Expirement Gone Wrong

Miss-adventurers chronicled

You’re born with a ton of fucks to give, so you spend them like a kid with a credit card. You give fucks about your friends, about your grades, about your fashion sense, about strangers’ opinions. You give way too many fucks about way too many things. You have so many. Then, as you get older, you have maybe 10 fucks per month, so you learn to budget them. You allocate fucks to family and career, but there aren’t enough fucks to give to the newest fads. Oh, someone at work has something they need my help with that’s outside my job title? I’ll do my best to allocate some fucks, but this month is pretty tight. Then, as you get even older, you’re down to 1-2 fucks per month, and those fucks are pretty damn precious. You give them to your family and your hobbies and your job, and that’s kinda it. It’s not your fault – fucks expire too quickly. I would’ve liked to save my fucks from when I was younger but I can’t. Then, you hit fuck insolvency. You’re getting like 1 fuck a year, and you have to make it last. So you go without, and even previously fuck-worthy things, you just can’t give a fuck. Some people run out really quickly, Some people have a fuck trust fund that pays out a decent amount even into old age. But at some point, the fuck faucet runs completely dry and you’re out of fucks to give. It’s just basic Fuckonomics.

-Unknown English Teacher (via swarthyvillain)

I’ve never read anything more fucking true in my whole fucking life. 

Fuck.

(via robinade)

Well if this isn’t fucking meta…I don’t know what is.

(via spookychan)

It’s just basic Fuckonomics

(via exsequar)

(via twapa)

I’ve been doing some work on a project.

I’ve been doing some work on a project.

tlcplmax:

Watch out, we got a badass up in here.

tlcplmax:

Watch out, we got a badass up in here.

Understanding Combat PTSD from the inside and out.

dogpoundgangsters:

Combat-Related Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (or Combat PTSD) is not just something that happens to a soldier when they have to kill someone (though that can play a part). It’s about what happens, physically and psychologically, inside of a soldier’s brain when they are…

whiskeydrinking-operating:

scriptures:

alexbbypls:

hoplite-operator:

whiskeydrinking-operating:

winterduck:

shar-fireshar:

whiskeydrinking-operating:

This is Chester. When I was in Afghanistan I got a care package from one of those “Adopt a Soldier” programs that lets families send care packages to service men and women who are deployed overseas. Anyway, I got this care package, and it came with the usual stuff: Baby wipes, crackers, peanut butter, the Dad threw in a pack of cigarettes, and there was some jerky. But there was also a little beanie baby gold fish and a hand written note from a 7 year old girl that said  “Dear Soldier, (I wasn’t even mad) I hope you are doing well. I’m sorry you have to miss thanksgiving with your family. This is my friend Chester. He keeps me safe from monsters, but I think you need him more than I do. I hope he keeps you safe from the monsters you’re fighting. Take good care of him for me”.
You bet your ass that little fish was in my pocket every time I went on patrol.

😍

I’d find that kid and return his friend to him with the good news.

I wanted to but the it box it came in (with the return address) accidentally got taken out to the burn pit before I could write it down. My only hope is for this post to go insanely viral and her hear about it and that he did his job, which was helping me do mine.


reblogging again

AWWWW ;_;

Dawwww

Holy fucking 4k notes this post isn’t even 8 hours old what the fuck

whiskeydrinking-operating:

scriptures:

alexbbypls:

hoplite-operator:

whiskeydrinking-operating:

winterduck:

shar-fireshar:

whiskeydrinking-operating:

This is Chester. When I was in Afghanistan I got a care package from one of those “Adopt a Soldier” programs that lets families send care packages to service men and women who are deployed overseas. Anyway, I got this care package, and it came with the usual stuff: Baby wipes, crackers, peanut butter, the Dad threw in a pack of cigarettes, and there was some jerky. But there was also a little beanie baby gold fish and a hand written note from a 7 year old girl that said
“Dear Soldier, (I wasn’t even mad)
I hope you are doing well. I’m sorry you have to miss thanksgiving with your family. This is my friend Chester. He keeps me safe from monsters, but I think you need him more than I do. I hope he keeps you safe from the monsters you’re fighting. Take good care of him for me”.

You bet your ass that little fish was in my pocket every time I went on patrol.

😍

I’d find that kid and return his friend to him with the good news.

I wanted to but the it box it came in (with the return address) accidentally got taken out to the burn pit before I could write it down. My only hope is for this post to go insanely viral and her hear about it and that he did his job, which was helping me do mine.

reblogging again

AWWWW ;_;

Dawwww

Holy fucking 4k notes this post isn’t even 8 hours old what the fuck

(Source: never-let--it-die, via mrsthecobra)