even republicans don’t like republicans

these guys just ate each other alive and spat out Mitt Romney 

Text tagged as:

“If you love two people at the same time, choose the second one. Because if you truly loved the first one, you wouldn’t love another. There are four questions of value in life… What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”
- Johnny Depp

“If you love two people at the same time, choose the second one. Because if you truly loved the first one, you wouldn’t love another. There are four questions of value in life… What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”

- Johnny Depp

Photo tagged as: reblog - Reblog from draggonflyy

(Source: fuckyeahalternabilly)

Video tagged as: reblog - Reblog from yelyahwilliams

(Source: maryyys)

Photo tagged as: reblog - Reblog from voussoirs
mishalmoorebloggyblog:

As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)
A sweet lesson on patience. A NYC Taxi driver wrote:I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboardbox filled with photos and glassware.‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drivethrough downtown?’‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.They must have been expecting her.I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.‘Nothing,’ I said‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

mishalmoorebloggyblog:

As seen on Facebook. (posted by Homestead Survival)

A sweet lesson on patience. 

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Photo tagged as: reblog - Reblog from neilispowerwolf

We’ve been hearing a lot about the war on women, which is real enough. But there’s also a war on the young, which is just as real even if it’s better disguised. And it’s doing immense harm, not just to the young, but to the nation’s future.

Let’s start with some advice Mitt Romney gave to college students during an appearance last week. After denouncing President Obama’s “divisiveness,” the candidate told his audience, “Take a shot, go for it, take a risk, get the education, borrow money if you have to from your parents, start a business.”

The first thing you notice here is, of course, the Romney touch — the distinctive lack of empathy for those who weren’t born into affluent families, who can’t rely on the Bank of Mom and Dad to finance their ambitions. But the rest of the remark is just as bad in its own way.

I mean, “get the education”? And pay for it how? Tuition at public colleges and universities has soared, in part thanks to sharp reductions in state aid. Mr. Romney isn’t proposing anything that would fix that; he is, however, a strong supporter of the Ryan budget plan, which would drastically cut federal student aid, causing roughly a million students to lose their Pell grants.

So how, exactly, are young people from cash-strapped families supposed to “get the education”? Back in March Mr. Romney had the answer: Find the college “that has a little lower price where you can get a good education.” Good luck with that. But I guess it’s divisive to point out that Mr. Romney’s prescriptions are useless for Americans who weren’t born with his advantages.

… What should we do to help America’s young? Basically, the opposite of what Mr. Romney and his friends want. We should be expanding student aid, not slashing it. And we should reverse the de facto austerity policies that are holding back the U.S. economy — the unprecedented cutbacks at the state and local level, which have been hitting education especially hard.

Yes, such a policy reversal would cost money. But refusing to spend that money is foolish and shortsighted even in purely fiscal terms. Remember, the young aren’t just America’s future; they’re the future of the tax base, too.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste; wasting the minds of a whole generation is even more terrible. Let’s stop doing it.

Paul Krugman, The New York Times, “Wasting Our Minds.”

Go read the whole damned thing.

(via inothernews)

Quote tagged as: reblog - Reblog from barackobama

You won’t allow me to go to school.
I won’t become a doctor.
Remember this:
One day you will be sick.

Poem written by an 11 year old Afghan girl 

This poem was recorded in a NYT magazine article about female underground poetry groups in Afghanistan. An amazing article about the ways in which women are using a traditional two line poetry form to express their resistance to male oppression, their feelings about love (considered blasphemous), and their doubts about religion. 

 Here’s the link

(via blua)

(Source: katyuno)

Quote tagged as: reblog - Reblog from xiaomengmeng
misbehavingbrowncoats:

We will rule over this land, and call it This Land.
I think we should call it your grave!
Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!
Mine is an evil laugh. Now die!

misbehavingbrowncoats:

We will rule over this land, and call it This Land.

I think we should call it your grave!

Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!

Mine is an evil laugh. Now die!

Photo tagged as: reblog - Reblog from misbehavingbrowncoats
timefortom:

Frak yeah, Star Wars!!!!

timefortom:

Frak yeah, Star Wars!!!!

Photo tagged as: reblog - Reblog from timefortom

(Source: ingenioussteez)

Photo tagged as: reblog - Reblog from djingin

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