Douche-off

SUP, BRO?
(loving the pokerthing :p)

Let it snow

HAHA

Gang

I wish my friends and I would walk around like this.

HEREXAMENS

"Oh, the Places You'll Actually Go!" by Dr. Seuss

Exams.

Let's get one thing straight - we're all procrastinators. It's practically the only thing that unites the races, sexes and species in the animal kingdom. And it seems that everyone has a similar method for studying the night leading up to a final.

Before you even crack that textbook open for the first time (and possibly tear the plastic wrap off) it's safe to pray to the Finals God. Without his mercy we have nothing to live for. This is a moment of desperation and even though you don't believe in God, you need him by your side right now. Remember, there are no atheists in foxholes.

Whoa, okay wow there's a lot of text in this book and slim to nil pics. Did NOT see that coming. And what's with the font-size and margins? Are they trying to pack as much information as they can on this page? Jesus Fuc -- sorry God, didn't mean that please let me pass. It's just -- haha -- okay I just feel a little light-headed is all maybe rocking back and forth will help.

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Rocking back and forth did not help. You know what I need a break. NO! No breaks, not yet. Okay, there's no way I can read the entire book. Maybe I'll just skim. Look for keywords and just get the jist of it. That's all these tests are anyway -- recall. But geez 32 pages in a chapter that's a lot of skimming. Okay, getting a little dizzy. Lying down.

Okay, chapter skimming done. Reward yourself.

That's how to get things done baby!! You do some chapter skimming. You get a reward. Phew, little tired from that though. OK, man up man up. Gotta ride the Bull. We knew we'd have to do this. Let's just raid the roomie's fridge right quick. OK OK OK LIQUID CANDY ENERGY LET'S GET PUMPED. 1 out of 6 chapters skimmed. LET'S GO BABY!

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. I can't do this. Next chapter was 42 pages!!! HAHA WHAT IS THAT?! I CAN'T TAKE THIS. I'M NOT READY. FUCK FUCK FUCK. THINK. FUCK. OK, WE'RE DEFINITELY NOT TAKING IT. IT'S TOO HARD. HAHA I'LL JUST BRUISE MYSELF UP A LITTLE. CAN'T LET A CRIPPLE TAKE A FINAL?!? THAT'S INHUMANE. I CAN DO THIS. I CAN DO THIS. I LOVE YOU MOM. I CAN DO THIS.

I can't do this. Fuck.

Repeat tomorrow night for next final, right after watching a movie. Or two. And checking Facebook really quick.

source.

OLD PEOPLE ARE STONED

Superfunny and true article, we all thought about this, just admit it, nothing would be cooler than getting high with the grandparents, enjoy!

Last xmas, I happened across my dad searching for his reading glasses while they were already perched atop his head, and I thought, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say my dad was stoned.” He wasn’t of course. He’s just transitioning from middle-aged into senior discount land. But more and more lately my parents have been reminding me of potheads, and it’s dawned on me…

Old people are in essence stoned at all times.

What used to seem like the sad ravages of age are a lot less alarming if you just imagine the person being high. Then it’s kinda adorable. Hell, I can really relate to my grandparents now.

I too have walked into a room with a purpose, only to find myself standing there at a total loss of what that purpose was. I constantly forget where I put my mail, or the point of stories I’m telling halfway through. I’ll drive well below the speed limit, wondering why everyone else is being so aggressive. I’ve stared at a tree, just enjoying the look of the damn thing. I've definitely gotten obsessed with a particular kind of bread. And I love hot baths and shitty TV.

I think I could have a ton of fun with my grandparents if I were blazed: rocking chairs outside, blankets on our laps, talking about how they keep their lawn so healthy. Dude, do a big ass puzzle! Or bingo at the rec! That would be amazing. I might lose them when I wanna get an assload of buffalo wings and play Mario Kart all night, but they’d probably be ready for bed around that time anyway.

This epiphany has also made me realize that if old people are stoned, then little kids are drunk. Hanging with my nieces and nephew is eerily similar to showing up late (and sober) to a party. I get to hear the same stories over and over again, told with the bare minimum of sense-making at the loudest possible volume. The short attention spans and tempers. The spilling of drinks and accidental breaking of shit. Not to mention the occasional fights and passing out on the couch. It’s uncanny.

Though unlike my genius plan for my grandparents, I’m not sure my brother would appreciate me getting shitfaced before I baby-sit. -Writer: Worm Miller-

For the original article, go here.

