1. 20 May 2012 · 10:54 PM · 63,271 notes

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    summerwaterballoons

  2. 20 May 2012 · 03:04 PM · 12,697 notes

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    yumfruitlime

  3. 19 May 2012 · 11:38 PM · 18 notes

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    pennstatepsufootball

  4. 19 May 2012 · 03:40 PM · 6,802 notes

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    nllfpeterpanwendy

  5. 12 May 2012 · 02:40 PM · 10,244 notes

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    feenybossboymeetsworld

  6. 10 May 2012 · 09:48 PM · 4,234 notes
    kirono: Just a little giveaway to celebrate getting over 500 followers! Thank you everyone! Here are the rules, please read!: Reblog once only. Liking the post is optional but it will increase chances! You don’t have to be following me, but it will be appreciated! No more than one reblog or you will be disqualified! Have your ask box open! One winner only This package includes: One Captain America plush I won in a claw machine! One KCACO Bookmark One container of KCACO bandaids ( for patching up those otp feels) One  KCACO mug for drinking warm/hot beverages (while reading about otp) One  KCACO packet of tissues ( to wipe those tears crying all night from your otp) One London notebook One Paris notebook One New York notebook One Canada/American/Union Jack flag pencil case Also 2p Buttons if you want. Or other buttons I’ve made! up to 5! Now since I am really impatient, the winner will be picked June 3, 2012 ( Exact time will vary because of work.) I will use a random generator!  I will of course ship it out free~ You must be okay with giving me your name and address though!Thank you and good luck! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ 

    kirono:

    Just a little giveaway to celebrate getting over 500 followers! Thank you everyone!

    Here are the rules, please read!:

    • Reblog once only.
    • Liking the post is optional but it will increase chances!
    • You don’t have to be following me, but it will be appreciated!
    • No more than one reblog or you will be disqualified!
    • Have your ask box open!
    • One winner only

    This package includes:

    • One Captain America plush I won in a claw machine!
    • One KCACO Bookmark
    • One container of KCACO bandaids ( for patching up those otp feels)
    • One  KCACO mug for drinking warm/hot beverages (while reading about otp)
    • One  KCACO packet of tissues ( to wipe those tears crying all night from your otp)
    • One London notebook
    • One Paris notebook
    • One New York notebook
    • One Canada/American/Union Jack flag pencil case
    • Also 2p Buttons if you want. Or other buttons I’ve made! up to 5!

    Now since I am really impatient, the winner will be picked June 3, 2012 ( Exact time will vary because of work.) I will use a random generator! 

    I will of course ship it out free~ You must be okay with giving me your name and address though!
    Thank you and good luck! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ 

    (via immrsnesbit)

  7. 10 May 2012 · 07:14 PM · 558 notes

    (Source: guywoodhouse, via d-r-d-p)

    anniebernadettepeters

  8. 10 May 2012 · 07:12 PM · 28,670 notes

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    chandlerfriends

  9. 08 May 2012 · 10:32 PM · 123 notes

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    mickeymouseminniemousedisney

  10. 06 May 2012 · 05:24 PM · 520 notes
    maudelynn: A NYC Taxi driver wrote: I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. ‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’ ‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive through downtown?’ ‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly.. ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. ‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’. We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. ‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse. ‘Nothing,’ I said ‘You have to make a living,’ she answered. ‘There are other passengers,’ I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly. ‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’ I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life.. I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. via Homestead Survival

    maudelynn:

    A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

    I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

    After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

    By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

    There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
    box filled with photos and glassware.

    ‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

    She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

    She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

    ‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
    through downtown?’

    ‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

    ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

    I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

    ‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

    For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

    We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

    Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

    As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
    We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

    Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
    They must have been expecting her.

    I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

    ‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

    ‘Nothing,’ I said

    ‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

    ‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

    Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

    ‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

    I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

    I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

    On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

    We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

    But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

    (via randomlancila)

    lifebeauty