You guys, this is a picture of Gerard Butler. That guy from 300.
Do you realize what this means?
It means that I have a more strenuous gym regimen that Gerard Butler. I have more muscles on me than a Spartan. I CAN FUCKING WIN AN ARM WRESTLING MATCH WITH THE GUY FROM 300
This is going right on my resume, right next to “Time’s 2006 Person of the Year”
I can’t seem to find my jingle thong
Tapley desperately wants a higher tumblarity, enough so to observe semi-nude picture of yourself thursday. So, please. For less than pennies a day, you can like or reblog this post and give a Tapley hope for a brighter future.
I was super drunk last night. I just got home after work and I discovered this in one of my open tabs.
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I ASKED BUT I AM ABOUT NINETY PERCENT SURE THAT IT WAS SUPER CREEPY
because divorce hung over the estate like a thick heavy fog
IT IS TIME, BRAVE READERS OF MY TUMBLR. IT IS TIME FOR ME TO GO OUT INTO THE SNOW AND BRAVE THE WINTRY ELEMENTS.
There is like a shitton of snow outside, but that is okay, because I just bought new boots! They were forty dollars. They will protect me from the snow, or I will go back to the store where I bought them, and hurl them through the fucking window. I have several jackets, but I will probably wear the same outfit from last night, because while it may be time to venture out into the snow (the time being after looking at porn and before liquor stores close), it is not time to fret about clothing. It is also time to get starbucks. Starbucks knows that it is time. When I enter, they will hand me a peppermint mocha, and I will hand them moneydollars. AND THEN I WILL VENTURE INTO THE SNOW and hopefully not fall over, ‘cos I am motherfucking graceful.
