RedBalloon Comics, Drawings, and Sketches

cyanidedrop:

One day I will own a dress like this.

One day I’ll be beautiful.

I have to disagree-

You’re already beautiful.

<3

cyanidedrop:

thefirstmccloud:

cyanidedrop:

This is me and Cameron on a daily basis in the house of Rivendell.

…I’m that big dumb jock.

WELP LOOKS LIKE WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS ANYMORE.

WELP. GUESS YOU BETTER GTFO AND STOP STALKING MY BLOG DAN >8U

YUP that’s us

(Source: celestialcow)

2xknifekind:

sherlocked-inside-the-tardis:

mrpondismypatronus:

deduce-me-e:

gomenne:

girlthrualookingglass:

Julio Diaz has a daily routine. Every night, the 31-year-old social worker ends his hour-long subway commute to the Bronx one stop early, just so he can eat at his favorite diner.

But one night last month, as Diaz stepped off the No. 6 train and onto a nearly empty platform, his evening took an unexpected turn.

He was walking toward the stairs when a teenage boy approached and pulled out a knife.

“He wants my money, so I just gave him my wallet and told him, ‘Here you go,’” Diaz says.

As the teen began to walk away, Diaz told him, “Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you’re going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm.”

The would-be robber looked at his would-be victim, “like what’s going on here?” Diaz says. “He asked me, ‘Why are you doing this?’”

Diaz replied: “If you’re willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money. I mean, all I wanted to do was get dinner and if you really want to join me … hey, you’re more than welcome.

“You know, I just felt maybe he really needs help,” Diaz says.

Diaz says he and the teen went into the diner and sat in a booth.

“The manager comes by, the dishwashers come by, the waiters come by to say hi,” Diaz says. “The kid was like, ‘You know everybody here. Do you own this place?’”

“No, I just eat here a lot,” Diaz says he told the teen. “He says, ‘But you’re even nice to the dishwasher.’”

Diaz replied, “Well, haven’t you been taught you should be nice to everybody?”

“Yea, but I didn’t think people actually behaved that way,” the teen said.

Diaz asked him what he wanted out of life. “He just had almost a sad face,” Diaz says.

The teen couldn’t answer Diaz — or he didn’t want to.

When the bill arrived, Diaz told the teen, “Look, I guess you’re going to have to pay for this bill ‘cause you have my money and I can’t pay for this. So if you give me my wallet back, I’ll gladly treat you.”

The teen “didn’t even think about it” and returned the wallet, Diaz says. “I gave him $20 … I figure maybe it’ll help him. I don’t know.”

Diaz says he asked for something in return — the teen’s knife — “and he gave it to me.”

Afterward, when Diaz told his mother what happened, she said, “You’re the type of kid that if someone asked you for the time, you gave them your watch.”

“I figure, you know, if you treat people right, you can only hope that they treat you right. It’s as simple as it gets in this complicated world.”

FAITH IN HUMANITY RESTORED

ALL THE SLOW CLAPS GO TO YOU

god bless this man.

BRAVO, GOOD MAN.

This is the type of guy I aspire to be.

(via dragonloafs)

rednumbernine:

oxlilliumxo:

rednumbernine:

stars-collected:

gadgetry:

integratedserket:

acylate:

the tedious adventures of a 10-year-old who attempts to capture 649 different,  generally useless creatures

explore a vast galaxy making a multitude of important decisions only to discover that the only thing you can choose is the colour of force that ruins everything

Enter a competition to destroy absurdly weaponized vehicles with your own absurdly weaponized vehicle. Even if you survive, your hopes and dreams will be ironically crushed by a creepy-looking asshole, at least if you are a somewhat decent human being

Jump into a tv and play cards in order to prevent your boring mountain town getting too foggy. Along the way you’ll have to play therapist and deal with your friends insecurities by beating them with a golf club.

Run around for hours in a land with absolutely no people except for you and your girlfriend, who is asleep the whole time. Occasionally you get to climb moving rocks because you made a deal to destroy some statues.

Till the land, plant seeds, and grow crops in a super monotonous way in order to get money to expand your house. Buy a full-sized bed, and you just might be able to get a girlfriend. Maybe. Don’t forget to water your crops!

(another one because I can’t stop thinking about this for some reason)

You are a sexually liberated woman with magical hair who dances a lot and really likes lollipops. You babysit a child and a cockroach. Your creepy dad wants you to cut it out and come home.

Move to a weird-ass town in the middle of nowhere, get forever into debt with never-ending house upgrades, and go broke by furnishing said house. Oh, and do chores for strange animal-human hybrids with speech tics in the hope that you’ll get something valuable.

(Source: effyeahpegasister)

cyanidedrop:

That’s what’s going on up there on my dash, Loki.

Thor just wants to love you.

No objections.

musicdisorder:

mythchief:

So there I was, ready to take a shower. I mean, I was dirty, a little greasy, a shower was not such a horrible idea. People take showers, amiright? Of course!

I get naked.

FULL naked.

REAL naked.

I’m talking the exact opposite reason why you ever went to your grandmother’s house.

No cookies. Blatant nudity.

That’s how folks take showers these days, right? Well, I pull back the curtain…

And there it was.

This…thing…sitting on the little soap/shower/pube shelf. Not a care in the world, like it’s been there for years. “What the fuck is that?” I think to myself.

Now, what follows is the exact pattern of thought that took me from rational human being to Sloth in 3.4 seconds.

“Is that a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit? Holy fuck that’s a Red Lobster cheesy biscuit. OMG why would someone leave that unattended. Those things are so delicious. I’m gonna eat the fuck out of it. Man, I can’t wait to see whoever left it’s face when they come back to find that someone ate their cheesy biscuit’s fuck. Ohhh boy.”

Then my brain sent a message to my arm that said, “Reach for that cheesy biscuit, bitch. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?”

As you must already know, we are all contractually bound to make a dickload of mistakes throughout our lifetime. Some of those mistakes are so big that they forever hinder our world and warrant entire chapters in our children’s history books. However, most mistakes have the dubious providence of merely haunting one’s soul and festering amidst the subconscious for always and eternity.

This was, nearly, one of those.

If my adjacency to failure could be measured, the only possible unit of measurement to appropriate it would be “baby condoms”. And no, I do not mean those horrendous papoose-like titty-cribs that the slovenly carriage their spawn around in in Wal-Mart, I mean condoms that a baby would wear.

My adjacency to failure was roughly 1 and a half Kiddie Trojans.

I’m not sure what stopped me, be it cosmic or supernatural, but it gave my brain just enough time to ask itself some rather important questions regarding this little tub treasure. Questions like:

“WHO, THE FUCK, WOULD LEAVE A CHEESY BISCUIT IN MY SHOWER?!”

And inquiries such as:

“AND WHY WERE YOU GOING TO EAT IT, MORON?!”

Seriously, was I so hungry that I would wantonly disobey all the integral conditioning and survival imprinting my parents bestowed upon me like the ever important, “Um, don’t eat that biscuit retard, you don’t know where it’s been or whose it is and also you found it in the shower.” in order to satisfy something so benign as a munchie?

That, I’m sorry to say, was pretty much my reality.

An early morning introspective psychological evaluation of a sad, hungry, naked man who almost ate a bar of soap.

hahaha this is great

IT’S BACK

(via betachan)