CrockPots and Tattoos

This is just a place to keep track of the things that I see. I'm not going crazy, I'm already there. Due to a TBI, I have some issues with my memory, therefore subject matter may vary from time to time. I love good beer and great wine. I'm allergic to vodka and ignorance.
Occasionally I do post personal photos.
Please remember to explore this blog with an open mind. If you are homophobic, I suggest you get out more.

If you are under 18, get out. Go outside, do your homework, play in a band, or ride a bike. Just don’t spend so much time in front of a computer that you end up thinking everyone is beautiful, has great tits, a huge dick and fucks on the first date. Well, I do, but I'm exceptional.

terriannbird:

-terri ann bird

Reblogged from mydarknessfalls

terriannbird:

-terri ann bird

sailorscent:

blackpaint20:

Morning!

This fucking mug

Reblogged from sailorscent

sailorscent:

blackpaint20:

Morning!

This fucking mug

Reblogged from whisperingghosts

(Source: thesevenseascouldntkeepmeaway)

bethanythestrange:

need

Reblogged from bloodyvampire-83

bethanythestrange:

need

(Source: ihreschadenfreude)

Reblogged from untitledbefore

(Source: vital-dust)

Reblogged from mydarknessfalls

(Source: golgothan)

al-grave:

HMB while I jump in the pool

Reblogged from al-grave

al-grave:

HMB while I jump in the pool

Reblogged from bloodyvampire-83

(Source: metalripper)

drwannabe:

Vladimir Markov

Reblogged from drwannabe

drwannabe:

Vladimir Markov

(Source: slickpenguin)

Reblogged from thegeekygreek

Reblogged from gentlemen-always-know

(Source: laidbackliberty)

Reblogged from distinguishedcompany

Reblogged from annieoblog

(Source: whiskeynbeer)

Reblogged from erostocracy

(Source: passius)

"Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play… I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend."

Reblogged from underconstruction2014

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray (via larmoyante)