demonica-dawson:

time-lord-ramnikul:

knitmeapony:

demonhamster:

despotic:

suicidemydarling:

gigantorthemooseking:

I once went to a concert with a friend (I don’t remember the band, she dragged me along) when I was 16. They were starting a wall of death and this guy who was flirting with me decides it would be funny to pull my top down, exposing my breasts, then throw me in the middle of this wall of death right as it’s about to meet. When I stumble in the middle and hit the wall someone screamed “STOP! EXPOSED GIRL!” and I thought they were all going to oggle at me. Instead, one guy quickly helped me cover up, three more helped me to my feet, and another asked who did that. When I pointed out the guy, two of them looked at him, me, each other, then nodded and punched the guy in the face before forcing him into the wall that was about to form again.
Metal men are gentlemenly as shit.

This fucking this^^^ 

I’ve always loved this.

I went to my first concert a few months ago and there were these really tall men with black vest tops and tattoos and piercings surrounding us screaming loudly when the music started playing, but then we realised this kid in the crowd had lost his mum so they tried to comfort him and when he started crying they asked him his name and he shakily sobbed “Eliot” at which point they lifted him in the air onto the shoulder’s and shouted at the top of their lungs “ELIOT’S MUM, ELIOT IS LOOKING FOR YOU. EXCUSE ME HAS ANYONE SEEN ELIOT’S MUM!!!” at which point Eliot started giggling between sobs until he finally found his mum while in the air.

Seriously, I have felt safer in groups of death metal dudes than in the group of the preppiest preps that ever prepped.

Metal guys are one big family. Simple as that.

I remember seeing this for the first time like a year ago and not once have I seen it and not reblogged it because this is just amazing.

demonica-dawson:

time-lord-ramnikul:

knitmeapony:

demonhamster:

despotic:

suicidemydarling:

gigantorthemooseking:

I once went to a concert with a friend (I don’t remember the band, she dragged me along) when I was 16. They were starting a wall of death and this guy who was flirting with me decides it would be funny to pull my top down, exposing my breasts, then throw me in the middle of this wall of death right as it’s about to meet. When I stumble in the middle and hit the wall someone screamed “STOP! EXPOSED GIRL!” and I thought they were all going to oggle at me. Instead, one guy quickly helped me cover up, three more helped me to my feet, and another asked who did that. When I pointed out the guy, two of them looked at him, me, each other, then nodded and punched the guy in the face before forcing him into the wall that was about to form again.

Metal men are gentlemenly as shit.

This fucking this^^^ 

I’ve always loved this.

I went to my first concert a few months ago and there were these really tall men with black vest tops and tattoos and piercings surrounding us screaming loudly when the music started playing, but then we realised this kid in the crowd had lost his mum so they tried to comfort him and when he started crying they asked him his name and he shakily sobbed “Eliot” at which point they lifted him in the air onto the shoulder’s and shouted at the top of their lungs “ELIOT’S MUM, ELIOT IS LOOKING FOR YOU. EXCUSE ME HAS ANYONE SEEN ELIOT’S MUM!!!” at which point Eliot started giggling between sobs until he finally found his mum while in the air.

Seriously, I have felt safer in groups of death metal dudes than in the group of the preppiest preps that ever prepped.

Metal guys are one big family. Simple as that.

I remember seeing this for the first time like a year ago and not once have I seen it and not reblogged it because this is just amazing.

(via lovelavon)

My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you’ve been mean to someone, they won’t believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until it’s time to stop being nice, then destroy them.

  • Laurell K. Hamilton
    A Stroke of Midnight (via drythroats)

(via its-not-my-division)

aliveontuesday:

the-chubby-nerd:

Story time:
While taking put the trash at work, I kicked this little bag of pennies. Obviously, since I’m poor, a grabbed them and threw them in my pocket before going on with the rest of my shift.
Close to the end of my shift, I remembered this bag of pennies, so I took it out and counted it out. 7 cents.
My coworker came up and started talking to me while I was doing this, so we chatted, the entire time, this tiny bag of pennies in my hand.
Meanwhile, one of my managers sees me and my coworker talking over this bag, immediately thinks that it’s drugs, yells, and grabs both of us and drags us to the back room.
So, we’re sitting there, me clutching this bag of pennies in my fist, while my manager gets my GM on the phone, yelling about how we were “trading drugs during our shift” and “endangering ourselves and other in the workplace.”
Within 10 minutes, my GM was there, papers in hand to terminate our employment, talking about how they should call the cops. I started crying, cause they wouldn’t let me get a word in edge-wise, my coworker was actually texting his dad the entire time, trying to get them to come fight for him.
It wasn’t until the GM asked what drug they were that they finally let me talk.
So, while I was sobbing, I opened my hand and dropped the bag in my manager’s hand.
And he bursts out laughing.
Within seconds I had explained everything, the pennies, the situation, everything.
I almost got fired and arrested over 7 pennies.

Your manager is a piece of shit.

aliveontuesday:

the-chubby-nerd:

Story time:

While taking put the trash at work, I kicked this little bag of pennies. Obviously, since I’m poor, a grabbed them and threw them in my pocket before going on with the rest of my shift.

Close to the end of my shift, I remembered this bag of pennies, so I took it out and counted it out. 7 cents.

My coworker came up and started talking to me while I was doing this, so we chatted, the entire time, this tiny bag of pennies in my hand.

Meanwhile, one of my managers sees me and my coworker talking over this bag, immediately thinks that it’s drugs, yells, and grabs both of us and drags us to the back room.

So, we’re sitting there, me clutching this bag of pennies in my fist, while my manager gets my GM on the phone, yelling about how we were “trading drugs during our shift” and “endangering ourselves and other in the workplace.”

Within 10 minutes, my GM was there, papers in hand to terminate our employment, talking about how they should call the cops. I started crying, cause they wouldn’t let me get a word in edge-wise, my coworker was actually texting his dad the entire time, trying to get them to come fight for him.

It wasn’t until the GM asked what drug they were that they finally let me talk.

So, while I was sobbing, I opened my hand and dropped the bag in my manager’s hand.

And he bursts out laughing.

Within seconds I had explained everything, the pennies, the situation, everything.

I almost got fired and arrested over 7 pennies.

Your manager is a piece of shit.

(via its-not-my-division)