THE JOOOOOHHHN
this is what a two year hiatus does to us
Oh… OH GOD.
for those of you who don’t know my legacy