i thrive in mediocrity.

raymadillo:

Kay, time to summon up the full bottle of raid.

Don’t kill ittttt

testtheworld:

I secretly ship this.

Who knows. The king could have loved his jester, Ronald McDonald the clown.

They are always or nearly always on the same street corners, are they not.

Always so close yet so far apart…

Forbidden love. Tantalizing and oh so tender as if their finger tips embraced, but they could not. Their touch as soft as the traffic winds that blow between them shining light of the reality that is a bright as the street lights in the dark. The dark that disguising their love as animosity. These star crossed lovers are not full of competition and hate, but ravenous hunger with the lust they have for each other.

How they dare not speak, but through their marquees they convey subtle messages back and forth, cryptic to the unknowing eye. They use their facade of competition to support each other, to lend a hand.

Then one day the jester grows old. The kingdom tires of his tricks. They blame him for their misery and disease. McDonald’s is backed into a corner by a mob and the King can do nothing to save him without revealing their secret forbidden love. His loyal jester knows this. He takes their secret to the grave as the mob demolishes him with fire and wrecking balls. Thieves steal from McDonald as he lays there and soon all that is left of him is rubble. People pass by his corpse as though it were a smear mark on the pavement, nothing to be noticed, nothing to care about.

But the King notices.

He stares out of his windows everyday with love and longing and remorse, wishing he could have professed his love fearlessly for his lover, the jester, Ronald McDonald. He displays his condolences as if for an old friend in his marquee, but no one knows his pain.

(Source: thebestlolz)

naomicampbellofficial:

panda dog

(Source: nickyhiltonssister)