rock-flag-and-jerkface:

THIS IS THE CUTEST THING EVER

they both look a little nervous about what the other one might write

then just the biggest smiles when they are reassured yet again how much they just love each other

avianawareness:

happymonsters:

[HappyMonsters.]

Spread the joy! =) Remember, you deserve to be happy!

This offends me because of the absence of BIRD

hiddleshabanera:

dragoniza:

”- Why don’t you smile? 

-Because I have an ugly smile.

-That’s impossible, when someone smiles, no matter what form have smile, or if your teeth are large, small, crooked… People just look beautiful when they smile, because we know that they are happy, and that’s what matters.”

teeth / smiles appreciation Animation

YOU FORGOT ONE 

image

mechinaries:

magical creatures helping other magical creatures (✿◡‿◡)

pleatedjeans:

21 Pictures Guaranteed to Make You Feel Better About Life

teased-n-denied:

Girls can wear jeans and cut their hair short, wear shirts and boots. ‘Cause it’s OK to be a boy. But for a boy to look like a girl is degrading. ‘Cause you think that being a girl is degrading. But secretly, you’d love to know what it’s like… Wouldn’t you? What it feels like for a girl.

— Charlotte Gainsbourg

A company in Australia by the name of HommeMystere started making lingerie for men in April of 2013. In the beginning, they received a lot of negative publicity, mostly from women fearing their boyfriends or husbands would start wearing lingerie. So much for femininism… Now, they have consistently been making a small fortune and have become quite popular in the fashion capitals of the world. So far:

  • They have made two appearances at the International Lingerie Show in Las Vegas.
  • They have gone public in the United States, France, Sweden, and Japan.
  • They have sold out of four lines of their clothing.
  • And they have reached one million veiws on their YouTube channel.

What is more, because they do not focus on the gay community, they haven’t put any barriers up against straight men who happen to make up the majority of their orders. If that is not success, I do not know what is. Cheers, HommeMystere.

After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.

Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
Questions.

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.

Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be.  (via oliviacirce)

When I lose hope in the world, I remember this poem.

(via bookoisseur)

I’m really glad I read that.

(via selfesteampunk)

theuppitynegras:

2damnfeisty:

benshaws:

When a dad found out he was going to be a grandpa.

This is so precious.

yo man but just think how when this kid is grown up and he’s remembering their grandfather they’ll always have this video to remind them that they’re grandfather loved them from the beginning and oh god I have something in my eye