LaylaTheBlackCheetah

ahdgafhafgas i couldn't be more pissed/disapointed right now. I've been working on this drawing of Kurt Cobain on Photoshop for probably 2 or 3 months now (long periods of time between each time I worked on it) but goddmn, I spent so much time on that thing. It was going really, really well and I was almost finished, and I was actually REALLY fucking proud of one of my drawings for once. I was drawing it on the computer with no internet, though. I was just going to burn the picture to a CD and then take the CD and save it on the computer that does have internet and then put it on here. But, since it has no internet, my dad decided to take

asdklashdsalkh I was asked this question- How do you catch a fish when you're in a submarine then you apparate into an airplane where you meet an arabian salsa maker named Panchito who gives you the Heimlich? AND I REPLIED WITH THIS- WELL. You're going to need to get off the plane when it stops in Egypt right in the middle of nowhere. You're going to need to tame a camel, and you have to ride him across the desert until you find the all the ingredients for magic salsa, which are all prepared in a bush of rainbow peppers. Pay Panchito $10 and he will make some magic salsa. Eating the magic salsa should take you to Hawaii, which is where you

ASDKHSAFSAHGFJASJFSAHK WHY PAUL. WHY MUST YOU MAKE ME CRY SADHKSLAFHSAHFK:SA This is basically a letter that Paul McCartney wrote for John Lennon. I need to post this because they met 54 years ago today <3 So, here it is. Dear John, I remember when we first me, at Woolton, at the village fete. It was a beautiful summer day and I walked in there and saw you on stage. And you were singing "Come Go With Me," by the Dell Vikings, but you didn't know the words so you made them up. "Come go with me to the penitentiary." It's not in the lyrics. I remember writing our first songs together. We used to go to my house, my dad's home, and we used