Supercalifragilisticexpialadoscious

jackviolet:

One of the things that is really notable about Moscow and yet not many people outside Russia know about, is how gorgeous the Moscow metro is.

These photos? That’s what the metro stations look like.

Yeah.

They’re called the “People’s palaces of Moscow” or else “Underground palaces,” and they were built during the Soviet era on the Communist idea that art and beauty should belong to the people rather than only being available in the houses of nobles.

These photos show just some of the metro’s attractions. There are many more mosaics, statues, etc, placed throughout.

And the metro is always this clean.

In addition to being beautiful, it is incredibly functional. It gets you pretty much everywhere in Moscow, and the trains run at intervals of every three minutes or less. At peak times, they run every 90 seconds. You never have to worry about missing a train, because the next one will come almost immediately.

Not always of course. In the late evening or early morning hours, you may have to wait as long as five whole minutes for a train. They’re also super easy to navigate.

We Russians are pretty proud of our metro system.

sselfishmachine:

sselfishmachine:

smooth motherfucker

this got a lot of notes overnight wow I’m glad y’all think my boyfriend is such a cutie

sselfishmachine:

sselfishmachine:

smooth motherfucker

this got a lot of notes overnight wow I’m glad y’all think my boyfriend is such a cutie

thatsplicingadventure:

mutisija:

starmander, starmeleon and starizard

texture credits: x x x

image

I did a thing.

smartass-fallen-angel:

frustrated-fallen-angel:

harryis-acupcake:

niick4:

danger-mouz:

calirosegold:

patronustrip:

tootsienoodles:

freackthehopeful:

skylarghost:

weasleyrocksyoursocks:

seong:

I AM FUCKING SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS SERIOUSLY THE BEST THING EVER
SWEET JESUS

You have your mother’s cheek bones

godDAMMIT NOW WE’RE SHIPPING CUTLERY
TUMBLR YOU NEED TO S T O P

I hope this post comes back to me when it has a short story attached. 

The Utensils were a happy family, just like any other. Fork was a loving, caring father, who worked at a bank, and Spoon was his beautiful wife, who owned a small business that allowed her to spend a lot of time with their son, Spork. Every day, when Fork came home from work, he gently clinked against the rim of Spoon’s face and asked how her day had been. She would go on and on about how her Aunt Bowl was letting anyone fill her up these days, and telling him he would never guess who they got a phone call from today (it was his brother, Knife), and he would just lean back against the china cabinet, staring at his wife’s beautiful reflective surface, and know everything was right in the world. 
One day, however, everything was suddenly not right in the world at all.
Fork woke up in the silverware drawer and instantly knew something was wrong. He looked over to where Spoon normally slept, confused when he saw nothing but empty space. Or, at least, he thought it was empty. It took him a minute to see the small note left there. Oh no. God, no, he thought.
He picked up the note with shaking prongs, and read amid tears:
“Fork,
     I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I just couldn’t face seeing you. It’s too painful. I’m not strong enough to tell you this to your face, and I know that makes me a coward. I know that makes me a horrible utensil. But I can’t do this anymore.
     Do you remember Cow’s party the other night? The night she was so drunk she swore she jumped over the moon? Well, I met someone that night. His name is Dish. And we’re running away together.
     Please, don’t try and find us. Dish makes me happy. He doesn’t spend all day staring at me, looking at himself in my reflection. 
Goodbye, Fork.
-Spoon”
Fork collapsed to the ground, wishing he could tell Spoon that the reason he loved staring at her reflective surface so much, was because of the way her surface magnified everything around her, making it seem so much greater and more beautiful than people could see themselves as normally. Her personality did the same thing. It’s what he loved most about her. And what he would miss most of all.

I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS FUCKING SITE.


bra..fucking..vo

sweet jesus i’m crying over cutlery

things like this make me happy i have a tumblr

i’M CRYING… BECAUSE CUTLERY. 
This website is going to be the death of me.

Crack. Not even once.

Thank God for tumblr

smartass-fallen-angel:

frustrated-fallen-angel:

harryis-acupcake:

niick4:

danger-mouz:

calirosegold:

patronustrip:

tootsienoodles:

freackthehopeful:

skylarghost:

weasleyrocksyoursocks:

seong:

I AM FUCKING SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS SERIOUSLY THE BEST THING EVER

SWEET JESUS

You have your mother’s cheek bones

godDAMMIT NOW WE’RE SHIPPING CUTLERY

TUMBLR YOU NEED TO S T O P

I hope this post comes back to me when it has a short story attached. 

The Utensils were a happy family, just like any other. Fork was a loving, caring father, who worked at a bank, and Spoon was his beautiful wife, who owned a small business that allowed her to spend a lot of time with their son, Spork. Every day, when Fork came home from work, he gently clinked against the rim of Spoon’s face and asked how her day had been. She would go on and on about how her Aunt Bowl was letting anyone fill her up these days, and telling him he would never guess who they got a phone call from today (it was his brother, Knife), and he would just lean back against the china cabinet, staring at his wife’s beautiful reflective surface, and know everything was right in the world. 

One day, however, everything was suddenly not right in the world at all.

Fork woke up in the silverware drawer and instantly knew something was wrong. He looked over to where Spoon normally slept, confused when he saw nothing but empty space. Or, at least, he thought it was empty. It took him a minute to see the small note left there. Oh no. God, no, he thought.

He picked up the note with shaking prongs, and read amid tears:

“Fork,

     I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I just couldn’t face seeing you. It’s too painful. I’m not strong enough to tell you this to your face, and I know that makes me a coward. I know that makes me a horrible utensil. But I can’t do this anymore.

     Do you remember Cow’s party the other night? The night she was so drunk she swore she jumped over the moon? Well, I met someone that night. His name is Dish. And we’re running away together.

     Please, don’t try and find us. Dish makes me happy. He doesn’t spend all day staring at me, looking at himself in my reflection. 

Goodbye, Fork.

-Spoon”


Fork collapsed to the ground, wishing he could tell Spoon that the reason he loved staring at her reflective surface so much, was because of the way her surface magnified everything around her, making it seem so much greater and more beautiful than people could see themselves as normally. Her personality did the same thing. It’s what he loved most about her. And what he would miss most of all.

I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS FUCKING SITE.

image

bra..fucking..vo

sweet jesus i’m crying over cutlery

things like this make me happy i have a tumblr

i’M CRYING… BECAUSE CUTLERY. 

This website is going to be the death of me.

Crack. Not even once.

Thank God for tumblr

keepita-secrett:

I’m about to cry

When you make an adult decision without calling your mother first.

ofgeography:

perfectxmystery:

image

when you realize your adult decision has unforeseen consequences:

image

thrillingtales:

#studentloans

sassadilla:

the best condoms money can buy

sassadilla:

the best condoms money can buy

alltheextrastuff:

Sometimes you’ve got to teach them how to roar.

alltheextrastuff:

Sometimes you’ve got to teach them how to roar.