(via softerpassions)
“There are generally two types of drunkards in the world: Those that get 86’d a lot and those who never do. If you’re the latter, you’re missing out on a very special feeling. A man with any character at all must have enemies and places he is not welcome—in the end we are not only defined by our friends, but also those aligned against us. So choose the type of bar you loathe. Get remorselessly smashed on tequila. Let your lizard brain do your talking. Splash the kerosene, drop the match and watch the bridge burn. Few sentences in the English language bespeak a mysterious dark side than: “I’m not allowed in there. And, quite frankly, I don’t blame them.”
Si te gusta beber y, maldita sea, si estás leyendo esto puedo apostar a que te gusta, necesitas este libro. En caso de que erróneamente pienses que no, a buen seguro tendrás un amigo alcohólico que celebre su cumpleaños en breve y harás muy bien regalándoselo.
It’s hard to say I’m not much of a family man
‘Cause I play all night and raise hell with my hellbilly band
And I know i was never quite good enough for you
So I’ll sit right here and have another drink or two
(via jmbr, who cares about the details)
![livercake:
it’s the boss, dude, don’t fuck around. i got him to half health bar.
realcabz:
thedailywhat:
FUCKIN’ AW.
[via.]](http://7.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kopdakeyCf1qzpwi0o1_400.jpg)
it’s the boss, dude, don’t fuck around. i got him to half health bar.
FUCKIN’ AW.
[via.]
Recopilados en orden cronológico. Para darle emoción a la cosa, omitiré el nombre del tuiteador, así los podréis leer sin prejuicios. Los campeones sabéis quienes sois.
Os advierto que es mejor dosificarlo. No sólo para que dure, sino porque la asimilación de tal cantidad de sabiduría, aunque codificada bajo el algoritmo de cotidianeidad espontánea propio de Twitter, podría sobrecargar las sinapsis del lector.
Por cierto: después de esto, a quien diga que Twitter no es un avance (hacia dónde exactamente, ni puta idea) lo destierro al Tártaro.
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Ñarf.
(via)
Not to mention brawling like a hooligan and compromising both her physical integrity and mine —a behavior undoubtedly backed by the (inexistent) safety net of my legendary ass-kicking skills.
Last night I went to the best concert ever and, taking in to account recent events, it’s good to know that life can be as much fun as it was last night when I was swirling and dancing around like a mad woman.
BiBiBiBiBirdBirdBirBird.
Play count: 34