To be a fan of something, that thing needs to be a noun. For example… Reptar, Regina Spektor, Socialism.
You can not be a fan of “I Hate Waking Up Early”. For one, if you hate it, you are not a fan of it. It just doesn’t make any goddamn sense. If you want to be a part of a group that consists of people who hate waking up early that is perfectly fine. You also cannot be a fan of “Addicted to Harry Potter” or “I Don’t Smoke”. Those are not things you can be fans of. Just make a group already sheesh.
Stop abusing facebook fan pages!
Also, the next person I see that becomes a fan of water, breathing, laughing, or anything else that fucking every person on the planet likes, I am going to call you an idiot and hopefully make you cry.
Some middle school kid in Nashville got it. Apparently, he has no known connection to Mexico so he must of contracted it here. The kids school is closed for the next 7 days. I’m not gonna lie, I wish someone here would get it… maybe then they would cancel my math final.
personally I think everyone is a little bit bisexual, but so many people, even some gay-friendly allies, would never ever admit it.
Look into the Kinsey scale. I think it’s pretty accurate. It’s a range from 0 to 6, with zero being completely straight and 6 being completely gay. The majority are somewhere in the middle. It doesn’t completely work, but it’s a good starting point.I think I am a two. I mean, girl’s are hot and all, but I have only ever met one that I totally would have pursued something with. Sadly, she lived far away.
Personally, I agree that everyone is a bit bi. However (and I am probably going to offend a bunch of people here… sorry), most of the people I know personally that have labeled themselves as bi tend to be a bit whoreish. I think that the majority of people do have a preference for either boys or girls, and that by using the bi label they are just trying to keep as many of their options open as possible. Also, I believe that some of them are just not ready to admit that they are gay. Obviously, there are exceptions. This is just what I have seen to be true with people I personally know.
No one will love you if you don’t love yourself first. I read that “advice” all the time. It sickens me. First off, it’s not true. My wife loved me, unconditionally, for years. I never truly loved myself through any of it. In fact, sometimes I think I loved myself so little, endless love from one woman wasn’t enough. I needed more. That’s why I went out and looked for it. I never cheated on her, mind you, but my entire life was based on getting validation from others, putting myself out there and getting something back from it. It’s one of the reasons I broke up with her. She loved me, but she couldn’t help me love myself.
Even if the advice were true, it would still be stupid advice. Basically it tells people that don’t love themselves, that they should love themselves. Oh, right. Thanks.
Wait, no, let me guess your answer. “Only you could know that”, right? Yea, eat a bag of dicks, you hippie. Give me an answer. How does one come to love himself?
Telling me to love myself is like telling a fat kid to stop being fat. No, tell him to eat healthy, tell him to excersize. And now tell me what to do. Oh wait, you can’t. And if you dare say I should ‘excersize my heart’ I will stab you.
I don’t love myself. I don’t hate myself either. Not most of the time. My self love and my self hatred are fleeting, like my love for others, and their love for me. My wife used to love me. I know my mother loves me, but she’s never told me. I never told her either. My father never loved me. I always hated him. “But your friends love you”. Yea, thanks. We watch stoner movies and go for breakfast together. It’s all great, but it’s not exactly moving the core of my being.
I have a better question. How can you love yourself if no one else does? There, that’s my response. That is my advice. I were to believe that I’m loveable, but no one else does, I might as well believe that unicorns are real. In fact, I bet I could find more people that believe in the latter. How’s that for cynicism? It’s the same thing though, isn’t it? You know what it’s called when a person believes something, but no one else does? It’s called insanity. I would be insane to love myself.
I like myself. Tons of people like me. I’m very likeable. I can think of dozens of reasons why I should like myself. For one, you’re reading this, so I’m an okay writer if anything. But loveable?Love myself? I don’t know. I’m much better now. I’ve been feeding my ego, getting my validation. I’ve been finding out that girls do have crushes on me, girls will fuck me, girls do find me funny, I can take a girl on a good date. See, I never knew these things. I guess I learned to like myself by dumping the only person that ever loved me. I guess affection and blowjobs from random girls make me like myself more than my wife did. Ofcourse, it’s a thin line between self-love, and ego. In fact, what is the difference? Self-love is, by definition, extremely egotistical. So is that what you’re telling me? Be a self centered piece of shit, and everyone will love you? I don’t think so. I see all the hottest women clinging to self loathing, self destructive pieces of shit. Especially if they play the guitar.
No one will love you if you don’t love yourself first. Really? So basically, I should love myself so I can convince others to love me? I want them to go, “you’re right, you are amazing! I love you too”? I don’t want that. I don’t want to have to scam anyone into loving me. I want to be loved, naturally, for no reason. Not because I told them to.
“I know I’m unlovable, you don’t have to tell me”, sang Stephen Patrick Morrissey.
Just so you guys know… this guy is probably my current favorite writer on tumblr.
I didn’t get in trouble at all because I was able to give an accurate definition of the word and to show how I had used it properly. I learned how to talk my way out of things at an early age and it’s paid off numerous times.
The first time I swore I did not get in trouble because it was cute. I learned at an early age that being cute got me out of trouble (probably not the best lesson to learn). I was five and said, “Look at those pretty damn flowers!” while watching Fantasia.