U ♥ Cédric

Everyone should buy these clothes! My friends, are you listening?! Buy pins, shirts, other shirts & hoodies!

Some Bullshit Happening Somewhere

Ok, ik sprak er vandaag nog over terwijl ik in het Warandepark wat aan het chillen was in de eerste zon van deze lente, genieten, dat het nieuws echt belachelijke dingen soms toont. Weet iemand nog dat nieuwsitem van 10 FUCKING minuten over kutministers die joggen in het Warandepark? WTF, juist? Dit gaat ongeveer daarover, enkel doen ze dit in Amerika 24uur lang, elke dag weer, die moeten altijd overdrijven!

I'm just some fucking guy..

The negative effects of alcohol.

Saint-Valentin

Aaaah, Valentine's Day tomorrow! I don't get why some people hate it. Now I'm single and I have to say even though I get slapped in the face with happy couples for like a week, I don't really mind, I like Valentine's. The strange thing is some people in relationships refuse to celebrate it, but it is my understanding giving gifts on this day may have well benefits, so I see no reason to hate on February 14th. And even singles who get tormented by love all around might find the good side of the day, because people get desperate and the person you've been stalking for days/months/years is more likely not to call the cops if you show up on Valentine's, yet it's still not a good idea if they're on a date with their significant other. So enjoy tomorrow, find your true love or at least try to have sex, I'll be watching Romcoms on tv...

Gift tip for those who will have to buy one:

For those lonely birds out there:



+ extra Valentine's FAIL:

NEW LOGO!

CHECK IT!

Nostalgia?

Logica

Je zou denken dat bovenstaande prent een belachelijkmaking is van logica, niets is minder waar, net als de Engelstalige student die dit voorgeschoteld kreeg, kreeg ik een gelijkaardige oefening.
Voor zij die het niet kunnen lezen omdat de scanner een kutapparaat is, de conclusie is:

Wanneer zal men geluk hebben? Wanneer men niet studeert!

Jaja, dames en heren, dat is het idiote gebrabbel dat ik vandaag leer en waarvan ik morgen een examen krijg! Logica! Het is verdomd leuk! Ik denk dat ik de logische keuze maak wanneer ik het dan ook niet studeer...

PANORMX PARTY!

1 in 60 men = rapist!

I'm prolly not a rapist, you can never be sure, and I prolly don't come over as a rapist, I hope. But that doesn't really matter in this case 'cuz I'm not the greatest at striking op conversation with strange women, I'm always thinkin' that they might be serial killing psychos or rapists, and actually I'm too bored when other people talk, so I can only listen to people I already know as they're kinda interesting.. In most cases I just want people to listen to me, and in first time convos that is just not often the case! Anyway here's a woman's view on the whole approached by a strange man thing, it's funny and insightful, full of great tips! (for my friends who are hoping on a train romance ;) )

Phaedra Starling is the pen name of a romance novelist and licensed private investigator living in small New York City apartment with two large dogs. She practices Brazilian jiu-jitsu and makes world-class apricot muffins.

Gentlemen. Thank you for reading.

Let me start out by assuring you that I understand you are a good sort of person. You are kind to children and animals. You respect the elderly. You donate to charity. You tell jokes without laughing at your own punchlines. You respect women. You like women. In fact, you would really like to have a mutually respectful and loving sexual relationship with a woman. Unfortunately, you don’t yet know that woman—she isn’t working with you, nor have you been introduced through mutual friends or drawn to the same activities. So you must look further afield to encounter her.

So far, so good. Miss LonelyHearts, your humble instructor, approves. Human connection, love, romance: there is nothing wrong with these yearnings.

Now, you want to become acquainted with a woman you see in public. The first thing you need to understand is that women are dealing with a set of challenges and concerns that are strange to you, a man. To begin with, we would rather not be killed or otherwise violently assaulted.

“But wait! I don’t want that, either!”

Well, no. But do you think about it all the time? Is preventing violent assault or murder part of your daily routine, rather than merely something you do when you venture into war zones? Because, for women, it is. When I go on a date, I always leave the man’s full name and contact information written next to my computer monitor. This is so the cops can find my body if I go missing. My best friend will call or e-mail me the next morning, and I must answer that call or e-mail before noon-ish, or she begins to worry. If she doesn’t hear from me by three or so, she’ll call the police. My activities after dark are curtailed. Unless I am in a densely-occupied, well-lit space, I won’t go out alone. Even then, I prefer to have a friend or two, or my dogs, with me. Do you follow rules like these?

So when you, a stranger, approach me, I have to ask myself: Will this man rape me?

