i got a headache
google says im gonna die
why is google sending you death threats for having a headache
My siblings dared me to get out and dance in the middle of a christmas light show. Sorry to all the families whose holiday memories I ruined
Interesting broadway concept:
An act two of a musical that doesn’t rip your heart out and spit on it
musicals as vine quotes cause why not
Phantom Of The Opera: “Hey, guys. Hit that like button if you think being haunted is. Kinda hot.”
Wicked: “And they were roommates!” “Oh my god they were roommates.”
Dear Evan Hansen: “He’s dead…” “… Oh ‘not the dickhead’ what do you want me to say?”
The Book Of Mormon: “WELCOME TO BIBLE STUDY WE’RE ALL CHILDREN OF JESUS.” “KUMBAYAAAAAAAAAAAA MA LOOOOOOOO-”
Spring Awakening: “Hey, ma, what’s good? How old are you?” “Fifteen.” [UNINTELLIGABLE YELLING NOISES]
Heathers: “SAW YOU HANGIN OUT WITH CAITLIN YESTERDAY-” “R-REBECCA, IT’S NOT WHAT YOU TH-” “I WONT HESITATE BITCH.”
Be More Chill: “Hey bro what do you wanna eat?” “
T̠̤̭̘̬̀h͖͉e̴͉̼ ̬̙͡s͍̦̖̘̥̮͙o̳̕ụ̪ḻ̣͞s͓͖̬ ͚̬o͍̮͉f̜̫̼̲̭ ͖̕t̲̱̮̣͎͍͈h̝͇̮̦̥͜e͙̺̝ ͈̼in̶̗̪̪̪̝n̗̮̭̣̺͈o͙̻̟̜͙̞c͎̻e̹̤̭̟n̘͞t” “A bagel.” “
N̟̦̬̭͖͍̗O͓̼͟!̣͢
“
American Idiot: “Don’t let anybody else ruin your life. Because it’s your life. You should ruin it.”
Les Misérables: “Hey ~ How ya doin? Well, I’m doin just fine. I lied. I’m dying inside.”
Rent: The “Completely Giving Up” vine that has all the characters named Me
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: “My god, they’ve been in there forever.” “Eh, they probably just-” “WHOA WHAT THE FUCK WE’RE THE SAME PERSON” “HOLY SHIT” “HOW DID THIS HAPPEN” “STOP YELLING AT ME”
Waitress: “Why did you seat that couple before us?” “It’s a table for two.” “Yeah?” “You have ten people.” “Yeah?” [”We Like To Party” by Vengaboys plays]
Chicago: Could ya stop playin that damn music?” “Don’t talk shit on my music!” [GUNSHOT] ♪ say you’ll remember me ♪
A brief summary of every Broadway musical ever
Act 1: 😀
Act 2: ☹️
wakeupontheprongssideofthebed:
You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.
You decide it’s best to find out what you can about this person. Cautiously, you approach his desk. He’s a handsome man, tall, but with a disarming smile. How could such a friendly guy with such cute, dorky glasses be dangerous?
You extend your hand. “I noticed you’re new here. What’s your name?”
He shakes your hand warmly. His gaze is piercing, as if he’s looking right through you. “The name’s Clark,” he says. “So, how long have you worked for the Daily Planet?”
This one wins.
It’s been a few weeks, and one of Clark’s friends shows up. She’s pretty and all, enough muscle that she must work out. First thought would be that she should be maybe a 6.
Clark’s introducing her around. “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”
You blink, and take a step back in fear. You’ve never seen an 11 before.
The day Bruce Wayne shows up for his long promised interview with Lois Lane, you can’t help it, the mug your holding drops from your fingers and sends a shock of hot coffee and ceramic shards across the floor.
Clark stops a few feet away and squints at you worriedly from behind those ridiculous glasses you’re 99% sure he doesn’t actually need, and asks tentatively, “Everything all right?”
You ignore him in favor of staring at the inky dark numerals hovering over the beaming fool gesticulating some fantastic yacht story for a gaggle of secretaries and minor columnists.
That’s it. Your gift has officially gone haywire. There is no other explanation. Because there is absolutely no way that Brucie Wayne is a 10.
AngelMihe 