Drifting

In which the author has started a blog with no direction for no apparent reason.
bongsniffer:

all these dogs are like “this is the craziest dog ive ever seen. this dog is wild. what the hell”


"Speak’s not a dog at all; he’s the world’s biggest rodent."

bongsniffer:

all these dogs are like “this is the craziest dog ive ever seen. this dog is wild. what the hell”

"Speak’s not a dog at all; he’s the world’s biggest rodent."

(Source: awwww-cute, via bittersweetdb)

You know when you’re riding along, minding your own business, and someone passes you so closely they could shave your legs for you? And then looks surprised when you scream at them? This is builders shouting at you, asking you if you take it up the arse.

You know that feeling of looking over your shoulder and seeing a huge truck coming up behind, and thinking, he might swing wide, but he might not? This is walking along a road, towards a group of lads coming the other way.

You know when you see someone about to pull out from a side road, and you lock eyes with them, and they definitely see you, and they pull out anyway? This is people you know, people you thought were OK, saying and doing things that make you want to weep.

You know when you’re advised to stay off main roads because they’re too dangerous, and you think, ‘Isn’t it up to all the motorists to try not to kill me, not up to me to keep out of their way?’ This is women being advised not to wear short skirts, not to drink too much, not to walk home alone.