Hi. I don't have a lot to say anymore. :p
Reblog if you only follow me because I am really hot
- Ranger ma chambre
- Etudier pour les mathematiques
- Ask Tony what I missed at S.U. meeting
- TDN predictions
For my art final, I decided to paint a memorial piece in honor of Derek Boogaard, Alexei Cherepanov, Tom Cavanagh, Rick Rypien, and all those members of Lokomotiv that lost their lives.
I apologize for not having a better picture, but the paper I used is almost four feet tall—a little bit big to scan at home.
At the very bottom of the picture is a list of the deceased, the year they were born, and the year they passed on.
If I made some gigantic error in spelling that I was too ignorant in my knowledge of Russian and Lokomotiv to catch, please send me a message—I still have all the paint and tools that I need to correct it.
Tom Cavanagh was used as a center piece, hugged by an ambiguous figure that represents anyone and everyone affected by his passing. All of these men have impacted countless lives on and off the ice.
Boys, we all love you and we miss you. Wherever you are, I wish you well.
Kittens rescued by US Marines in Afghanistan
Yes this can absolutely be on my blog on Memorial Day.
Oh my god please and thank you
I kinda just had a mini freak out when I saw this :$
So these are my best friends Hazel Grace and Augustus.
I do not know who made this fan art, but it is fantastic.
When I was in preschool there was this really weird system of time-out where they’d put you in this giant plastic bucket sort of like this one:
And the rule was you couldn’t leave the bucket for ten minutes.
In case you didn’t know, I was what the teachers referred to as a “difficult child” which is code for “walking entity of sass” so I was in the time-out bucket quite a bit.
Once they put me in the bucket for thirty minutes— and I thought that was incredibly unfair so I grabbed the handles and shifted my body repeatedly until the bucket and I were out of the classroom, in the hallway, and through the front door. They found me in the parking lot scooting to freedom in the time-out bucket. The teachers were furious and I said, “Hey, I never left the bucket”
So they called my mum and told her what I did and she just said, “Well, he never left the bucket.”
