idkisaac's Blurbs

About Me:

My name is Isaac and i'm da sickest fool youz evan gonna meet.

idkisaac's Posts

Apr 20 2014 6:56 pm

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pizza-is-the-key:

The gays are on sale

(via hi)

Apr 20 2014 6:54 pm

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vercxce:

My internet was down for 5 minutes so i went downstairs and spoke to my family

They seem like nice people

(via hi)

Apr 20 2014 7:14 am

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Apr 20 2014 7:00 am

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pearlcrystalgem:

travellingcompanionstephrogers:

chafing-nipples:

modmad:

nooby-banana:

becauseimdavefuckinstrider:

jim fucking carrey

jim fucking carrey

image

I love Jim Carrey. I once met him in a 7/11, and I was getting a soda, I turned and saw it was him, and he saw I was going for a Doctor Pepper, so he said “Oh did you want one of these”, to which I stuttered out a yes and he grabbed all of them and said “too bad” and brought them up to the front. Then he bought his stuff and left the sodas there, and left. Almost immediately after, he ran back in and began putting the sodas back and paid for mine.

This is what happens when Candians are let lose and try to prank people

I

(via ivycallum)

Apr 20 2014 6:31 am

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tysonmurphy:

I wanted to do a quick and fun doodle for my dad for christmas.  It’s his last year of eligibility to be voted into the Hall of Fame, and my 7 siblings have started quite the offensive to speak up and make a case for him, after 15 years of silence. some recent articles/interviews/petitions:   here, here, here, etc.

   I’m a bit of a black sheep in the family, as my professional sports knowledge is nil, and my athletic prowess is nonexistent.  Most people are surprised to hear that my artistic side was actually fostered and encouraged by my Dad, but that’s just the way he’s always been with me.

  I’m not smart enough to argue his career, his numbers, or to compare him to other players (I only know a few others), and I can only remember bits and pieces of his career.  But I remember perfectly sitting in our art room in Georgia, tracing the outlines of our feet onto planks of wood, whittling sticks and bars of soap on the back porch, admiring my dad’s doodles that he would do of all our names, and carving our initials into trees as we tried to hunt bats with our BB guns.

   I don’t know if he’ll get in the Hall, but… it really doesn’t matter to me.


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