HUGE GIVEAWAY! HUGE GIVEAWAY! HUGE GIVEAWAY! HUGE GIVAWAY!
do not delete the text, only the pictures show up on your blog
Hello everyone, We (Jared & Gabby) are hosting our 6th annual giveaway. We love doing giveaways for you guys! They’re always so successful, and we love helping out in anyway we can! so we’re at it again! These items are mostly brand new except a few which are in great condition, and have only been slightly used, being donated to us, or donated to the giveaway by us. This giveaway will end right before the holiday season to help out with anyone’s christmas, or just in general make someones entire year by giving them all of this stuff for free. We do not accept bribes, or pick people. The random generator we have coded will choose the winner. We will try to answer all questions that this post does not. p.s. our previous urls were snuggle and drinken.
• THE GIVEAWAY DRAWING WILL BE COMPLETELY RANDOM (THROUGH A RANDOM GENERATOR)
ONE WINNER, WINS ALL OF THE ITEMS. (ONLY 1 Winner)
2. You may reblog as much as you’d like! We are keeping track of how many times you have reblogged the giveaway.
• no likes please
• We are shipping world wide and for free to the winner
• GIVEAWAY ENDS ON DECEMBER 13TH, 2013 (to allow us enough time to ship the items to the winner before the holidays)
1. Droid razor- $200
2. Otter box- $60
3. 2 toms- $110
4. Iphone 4s (32g)- $400
5. Otter box- $70
6. Wii- $400
7. 9 wii games (just dance 1,2,3,4, sims, cod, active, supermario, donkey kong)-$190
8. 2 ipod nanos (yellow & orang) 16g)- $200
9. Sol republic headphones-$130
10. Ipad 2 (64g)- $500
11. Case ipad 2- $20
12. Laptop samsung- $450
13. Straightener- $130
14. Ihome for ipad & iphone- $190
15. Ihome for nanos- $80
16. YSL (yves-saint laurent) perfume- $60
17. Nicholas Sparks book- $20
18. 2 otter box case iphone- $100
19. iphone 5- $650
20. Ipad 1 (32g)- $300
21. HP laptop- $500
10 MORE DAYS LEFT!
A new study has recently found that misogyny is actually not a real thing. This study, conducted over the last few years, featured interviews and surveys of a wide range of men throughout the world.
The study claimed that, of the many men interviewed, not one had reported experiencing misogyny. One anonymous interviewee said, “I’ve never had any problems with misogyny in my life. If it’s real, I’ve certainly never seen it.”
Some have taken issue with the study, saying it failed to take into account the perspectives of any actual women. Stephen Phillips, who headed the study, defended the controversial decision. “We wanted to make sure the study was as objective as possible,” he said. “That means we needed to gather data only from people who were unbiased, and had no personal stake in the issue. If we interviewed women, they would start bringing their emotions into it, and their subjective experience. This is science we’re doing, not anecdotal hearsay.”
Kyle Lewis, who conducted a number of interviews along with Phillips, also commented, “[Phillips] is absolutely right about the issue with subjectivity. If you’re personally experiencing something, or think you are, it’s impossible to give an impartial, objective analysis of it. We needed people who could look at the issue from the outside. People who weren’t actually affected by the issue at all, so they could tell us if the issue was even real in the first place.”
"And it turns out it’s not," Phillips concluded. "After all of the men we’ve talked to over the years, we have finally been able to determine that misogyny doesn’t even exist."
'Round the bend of Diagon there is a place called Harrowyck Alley, which opens out onto a rare patch of green, a small and embattled forest that has somehow survived in London after all these years. Harrowyck is where now stands the statue of Albus Dumbledore, and where they say Potter and his friends have begun flat-hunting. Harrowyck is suited to tired heroes. It is not like cozy Habbitew Alley, where the Hufflepuff gentry keep their townhouses. It is not like strange, oft-disappearing Unarckic Alley, which swallows up the Ravenclaws and spits them back out, years later, cleverer and stranger than before. It is a mass of proud and lonely-seeming buildings of uncertain origin, which permit one to live side by side with one's fellows, hearing from the open windows streams of music, of chatter, of passionate fighting, while still, somehow, keeping hidden the source of all this life and noise. This is the nature of a truly effective city dwelling: by some magic, one is ever surrounded by people, and yet one never has to see them. The buildings are criss-crossed with private elevators, winding back stairs, and hidden entries, and so perfect, perfect privacy is achieved.
Harrowyck is also very near to the MLE’s portal to the Ministry, and very far from the offices of the Prophet. It is highly desirable real estate for Aurors, criminal masterminds, and persons on Ministry probation. Many a moneyed pureblood keeps a flat there; Harrowyck is the ideal place to hole up and await trial, or to conceal a secret. The Aurors would not disrupt their hallowed home privacy simply to break a case. To maintain their cityfied isolation, to keep up the solitary magic of Harrowyck Alley, they permit a kind of armistice, though if one should pass them in the halls of a building one should be very careful to hide any contraband, as Aurors, being Aurors, might note it and file it away to be pursued in another time and place.
Now, in 27 Harrowyck 19J there lived Auror Tonks and Auror Shacklebolt, splitting between them the costs of the rent. In 27 19Y there lived Auror Dawlish, their most sworn workplace enemy. This presented a dilemma, a test of the Alley’s endless calm, for 19J and 19Y faced each other across the courtyard, and Mr. Dawlish could see, behind the hastily-thrown up curtains of 19J, the shadows of his rivals accomplishing very mundane un-Auror-like tasks: preparing breakfast, answering Owls, laughing with friends, dissecting Prophet articles, and the like.