Do you think I’m overreacting? One in every six American women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. I bet you don’t think you know any rapists, but consider the sheer number of rapes that must occur. These rapes are not all committed by Phillip Garrido, Brian David Mitchell, or other members of the Brotherhood of Scary Hair and Homemade Religion. While you may assume that none of the men you know are rapists, I can assure you that at least one is. Consider: if every rapist commits an average of ten rapes (a horrifying number, isn’t it?) then the concentration of rapists in the population is still a little over one in sixty. That means four in my graduating class in high school. One among my coworkers. One in the subway car at rush hour. Eleven who work out at my gym. How do I know that you, the nice guy who wants nothing more than companionship and True Love, are not this rapist?

I don’t.

When you approach me in public, you are Schrödinger’s Rapist. You may or may not be a man who would commit rape. I won’t know for sure unless you start sexually assaulting me. I can’t see inside your head, and I don’t know your intentions. If you expect me to trust you—to accept you at face value as a nice sort of guy—you are not only failing to respect my reasonable caution, you are being cavalier about my personal safety.

Fortunately, you’re a good guy. We’ve already established that. Now that you’re aware that there’s a problem, you are going to go out of your way to fix it, and to make the women with whom you interact feel as safe as possible.

To begin with, you must accept that I set my own risk tolerance. When you approach me, I will begin to evaluate the possibility you will do me harm. That possibility is never 0%. For some women, particularly women who have been victims of violent assaults, any level of risk is unacceptable. Those women do not want to be approached, no matter how nice you are or how much you’d like to date them. Okay? That’s their right. Don’t get pissy about it. Women are under no obligation to hear the sales pitch before deciding they are not in the market to buy.

The second important point: you must be aware of what signals you are sending by your appearance and the environment. We are going to be paying close attention to your appearance and behavior and matching those signs to our idea of a threat.

This means that some men should never approach strange women in public. Specifically, if you have truly unusual standards of personal cleanliness, if you are the prophet of your own religion, or if you have tattoos of gang symbols or Technicolor cockroaches all over your face and neck, you are just never going to get a good response approaching a woman cold. That doesn’t mean you’re doomed to a life of solitude, but I suggest you start with internet dating, where you can put your unusual traits out there and find a woman who will appreciate them.

Are you wearing a tee-shirt making a rape joke? NOT A GOOD CHOICE—not in general, and definitely not when approaching a strange woman.

Pay attention to the environment. Look around. Are you in a dark alley? Then probably you ought not approach a woman and try to strike up a conversation. The same applies if you are alone with a woman in most public places. If the public place is a closed area (a subway car, an elevator, a bus), even a crowded one, you may not realize that the woman’s ability to flee in case of threat is limited. Ask yourself, “If I were dangerous, would this woman be safe in this space with me?” If the answer is no, then it isn’t appropriate to approach her.

On the other hand, if you are both at church accompanied by your mothers, who are lifelong best friends, the woman is as close as it comes to safe. That is to say, still not 100% safe. But the odds are pretty good.

The third point: Women are communicating all the time. Learn to understand and respect women’s communication to you.

You want to say Hi to the cute girl on the subway. How will she react? Fortunately, I can tell you with some certainty, because she’s already sending messages to you. Looking out the window, reading a book, working on a computer, arms folded across chest, body away from you = do not disturb. So, y’know, don’t disturb her. Really. Even to say that you like her hair, shoes, or book. A compliment is not always a reason for women to smile and say thank you. You are a threat, remember? You are Schrödinger’s Rapist. Don’t assume that whatever you have to say will win her over with charm or flattery. Believe what she’s signaling, and back off.

If you speak, and she responds in a monosyllabic way without looking at you, she’s saying, “I don’t want to be rude, but please leave me alone.” You don’t know why. It could be “Please leave me alone because I am trying to memorize Beowulf.” It could be “Please leave me alone because you are a scary, scary man with breath like a water buffalo.” It could be “Please leave me alone because I am planning my assassination of a major geopolitical figure and I will have to kill you if you are able to recognize me and blow my cover.”

On the other hand, if she is turned towards you, making eye contact, and she responds in a friendly and talkative manner when you speak to her, you are getting a green light. You can continue the conversation until you start getting signals to back off.

The fourth point: If you fail to respect what women say, you label yourself a problem.

