HERE”S NUMBERRRRRR 5!!!!
5. Wreck it Ralph (The WIR Crew~)
It’s suppose to be just a picture but whoops~
I let my hand slip rofloll~
For this thingy I’m doing.
John Waters will fix society.
I remember seeing all the TOS fans pissed off at the “nu!Trek” fans. Saying they are only fans due to the new movie and due to the pretty. They still call them fake fans and the reboots, not real Trek.
It’s happening all over again but this time it’s Trek fans being mad at Cumberbatch fans.
In…
Well, yow, Sherlock fans are now into the Hobbit cause of him and Martin Freeman, I mean…it’s all relative, really. Fans can be good or obnoxious, doesn’t mean we should hate on them as a group. This could be a good thing.
…maybe I’m new to this world, i doubt it since I’m 25, but whatever happened to being into several fandoms at once. Guess what? I think Spock’s the bomb digs. Know who else I think is the bomb digs? Sherlock. Bilbo. Castiel. 11th Doc. Fall Out Boy. Rossini. Hunter s Thompson. Batman. Andy Warhol. Jensen Ackles. Dali. Muscle Cars. Macklemore. Neil Gaiman. Holy crap sticks! It is possible to love more then one thing at a time. Join me and leave pretension behind.
Artists
There’s something really inescapable about art and for those with the infatuation more then one can ever have. An insatiable hunger can be fed with drawing, painting, dance, makeup, music, sculpture, woodwork, architecture and design. People say artists are brave for seeking careers in art. I simply can’t escape it.
About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I had a pokemon. Second, there was a part of me - and I didn’t know how dominant that part might be - that wanted to be the very best, like no one ever was. Third, Gary Oak was unconditionally and irrevocably a douchenozzle.
Reblogging for the comment
How old are you?
“ten”
How long have you been ten?
“…”
HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN TEN
Misty looked at Ash, his breathing still heavy from carrying her on his bike as fast as he could through the long grass outside of Pallet Town.
“You’re eyes are impossibly huge and black,” Misty said. “Your hair is… incredibly pointy, and doesn’t need product. Your face changes size and shape based on your feelings… and sometimes you speak like - like you’re from the 90’s. You never spend money on anything; you don’t go to the bathroom.”
The silence hung there, thick and heavy like a Snorlax blocking the bike path.
“How old are you?” Misty asked, not sure if she wanted to know.
“Ten,” Ash replied, with a slight smirk and an almost amused tone.
Misty new that wasn’t true. Ash wasn’t like the other boys her age. He wasn’t even like her older sisters who ran the gym in Cerulean City. He was wiser and his passion was genuine.
Ash didn’t just want to catch them all, he needed to. He was going to be the best there ever was no matter how long it took, which gave Misty this nagging in the back of her mind. She had to know for sure.
“How long have you been ten?” she asked. Her voice weak, knowing full well the answer could change everything she thought she knew.
“A while…” Ash said. His voice trailing off, as if he were losing himself in a flood of memories.
Misty let out a faint gasp. She knew now. She was certain.
“I know what you are,” she declared, as if whatever had been holding her back from accepting the truth, finally let go of her hand and let her fall right down the Diglett hole.
Ash eyes were alive now, flickering like the flame on a Charmander’s tale.
He stared right into her and said, ”Say it… out loud. Say it.”
Misty’s heart was pounding louder than the thud of a Marowak’s bone club attack.
Despite the now eerily silent meadow, she could barely be heard as she whispered, “Pokemon Trainer.”
My god. This is so much better then twilight.
sabellart
