Kelly Jacobs Hot Romance

Sep 18

Think about this when you make a negative comment about a girls thick thighs.

blondesquats:

donut-give-a-fuck-about-abs:

Remember that watermelon crushing thigh cartoon recently? Well after just watching an episode of Stan Lee’s Superhuman’s that shit is real.

Now, to give you an example the force required to crush the average watermelon is around 320 pounds as seen below:

image

But with using only the power of her god like thighs this is the result:

image

image

image

And this is why Thick thighs are fucking glorious.

thick thighs crush skulls

Why would anyone say anything bad about thick thighs. It’s muscle, not fat. It’s fucking sexy.

Sep 18
unclefather:

why are you doing this? please stop. if it’s money you want, name your price. just stop doing this to him. he doesn’t deserve this.

unclefather:

why are you doing this? please stop. if it’s money you want, name your price. just stop doing this to him. he doesn’t deserve this.

Sep 18

noibatitty:

freeiwatobiswimm:

Rin speaking English!!! Haruka trying to understand! Omg XD now we all knows someday, Rin can speak to us! O//.///o

THIS IS SO FUCKINGG SURREAL LISTENING TO AUSTRALIAN ACCENTS IN ANIME WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT IM HAVIG AN OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE HERE THIS TOOK ME SO OFF GUARD. I DIDNT EXPECT THEM TO GET ACTUAL AUSTRALIANS TO VOICE ACT THOSE PEOPLE I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT I EXPECTED. THIS IS SO WEIRD.

Sep 18

wwonderful:

what the fuck is wrong with u people if a person wants to wear a grandpa sweater and a flowercrown while drinking a pumpkin spice latte fucking let them live their life the last thing they probably need is your broke judgmental ass giving them hella negative vibes cause you don’t like their life choices bye

this is the most tumblrized text post i have ever read. it is completely unrealistic to real life, because no one goes up to people doing this in public and yells at them for it, but still.

Sep 18

http://karatoona.tumblr.com/post/97788480435/emmi-kat-bunnybennett-karatoona →

emmi-kat:

bunnybennett:

karatoona:

saranghae-rae said: What tattoo did you get?~ :D

Thank you for asking!

Last year I got this tattoo:

image

today I just went in and got some of the colours touched up.

In case you’re wondering, yes, it’s a giraffe.

I dont know how…

At first I saw this on bunny’s thing. For a moment I thought she had a tattoo, and all I read was; “It’s a giraffe. You see, there’s this band…” and I laughed.

Sep 17
http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Drakula-~-one-1435-ebook/dp/B005RJ8ND0/ref=sr_1_8?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411001335&sr=1-8&keywords=kelly+jacobs
 The Halloween book is out now! 
Happy Halloween! Free sample chapter!

When I was little I wasn’t allowed to have Halloween because my mother was, and is, a narcisistic sociopath. A religious homophobe, she was mentally ill and hated all people on earth, even hereself. But the jokes on her - cause I am now an author who is happy and gay as shit! Anyway, I’ve written a Drakula type book based on the historical figure of Vladislav Drakula III. It’s not like any other vampire book, in that Drakula is actually fleshed out and you see what he sees, in his own words. A great deal of historical research has gone into this. If it does well, there will be a sequel as volume II.

                                        Chapter 1 preview


His young eyes, new to the sorrows of the world, were puzzled as he look at the corpse that lay of the table. Part of him wanted to run in fear, most of him wanted to simply cry for the loss of a life he never knew.
Done in the traditional manner, the hands of the corpse were folded across his chest, holy candles lit to ward off evil spirits that might enter the body and corrupt it. Incense and flowers carried away most of the smell of rot and the faint hint of purge that bubbled up from the gut.
In a low hum, the priest prayed to the absent Nazarene carpenter as the mourners wailed out their grief and sorrow, each trying to outdo the last.

Afraid, young Vlad edged closer to the corpse of his estranged uncle and looked at a dead man for the first time in his life. It would not be the last. His red turned red and tear trickled down his chubby cheeks, crying no so much for the lost an uncle he never knew, but out of sympathy that others were crying.
Dressed in a white linen rode, a rosary done in his hands and with silver ducats on his eyes to hold the lids closed, his skin was sagging and the under layer was gradually slipping. A long and wide patch of purple and reddish black from gravity collected blood could already be seen just under the neck.