There’s a man with whom I went out on a single date—afternoon coffee, for one hour by the clock—on July 25th. In the two days after the date, he sent me about fifteen e-mails, scolding me for non-responsiveness. I e-mailed him back, saying, “Look, this is a disproportionate response to a single date. You are making me uncomfortable. Do not contact me again.” It is now October 7th. Does he still e-mail?

Yeah. He does. About every two weeks.

This man scores higher on the threat level scale than Man with the Cockroach Tattoos. (Who, after all, is guilty of nothing more than terrifying bad taste.) You see, Mr. E-mail has made it clear that he ignores what I say when he wants something from me. Now, I don’t know if he is an actual rapist, and I sincerely hope he’s not. But he is certainly Schrödinger’s Rapist, and this particular Schrödinger’s Rapist has a probability ratio greater than one in sixty. Because a man who ignores a woman’s NO in a non-sexual setting is more likely to ignore NO in a sexual setting, as well.

So if you speak to a woman who is otherwise occupied, you’re sending a subtle message. It is that your desire to interact trumps her right to be left alone. If you pursue a conversation when she’s tried to cut it off, you send a message. It is that your desire to speak trumps her right to be left alone. And each of those messages indicates that you believe your desires are a legitimate reason to override her rights.

For women, who are watching you very closely to determine how much of a threat you are, this is an important piece of data.

The fifth and last point: Don’t rape. Nor should you commit these similar but less severe offenses: don’t assault. Don’t grope. Don’t constrain. Don’t brandish. Don’t expose yourself. Don’t threaten with physical violence. Don’t threaten with sexual violence.

Shouldn’t this go without saying? Of course it should. Sadly, that’s not the world I live in. You may be beginning to realize that it’s not the world you live in, either.

Miss LonelyHearts wishes you happiness and success in your search for romantic companionship.

Magic Perfume!

You know those kind of love movies that make you queasy? 'Cuz it's not like two Hollywoodian beauties falling in love in some dreamy way, but just two people like you. Well, 'Paper Heart' is just like that, it'll warm your heart and then you'll feel depressed. (This is for single people, people in a relationship will only think suddenly that their relationship is boring and that they don't actually like their partner, so yeah depressed too prolly) But anyway this movie is really great you should watch it, it shows them in a real natural way, it's lovely.
Michael Cera contributes to the accesability of the whole project, I mean it's Mike Cera, a normal dude, scoring with kinda hot girls in other movies but still in a reasonable, acceptable way, and just falling in love with a normal girl in this one. Hipsterrunoff wrote an article on the movie and said this about Michael Cera, which is prolly a good observation:

Feel like Michael Cera represents a woman’s desire to ’settle’ for a guy who isn’t handsome, but might be quirky, and allegedly ‘funnie’. He will do things for you like ‘make you a mix tape on an actual tape’ even though you don’t have a cassette player, and ‘bring u shitty gifts’ that u are able to consider ‘meaningful.’ Guess that might be why general bros h8 him–general bros are not willing to ‘be comfortable with who they are’ enough to find some sort of happiness with a girl who is clearly ’settling for u.’ Both parties in the relationship share mutually resentful feelings towards one another because they both feel like they are ’settling.’ Seems ‘very hard’ 2 be happie.

I think that about sums it up, and that's why I like Mike Cera even more!

Oh, and the soundtrack to the movie is also quite wonderful, Charlyne and Mike made it themselves and it's kinda lo-fi, which gives the whole movie a Wes Anderson-vibe.

Charlyne Yi - Magic Perfume
(=suuuuuuuperpretty)

It's all explained in this cartoon actually...

Nothing suits me like a suit.

I'm not a big fan of HIMYM (yet), but I love Neil Patrick Harris(, nooo not in that way!). And Barney Stinson is an example for men everywhere, and when I grow up I'll never be like him, but one thing I hope to accomplish and that is to wear a lot of suits! (I bet you were thinking something else..)

COLORS

Now let me tell you the story about the bra colors.
Yesterday men everywhere were astonished by women posting colors on facebook, soon we all realised they were just being weird and that they were posting their bra colors because it was a secret "girl thing". None of us had a clue of the origin.
Until now, one brave guy discovered where all those stupid stupid girls got the idea from.
It were swedish girls who started it, well not exactly, it weren't some dumb broads trying to be funny. It was an organisation against breast cancer trying to raise awareness, a good cause of some kind. Yet because of the low intelligence of 90% of all women this cause was soon forgotten and all the dumb bitches just annoyed us guys. The rest is history.
THE END

(man, am I glad no girls read this blog, because I'm a sexist asshole!)
(Women, stop posting colours as your statuses and get back in the kitchen)