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That awkward moment when you have to use a pan as umbrella.


That awkward moment when you have to use a pan as umbrella.


I decided I can’t not reblog stuff, despite my previous thoughts about reblogging. There’s just too much cool stuff on tumblr.

My thoughts of tumblr.

It’s pretty cool I guess. I don’t know what to post or where to start!

I just spent 30 minutes trying to pick a theme and find a backgroud.

It seems pretty artsy. I like artsy stuff. I might write some poetry to go along with my artsy tumblr. I haven’t written any in a really long time.

I wonder why it’s called “tumblr.” ? What does it have to do with tumbling? And what if it was “Tumbler”? Nevermind, it looks too awkward and that just felt awkward typing it that way.

This is just a shout out to Vanny. Because I know he reads all of my stuff. And I know he’ll be reading this.

I don’t want to share my personal life with the world. So I think I’ll stick to posting about other peoples lives. Just joshing, that’s mean. I’ll post artsy stuff. Like poetry and pretty pictures.

Going back and reading through this post I’ve realized that no one will probably care to read this, and I feel pretty gay about typing this.

Gay as in happy. Because I am happy to have a tumblr. And a computer. And this wonderful life that I got goin’ on.

I talk. In fragments. Because I think. It has. More impact. Syntax ftw.

And I go off on tangents.

And I begin sentences with “And” & “But”. But it doesn’t really matter because they are mostly fragments anyway.

A lot of people have gotten bored reading this already, or didn’t bother because it was too long. Except Vanny most likely. Hi again.

I don’t think I’ll reblog a lot of things, because I feel like it’s copying other people. A blog should be your own thing. Plus everyone addicted to tumblr has probably already seen it.

I like to keep things simple, and I like to keep life beautiful.

I’ll probably get bored of tumblr in a few weeks. Maybe not.

This is so fun. I feel like a blogger. Too bad no one is going to read this. Except Vanny. And maybe Dani.

Oh gosh, I feel like a blogger. I’ve conformed.