I’m getting rid of a TON OF STUFF for SUPER CHEAP!! This includes WIGS, ACCESSORIES, UNFINISHED BASES, and FULL COSPLAYS! Please take a look and share, I’d like to sell it all as soon as possible!
Update: Crossed out everything sold already but there’s still more left!
FMK lord farquaad shrek donkey
according to the movies both farquaad and shrek are terrible husbands, one is a tyranical dictator and the other one might fuck up the entirety of time if he gets bored, donkey is clearly the best husband of the three and u kno shrek a freak in the swamp so you kick farquaad’s tiny ass to the curb why is this even a question
sometimes i get really worried that people who were cruel to me are reading my blog all the time waiting for me to blog about feeling bad or being in trouble so they can feel triumphant about it. well the jokes on you. i am veyr beautiful, popular, successful, and thrilling. you will never win
"tumblr is great except for…"
the neo-nazis? the violent misogynists? the white supremacists? the glorification of mass murderers? the blogs committed to telling marginalized people to commit suicide? the pedophiles?
ah, yes, clearly it’s the marginalized people trying to get rights. they are the problem here. because they’re occasionally overzealous. or something.
It’s all very hush hush.
I’m secretly involved in a scheme that involves sending the entirety of the male gender to the moon. All of them. Every last one. No exceptions. Even my brother has to go. Sorry Dan, I know you’re my favourite person and all, but you’ve inadvertently brought on my wrath with the pure audacity of being male. My dad’s off too. And my grandfather. All of them.
I’m just wicked to the core. A true evil of our times.
I’m surprised I’ve managed to remain undetected for this long to be honest.
But rest assured, one day Laverne Cox will preside over our democratic matriarchal society. The colour blue will be outlawed. We’re going to have to chemically alter the sky, but that’s fine. Without the men to support we’ll have the funds.
If you’re interested in helping out with the whole ‘Send-Em- To- The- Big- Cheese-In-The- Sky’ scheme, then go outside next full moon dressed in baby pink from head to toe, spin around three times, click your heels together and whisper: “It’s all satire, none of it’s real, none of it, get it together for the love of God…”
We will be listening.