And indeed they could see him as he sat at the kitchen table and tried to solve a case. He became very paranoid that they might steal his breakthroughs, but this never happened. The armistice held. They kept to their cases and he to his. Mind, Auror Tonks was a kind person by nature, but her kindness was so tested by Auror Dawlish that if she saw him in the halls she would only say a very stiff hello, for at work he was a true burden to the Department. He was forever siding with Mr. Fudge, insisting that she and Shacklebolt receive black marks for their maverick methods; and he always eyed them suspiciously over his viscous and disgusting mug of coffee, as though they harbored pro-Dumbledore, anti-Ministry sentiments (which, indeed, they did).
Shacklebolt, for his part, never said anything at all. He was always strictly professional with Dawlish at work; they had a kind of politeness stalemate going, which infuriated Dawlish to no end. Shacklebolt really was a good Auror, he felt, not a bleeding heart like Tonks. And there was in Dawlish a secret voyeur, solitary and sad and blessed by the magic of Harrowyck Alley, which was comforted only by the sight of Shacklebolt buttering toast across the way, or humming along to the Wireless, and, as much as they fought over Mr. Fudge’s methods, when they caught each other in the elevator Shacklebolt always nodded very handsomely, and it was like there was no conflict between them at all. The armistice held. Even as Shacklebolt was demoted time and time again for his suspect alliances; and Dawlish leapt ahead, was promoted ever-upwards, was taken into the confidences of slick Mr. Yaxley, and very wisely never put a toe out of line with Fudge lest it should cost him his workplace advances — the armistice held.
Perfect calm, no cruel words, no suspicious glances, always passing each other, silently and calmly, as though they belonged to completely different worlds. Though in truth they saw each other every day, and lived perhaps twenty feet apart. For years.
Until the night the Ministry should fall. Dawlish stumbled home in a daze, saw the light go on in thw window of 19J, heard a pop of Apparition, and saw a sworn enemy of the new regime, the half-giant manservant of Albus Dumbledore, conspiring with Shacklebolt in the kitchen across the way. And so here was incontrovertible proof. Shacklebolt was no Auror, no friend to the government. He was a rebel, an agitator, an Undesirable. And yet, as John Dawlish gazed across at this criminal, the criminal caught sight of him.
Now, it would have been very easy for Shacklebolt to confund him. Dawlish was not good Auror, and quite susceptible in that regard. But Shacklebolt did not confund him. Would not, perhaps. He respected the armistice. He put a finger to his lips. Shhh. Don’t tell. And Dawlish never did. Oh, to be sure, Dawlish was a coward and a bit of a beast when outside Harrowyck Alley. He was ambitious to the core; he longed to get ahead in any regime. He bullied children, he sought to torment even old Augusta Longbottom. A touch of Imperius, courtesy of Mr. Yaxley, was at play; but that really excused nothing.
And yet he had a strange kind of bond with his neighbor, a city bond, born out of brief sightings and quiet moments, that would not let him tear down the Armistice, declare, “Here are the rebels! Let us raid their den!” And every night he would glance out of the window to see if Shacklebolt and Tonks were home (they never were), not because he wished to betray them, but simply because he wished to see them. He was connected to them. This is how lonely city magic works.
After the war, Shacklebolt knocked on the door of 19Y for the first time in his life. He said, “They’re going to arrest you, John.”
John Dawlish said, “I know.”
He asked after Auror Tonks.
"Dead," said Shacklebolt, and managed to convey in that one word the opinion that she had been worth four hundred of John Dawlish.
But he also left his Owl address, for some reason. A very deliberate action, for naturally Dawlish already knew it (27 Harrowyck 19J) and meant to convey some kind of permission. For what? They did not know each other; they were only neighbors.
Dawlish wrote him, while in prison. Shacklebolt wrote back. Nothing important. Only mundane things, the Owl post equivalent of catching sight of someone across the way through a window, someone captivating, with a bright smile, who butters their toast and laughs with a friend, and has a secret world you long to reach, but never can, really.
After Dawlish’s imprisonment, after Shacklebolt had served two successful terms, they moved to Habbitew Alley. Shacklebolt’s father had left him a townhouse; Shacklebolt had always known he would end up there, somewhere warm and cozy. Dawlish did not go back to work; his husband would not re-hire him. Instead he puttered around the house, somewhat surprised at his good fortune.
Auror Tonks’s son took 19J. He shared the costs of the rent with one of the Potter boys. Across the way lived a cousin he had never met, a Mr. Malfoy. They passed each other in the halls sometimes. They were very polite. They could each see the light in the window opposite. They marveled at it. It was mundane and joyous, very human.
Reminder that while the concept of virginity is technically a social construct, your sexual debut is still allowed to be special to you, and you are still allowed to wait and want to make it meaningful, and your self-perception is still allowed to change after you have sex. Just as long as you’re doing these things for yourself, and not because someone told you that you should.
You do you.
zooey deschanel gets stuck in lucy liu’s dress
This is the least surprising photo I’ve ever seen.
Is it wrong that I love how Lucy Liu is like ~this is not my problem~ ~I am a cyborg princess and this is beneath me~
a fairytale were a young girl is kidnapped and forced to marry a demon king and instead of being like no! never! shes like fine as long as i get to help you destroy and hes like lol cool but soon shes doing a bit too much and her husband king is like okay enough power and shes like bye see you in the dungeon and hes like what and hes dragged away cause now everyone is more loyal to her and she reigns over the underworld and the surface world with a cold iron fist
This is important. Stop big cat hunting. This literally is making me cry.
The way the lion tries to shut out the light…
:Why would you shoot it?
Also who the fuck would shoot these giant kitties? I mean, yes, they could kill you with one paw if they felt like it, but they’re so fucking cute.