The hard fingers were drying quickly and the nail was seemingly long as the flesh peeled close to and back from the tip of the bone.
The wake was oddly named, as it was clear to all that unlike the odd case of a waking sick person or someone not yet dead on their death bed, this former human would never rise again.
As a half-hearted gesture of fatherly guidance, but mostly derived from a rush to get moving, Vlad’s father’s hand pressed his shoulder and guided him away from the spectacle. He had only come to see that Alexandru was indeed dead, clearing his own path to wealth and power.

In the simple palace, large and cold, strong and unfeeling, the candles were the only light. Damp air and mildew hung with the bevy of thick scents already in the air.
They were only a step over the peasants they ruled in terms of luxury, eating the same food as them, bearing with the same torments of the dark ages, but the people in that small room help the sway of life and death of thousands at their whim.


http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Drakula-~-one-1435-ebook/dp/B005RJ8ND0/ref=sr_1_8?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411001335&sr=1-8&keywords=kelly+jacobs

http://www.amazon.com/Diary-Drakula-~-one-1435-ebook/dp/B005RJ8ND0/ref=sr_1_8?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1411001335&sr=1-8&keywords=kelly+jacobs

The Halloween book is out now!

Happy Halloween! Free sample chapter!

When I was little I wasn’t allowed to have Halloween because my mother was, and is, a narcisistic sociopath. A religious homophobe, she was mentally ill and hated all people on earth, even hereself. But the jokes on her - cause I am now an author who is happy and gay as shit! Anyway, I’ve written a Drakula type book based on the historical figure of Vladislav Drakula III. It’s not like any other vampire book, in that Drakula is actually fleshed out and you see what he sees, in his own words. A great deal of historical research has gone into this. If it does well, there will be a sequel as volume II.
                                        Chapter 1 preview
His young eyes, new to the sorrows of the world, were puzzled as he look at the corpse that lay of the table. Part of him wanted to run in fear, most of him wanted to simply cry for the loss of a life he never knew.
Done in the traditional manner, the hands of the corpse were folded across his chest, holy candles lit to ward off evil spirits that might enter the body and corrupt it. Incense and flowers carried away most of the smell of rot and the faint hint of purge that bubbled up from the gut.
In a low hum, the priest prayed to the absent Nazarene carpenter as the mourners wailed out their grief and sorrow, each trying to outdo the last.
Afraid, young Vlad edged closer to the corpse of his estranged uncle and looked at a dead man for the first time in his life. It would not be the last. His red turned red and tear trickled down his chubby cheeks, crying no so much for the lost an uncle he never knew, but out of sympathy that others were crying.
Dressed in a white linen rode, a rosary done in his hands and with silver ducats on his eyes to hold the lids closed, his skin was sagging and the under layer was gradually slipping. A long and wide patch of purple and reddish black from gravity collected blood could already be seen just under the neck.
The hard fingers were drying quickly and the nail was seemingly long as the flesh peeled close to and back from the tip of the bone.
The wake was oddly named, as it was clear to all that unlike the odd case of a waking sick person or someone not yet dead on their death bed, this former human would never rise again.
As a half-hearted gesture of fatherly guidance, but mostly derived from a rush to get moving, Vlad’s father’s hand pressed his shoulder and guided him away from the spectacle. He had only come to see that Alexandru was indeed dead, clearing his own path to wealth and power.
In the simple palace, large and cold, strong and unfeeling, the candles were the only light. Damp air and mildew hung with the bevy of thick scents already in the air.
They were only a step over the peasants they ruled in terms of luxury, eating the same food as them, bearing with the same torments of the dark ages, but the people in that small room help the sway of life and death of thousands at their whim.
Sep 16

I spilled tea on the cat.

Sep 16

clash-manifesto:

Never forget it was an inside job

Sep 16
punkrockluna:

ilovecharts:

Hours Worked On Minimum Wage In Order To Pay For One University Credit Hour

*Flings this chart at baby boomers*

punkrockluna:

ilovecharts:

Hours Worked On Minimum Wage In Order To Pay For One University Credit Hour

*Flings this chart at baby boomers*

Sep 15

notcrazyiswear:

danglingthpider:

notcrazyiswear:

I’ve put together a simple chart that explains the various ways you should and shouldn’t summon a waiter over to your table, and the service you’re likely to receive accordingly.

Because if one more middle aged, obnoxious asshole goes “hey you!” and snaps their fingers at me, I WILL snap said person’s neck.

I waitressed my way through college and one night this guy yells at me “Oi! you with the tits!” and my co-worker Matthew walked up to him and said “yes?”

Hark! Valkaryen Maiden, might I have a refill of iced tea…

…unsweetened, I pray thee.

Sep 15
i love how the kim possible fandom still does awesome shit.

i love how the kim possible fandom still does awesome shit.

Sep 15
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