Well, I don’t have red hair or a dog…I don’t watch Dr. Who…and I guess I am a bit unfortunate-looking…but other than that, this kind of does describe what I’m like in a relationship (if anyone would ever fucking understand that).

sanityscraps:

goldenheartedrose:

soultired:

goldenheartedrose:

inflateablefilth:

nothingaboutus-withoutus:

artemispotter:

Leviticus 20:13:

If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.

Nice try, Colbert.

Leviticus was written approximately 1400 years before Jesus’ birth.

Nice try, artemispotter.

Old Testament =/= New Testament. Seriously. Also, Leviticus also commands you to learn the Torah, which, if you’re getting Old and New confused, you clearly haven’t.

Not to mention the other ridiculous laws in Leviticus (and Deuteronomy, as well), including the following:

• No mixing of different types of fabric
• No having sex with a woman on her period
• Curse your mother or father? You must be killed
• Disabled people cannot worship God 
• Stubborn children should be stoned.

So…. still want to argue how valid the OT is?

Also, in the Bible!=Jesus said it, anyway.  Even in the NT, there are a lot of people who aren’t Jesus giving their opinions.

Truth.  

Only if the words are in red (in many translations) does it mean that Jesus said it.

FWIW, the apostle Paul and I would not have been friends.  Mortal enemies is more like it.

Hey, guys, remember that one time when Jesus declared Levitican law irrelevant?

The former regulation is set aside because it was weak and useless (for the law made nothing perfect), and a better hope is introduced, by which we draw near to God.

-Hebrews 7:18-19.

Ha ha, be-like-the-fox. Once again, I completely underestimated my own stupidity. You’re thinking by now, I expect, that you’ll soon get to say “I told you so” about Kerouac Boy, no? Is that it? Oh no, darling, oh no. I wish you had that precious opportunity, though. I could use some of that famous wrath to get me through this.

I’m back at my high school to support the class of ‘12 at their graduation. For anyone who has, perhaps, forgotten, it is where I met—ahem—Spencer Reid—well, you know who I mean. The one who I loved, for so long, and then promptly forgot when I met Kerouac Boy. I threw myself into that disaster of a relationship head on, and even when things got stable I longed for more drama (I’m sorry, KB—you deserved better than that—be-like-the-fox, this is what I mean when I said I fucked up with him, big-time—I hurt him too—believe me now, won’t you?), because guess what, being here again has made me realize that I am not over Spencer Reid. Hell, I couldn’t be less over him.

He needed to be here this weekend, and he isn’t. He isn’t responding to my attempts of communication. And I know I need him here, because there is this empty space where he should be, and I keep silently begging God to send him to me now and He never does—whether it’s because Spencer doesn’t need to be here or because I’m being punished for something I’ll never know.

Benjamin Busch once said, “We’ve been pissed off by love for a long time, so we’ve got a lot of great words to describe what happens when it fails. But no—there are no words for this, none that have not been worn to tatters by better writers. Millions of them have said that their hearts have stopped, have broken, have fallen to pieces. My heart? Ha. Do I even still have one, or has he taken full possession of it? Oh, there it is. That’s another cliche, isn’t it? But he has—and now, tonight of all nights, he is dangling it over my head, laughing and saying, Here, foreverinred, jump for it! knowing full well that I will never be close enough to him again to snatch it back. But he isn’t doing it on purpose—he doesn’t know, because I can’t tell him, because I would only hurt him if I did.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. Isn’t it the perfect catch-22? I ought to write a book.

Scratch that. I can’t, because I don’t know how to describe the longing that I feel for him. Here is what I do know: I have never felt this way about anyone before, and I hope to God I never feel it again, because…well…

Here, Mr. Busch. Add this one to your collection:It fucking hurts.

freelancerrealtalk:

nedhepburn:

Calvin was totally a freelancer.

Truth. We feel you, Calvin. 

Holy crud muffins, was Calvin an art school student?!?

newvagabond:

Eddie Izzard [Stripped] | Terms & Conditions

Yes.

LOVE. LOVELOVELOVE.

be-like-the-fox:

YES. I ADMIT IT. I’M A SUCKER FOR DISNEY PRINCESSES, OKAY?

I know some people who could greatly benefit from the Moody Discipline Method…